Chapter 33: Friday, Sept. 14

I have got to quit fucking on nights when I have to get up early the next morning. I really mean it this time.

It might not have been so bad if I’d just stopped after buggering Marie. The blowjob she gave me after I awoke as she washed my dick was almost too much.

That orgasm definitely put me back to sleep and I don’t think I moved a muscle the rest of the night. The alarm going off at 6 a.m. was just about the last thing I needed, but I forced myself out of bed to begin another day.

I had less than an hour before my meeting with Coach Tucker and I had to shower and have breakfast before that. At least I didn’t have to run gassers this morning. I don’t think my legs would have held up for even five of them.

I staggered to the bathroom and began cleaning up as Marie donned one of my T-shirts and headed to the kitchen. I was just standing under the spray when she poked her head in to tell me breakfast was ready.

“You’d better get moving,” she said. “It’s almost 6:30.”

I couldn’t even manage a grunt in response, but did start soaping myself up. I think I scrubbed enough to remove the stink of sex and rinsed off before the hot water ran out.

After drying off, I returned to the front room and dressed as Marie put our plates on the table. I was just glad I had thought to bring my blue team shirt to wear for the pep rally. I’d need to get it laundered tonight so I could wear it again tomorrow for the trip to the game.

Marie had fixed scrambled eggs and bacon. She also placed a glass of pineapple juice, which I dutifully downed, in front of me.

“That really does make your come taste better,” she said, letting me know she was aware of the primary benefit of my “male health” regimen. “Mrs. Jenson will probably want to make sure you’ve been keeping up with it as soon as she gets home. They should be back Sunday night.”

I groaned at the thought, getting a grin from the little waif.

“It’s not like we’re all going to be lining up to suck you off,” she snickered. “Mrs. Metzger and I both want you putting your stuff where it will do what it’s intended to do. I can’t speak for the other girls, but I doubt their parents want them getting pregnant just yet.”

I did not need the image of Kacie, Morgan, Bethany and Staci all having swollen bellies running through my head.

“What are your plans for today?” she asked as she went to fill her coffee mug.

“I’ll have to stay after school for about an hour,” I said around the first forkful. “I’m taking Morgan out to eat, but it’ll be an early night. I’ve got to get her home and get back here before curfew.”

“Is she coming over?” Marie asked.

“I haven’t been told, but she may,” I said. “I still haven’t been told what she wants to do tomorrow night.”

I shoveled in another couple of bites as Marie chewed on that.

“How are you feeling?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“Like that Neanderthal who’s been shoving a tree trunk up my twat all week came back and shoved it up my ass,” she smiled. “I’m a little sore, but it’s a good sore. I know my Daddy will take care of me. I just wish you could live here all the time.”

“Not until I’m out of high school,” I snorted. “Then I’ll be looking at college. Arlene’s going to need a lot of help when the baby’s born. If you and/or Jan also get pregnant, y’all would need to hire another housekeeper or nanny just to take care of things.”

“We’ll have to get everyone together and start planning, then,” Marie said. “You’d better get to school. It’s already a quarter ‘til. I don’t think you want to be late.”

I grabbed a quick smooch, gathered everything I needed and headed for the door.

“Have a good day, Daddy,” Marie said, getting in one more kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby,” I said. “Be good. I should be back a little after 5.”

I pulled into the senior parking lot a few minutes before 7 and went to drop my backpack off at my locker in the fieldhouse. The sun hadn’t crested the horizon yet, but there was plenty of daylight. I may not have been 10 minutes early, but I knocked on Coach Tucker’s office door before he could consider me late.

Coach bade me to enter and pointed me to a chair. He didn’t look like he’d gotten much sleep, either.

“I’d like to thank you for the way you handled things yesterday with Stephanie,” he said, surprising me and giving me a sense of relief that I wouldn’t be facing more punishment. “I think she realizes how differently things could have gone for her. She may have just been thinking about getting your attention, but she obviously didn’t think about what the consequences of her actions could have been.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. I figured I was better off keeping my mouth shut and not provide any information unless specifically asked.

“I didn’t really believe all the trouble you’ve been getting into wasn’t your fault,” Coach said. “And I’m still not convinced you couldn’t have avoided some of it if you’d been paying attention, but recent events are starting to change my mind. The incident out at Cedar Springs, the fight between those girls in the cafeteria, now my daughter chasing after you...

