Chapter 58: Tuesday, Oct. 9

I awoke to someone shaking my shoulder. It took more than a few shakes before things started functioning.

“You need to get up, Daddy,” seeped into my brain. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

That made me realize I could smell bacon frying. It might not be my favorite wakeup call, but it was up there. And effective.

“Be there in a sec,” I mumbled, trying to make sure my feet were on the floor before I attempted to stand.

I staggered in the general direction of the bathroom, bumping into the wall at least three steps before I should have. That made me realize I was in the apartment at Arlene’s instead of my bedroom at home.

Oh, yeah. I remember now. I’m house sitting for the redheaded goddess this week. And next.

I found the bathroom door, took care of business and washed my face, which edged me a little closer to fully awake.

I could hear Marie doing her thing in the kitchen as I went to get dressed. For some reason, I went with long pants after wearing shorts yesterday. A blue polo and loafers completed my ensemble. I was feeling almost human.

“Good morning, baby,” I called out as I rounded the corner to the little kitchen. “How are y ... HOLY SHII! What the hell did you do?!?!?!”

Marie’s head looked like it’d been attacked by a rainbow. Hanks of hair had been dyed all the way around. Pink, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple and a couple I wasn’t sure of the names. In between were little strips of her natural brunette.

“You said I could try something edgy,” she said. “Will this work?”

“It’ll certainly explain why you’re in ISS,” I snorted. “When did you do that?”

“Last night before I came to bed,” the little waif giggled. “You were so out of it I don’t think you even noticed me laying down next to you.”

“I have a vague recollection,” I said. “Did you decide on an outfit?”

At the moment, Marie was wearing one of her house dresses and her choker.

“Yes, but I didn’t want to risk getting grease stains on it,” she beamed. “I wanted to look edgy, not like I just escaped from a truck stop kitchen. Sit down. I’ll bring you a plate.”

A few minutes later, I was stuffing my face with enough scrambled eggs and bacon to get me through the morning, if not the whole day. You’d have thought Grandma was cooking one of her country breakfasts, just less meat and no biscuits and gravy.

Marie handed me my glass of pineapple juice and went to get dressed while I finished eating. It was only a little after 7. With nothing better to do, I went over my notes for English IV one more time. I think I soaked up more in five or 10 minutes than I had in however long I’d spent on it last night.

Probably helped that I didn’t get a handjob right in the middle of it.

I packed everything up a little before 7:30 and prepared to head out, making sure I had the sling and my student ID. Marie returned as I was making sure everything was shut down. The way she was dressed made me do a doubletake.

It wasn’t quite a Paige Tuner outfit — the tits, obviously, but the skirt was a lot closer to legal and she wore a black cardigan that seemed vaguely familiar over the white midriff-baring blouse. Another difference was instead of knee socks and saddle shoes, she wore fishnets and “fuck me” pumps.

The little waif was also wearing makeup for what was probably the first time since she’d come to work for Arlene. I think the last time I’d seen her all painted up was during our stay at the townhouse in mid-July. It wasn’t as garish as Paige’s, but it was still more than most girls wore to school.

The choker and pendant brought it all together.

Vi Ochoa would be jealous. She could only dream of dressing like this for school.

“We’d better get moving,” I said, stepping to the door and getting a closer look. “I’ll be lucky to get you to Dunwoody’s room without a teacher sending you to the office.”

I lifted a lapel of her top to make sure she was wearing a bra. Sheer black, doing nothing to obscure her nipple. My submissive bitch seemed to be advertising the fact she was a naughty girl.

It struck me the one thing missing was a student ID. We’d have to correct that if she was going to spend more than one day on campus. I’d have to get with Benny and Wil.

“I’ll just ride with you today, if that’s all right, Daddy,” she said as I locked the apartment door. “I can probably make it through one day.”

Heavy clouds convinced me to leave the top up on the Beemer. I cranked up and immediately tuned the radio to a station that would have a weather update in the next few minutes. It seemed a hurricane was working its way across the Gulf, kicking up storms all the way from Florida to our area. We could expect more rain today.