“George Patterson said things have a way of happening around you, but they seem to have a way of working out in the end. Those two touchdowns last week showed that.”

I just sat there, waiting for him to get to the point. I hoped he’d hurry. I needed to get things for my morning classes from my locker in the North Wing and still make it back to Mr. Cochran’s room.

“You’ll need to be careful around Stephanie,” he said. “She felt somewhat betrayed that you called me.”

“She’s still going to be out here?” I asked.

“Her mother convinced me that I’d be able to keep a closer watch on her if she was,” he replied. “And Doc says she really is catching on to what being a trainer is all about. He thinks she could pursue it as a profession if she sticks with it. I would like her to have something she’s good at. Once she graduates and goes off to college, I doubt I’ll be around to look out for her.”

“Sir?”

“Her mother and I divorced in part because she got tired of the time demanded of me as a college assistant,” he said. “Being gone on a recruiting trip when Stephanie took her first steps was just one thing held against me. I took this job so I could at least be near my daughter. She and her mother don’t live in this district, but she can attend school here as the child of a district employee.”

Huh. I guess I’d never really contemplated what the head coach’s private life might be like.

“You’d better get a move on,” he said. “It’s after 7:30 and I need to check on the freshman practice. I missed seeing the subvarsity games last night because of this. At least we aren’t playing tonight.”

“Could you tell me how Stephanie knew where I was?” I asked.

“The find-my-phone app on her tablet,” he snorted. “Apparently, she got the idea from one of the other girls on the training staff and connected with your phone the other night during study hall. Don’t worry about her trying that again. I personally hit the command to delete the connection while we were still at the apartment last night.”

At least he was tech savvy enough to do that. I’d have to be more careful about who I let use my phone as a hotspot in the future. I didn’t need any other girls trying that trick.

Having been dismissed without receiving any punishment, I gathered my bag and headed for the main building. Staci and the other cheerleaders were distributing goodies to all the players’ lockers. Each group of four carried a big box and a master key to the doors, explaining how they were able to open them. Staci assured me they were only allowed to have the keys while carrying out their duties. I reminded myself not to get the cheerleaders mad at me. No telling what kind of surprise they could rig up in my locker.

“I’ve already done your locker. I’ll see you at the pep rally,” Staci said, breaking away from her assignment long enough to steal a kiss. I guess it was still early enough that teachers on hall duty weren’t feeling particularly vigilant.

I swapped my Chemistry book for Economics and headed off to class. I decided to keep Algebra II with me just in case there were any free moments to get in a little more studying, but the odds were against that since we were on a pep rally schedule.

Somewhat surprisingly, no one asked about my dealings with the Tuckers. I took that to mean Coach had ordered Stephanie to keep her mouth shut about the matter. Lord knows I wasn’t going to bring it up.

Morning classes were spent gearing up for next week. We had a pop quiz and homework in Economics with reading assignments and essays in both Western Civ and English IV. It’s like the teachers expected us to stay home and study since there was no football game tonight. Not gonna happen. I had a date.

Marie was just going to have to accept the fact that much of my Sunday would be spent on schoolwork. At least I could get started on the Economics and the reading during detention. If Dunwoody left anything of me for delaying his weekend.

Athletics was rushed, to say the least. We didn’t get taped, just dressed in shorts, tops and helmets to go through our walkthrough. That consisted of little more than calisthenics and running through the scripted plays for the game, but both ones and twos did it. I rotated in for a couple of plays with the backups, but barely broke a sweat.

I think that was Coach’s plan for all of us. We wouldn’t have time for all 85 of us — the kid who’d been moved to the JV earlier in the week hadn’t been replaced on the roster — to shower and dress before the pep rally. A quick rinse was all anyone needed or was even allowed.

Everything went to schedule, accompanied by much shouting from the coaches to pick it up — we were burnin’ daylight — and we were lined up to enter the gym when the pep band struck up the fight song.

The cheerleaders performed their routine to Pat Benatar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot,” which seemed fitting since we were facing the defending champs. I was again mesmerized by the way Staci twitched her ass. I was beginning to think it might be her best feature. Unless it was her pert tits. Or maybe her pretty face.

The drill team performed with lots of high kicks. What looked like a plucked chicken was pantsed by the big blue fuzzball, exposing a pair of boxers that had Col. Harland Sanders’ face covered by a red circle with a slash through it.

Soon enough, we were singing the alma mater and heading back to the team room for lunch. Since Coach wasn’t worried about upset tummies tonight, we were served the same thing we would have had in the cafeteria, some kind of enchilada casserole which could have used more spice.

During all this, I was the recipient of some baleful glares from all the girls on the training staff, who were grouped at a table at the far end of the room. I didn’t try to avoid them, but I wasn’t going out of my way to go near them.

Morgan noticed the looks as our regular group congregated at a table closer to the buffet line.

“What’s up with them?” she asked.

“No idea,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “I haven’t been near any of them all day.”

She didn’t seem especially convinced, but soon joined the other guys in conversation about the game. She again surprised me with her insight.

“I think the key is not giving up the big play,” she said. “The Eagles like to go for a kill shot right away. If you can make them put together long drives, they get frustrated and start making stupid mistakes, jumping offsides and things like that.”

“Offsides is a defensive penalty,” Hank Preston said. “You mean false starts.”

“But you get the idea,” Morgan retorted. “Same thing when we’re on offense — the more plays you can run, the better your chances of scoring. If they can’t get a quick stop or a turnover, it’s like they lose interest.”

“So, what are we supposed to take away?” Marshawn asked. “Run or pass?”

“Pass first,” Morgan said. “If they go with three or four receivers, the ball’s going in the air unless the pass rush can get to the quarterback. He’s not as mobile as Reggie, but he can run if he has to. If they go two receivers, they’re giving it to that big back. They’ve been very predictable in their tendencies.”

“Their deal is they’re so athletic, they can beat you even when you know what’s coming,” Luke Riley said. “We’ll have to disguise our looks to try to influence their play selection. They call everything at the line and shift into the appropriate formation.”

Of course, all of this would have been covered by the coaches during the week. Or at least it should have been. I don’t know why hearing it from Morgan would make any difference, unless it just reinforced what should have already been learned.

“As fascinating as all this is, I’d better get moving,” I said. “I’ve got a test to get ready for.”

I finished my plate, gave Morgan a hug and told her I’d see her at 6. Right now, I had to give algebra another look.

Cody seemed to be of the same mind. He followed me into the locker room and we spent a few minutes reviewing the material, bouncing questions off each other.

When the bell rang, we headed for Mr. Henderson’s room. As we walked toward the main building, he hit me with his real reason for hanging around me.

“What did you do to get all the girls pissed off?” he asked.

“No clue,” I said. “I didn’t even know they were upset with me. I haven’t talked to any of them today.”

“Well, you’re definitely on their bad list,” he said. “You’d better let me tape you up tomorrow. Just make sure you shave your legs.”

I was able to push thoughts of the girls on the training staff being mad at me aside and concentrate on the test in Algebra II. As Mr. Henderson had warned us, this was a little more involved than our earlier ones, but I was still able to get through it all and felt good about my answers. The bonus question was tough. We were the underdogs this week, as much as three touchdowns according to some sources, but I had faith and picked us to pull off the upset, 24-21.

In Chemistry, we graded and turned in our homework, then began going over the material that would be on the six-weeks test next week. Mr. Debussy wanted to get one more lab session in on Monday, have a final review on Tuesday and test on Wednesday. That should work out well for me since the morning classes would have two tests on Thursday — Economics and English IV — with Western Civ on Friday along with Algebra II.

Creative Writing was spent in much the same vein. Mrs. Cohen assigned us an essay due Monday — topic of our choice, meaning I could double dip with one of the morning classes — and told us what to expect for next week. It wouldn’t be a test like in the other classes. Instead, we’d be writing something each day, making for five short essays that had to be completed in class. I’d have to make sure the laptop was charged up each day. I thought I might ought to get one of those battery packs like Jed had just to cover my butt.

When the bell rang, I hurried to my locker to get everything I’d need for weekend assignments. I also decided to take the little basket of goodies from the cheerleaders. It couldn’t hurt to have a peace offering. My backpack was quite heavy as I trudged to the cafeteria for my date with Mr. Dunwoody.

I was in for a surprise when I got to the cafeteria. Not only was I not the only inmate today, but a few of the girl student trainers were in attendance. I was beginning to get an idea of why I was the target of their displeasure.

Mr. Dunwoody was his usual jovial self.

“I was ready to wring your neck for talking Mrs. Montero into giving you Friday detention,” he snarled as I signed in. “You should have been stuck with me in ISS instead. You lucked out when the little princesses over there pulled some stunt involving Coach Tucker’s daughter. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would ya?”