One benefit was the temperature was supposed to dip into the 60s this afternoon. Practice would be almost bearable if we could actually get on the field. I was tempted to go back and grab an Oxford cloth to wear over the polo. I needed to bring some of my fleeces and windbreakers to the apartment, or go buy some more to keep there.

We pulled into the senior lot before most of the other students. At least I wouldn’t have to explain Marie to Travis.

I got my backpack out of the trunk and helped Marie from her seat. Taking her by the elbow, I steered her toward the southeast entrance as a plan began to form in my mind.

“If a teacher gets us, let me handle it,” I said. “Don’t say a word, just stay with me. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

We got more than one curious look from students as I strode purposefully across the pavement, hopefully looking like I knew what I was doing. I pulled Marie through the entrance and turned toward the ISS room, making it two steps in that direction before a female teacher on hall duty accosted us.

“Hold it right there, you two,” she called out. “I can see at least three dress-code violations already.”

“Is Mr. Dunwoody in his room yet?” I asked as I continued moving that direction, Marie tottering on her heels. “I was told to take these folks to him if I caught another one on campus.”

“What folks?” the teacher asked.

“Paparazzi,” I said. “You may have heard about the one I took to the office last week. I guess they picked one who wouldn’t fall out of her top this time.”

I’ve got to give Marie credit. She was quick on the uptake, trying (but not too hard) to pull free from my grasp and muttering, “Let me go!”

“That was you?” the teacher asked incredulously. “If he’s not in his room, he’ll be in the main office. Do I need to alert the district police?”

“I’d just let Mr. Dunwoody deal with it,” I said. “There’s no reason for you to miss first period because something stupid like this. You’d think these idiots would’ve given up by now.”

The teacher seemed to think that was a fine idea and allowed me to proceed. Marie continued to struggle ineffectually as I led her to her destination, then struggled just as ineffectually to maintain the façade once we arrived. Dunwoody wasn’t there yet, but I was willing to bet he wouldn’t be long.

“I can’t believe you got away with that bullshit!” she hissed, trying to suppress her giggles.

“It’s all about projecting confidence,” I smirked. “As long as they think you know what you’re doing, the rest is easy.”

“What’s so easy, Robinson?” Dunwoody boomed as he entered with a mug of coffee. “I was told you were up to somethin’ again.”

“What I’m up to is bringing you what we talked about yesterday,” I said. “We had to get past a teacher on hall duty first. This is Marie Benson, my pet. Marie, this is Mr. Dunwoody. He’ll take care of you today.”

“Young lady,” Dunwoody grunted in greeting, finally taking in the total package for the first time. “No wonder ya got stopped. I see at least six violations already. She normally wear her hair like that?”

“I made the mistake of telling her she could try something edgy,” I said. “She took that and ran with it. Ya gotta admit, though, she does look like she belongs in ISS. About all that’s missing is a navel piercing.”

“I can go get one this evening,” Marie piped up helpfully.

“We’ll discuss it,” I said. “I noticed you haven’t worn your other piercings since you went to work for Arlene.”

“What other piercings?” Dunwoody growled, causing Marie to blush almost to her exposed belly button.

“Nipples,” I said as the nubs in question made their presence known through the flimsy bra and thin blouse.

This time, it was Dunwoody who turned red.

“Marie also has angel wings tattooed on her back,” I continued. “I’m sure you noticed Palomita’s neck tattoo. It’s a way pet owners have of indicating a girl has been claimed.”

“His girl is Palomita?” Marie gasped. “I’ve met her! Her husband was such a sweet man.”

“Well, I’m not anywhere close to sweet,” Dunwoody muttered. “Forgive me for askin’ this, young lady, but just how old are you? You look like you could be enrolled here.”

“I’m 24,” Marie admitted. “I’ll be 25 in December.”

I made a mental note to confirm the exact date when I had the chance. My special girl would deserve a special reward if she pulled this off.

“Get your butt to class, Robinson,” Dunwoody grunted as the first bell rang. “I’ll make sure Miss Benson is taken care of.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “Behave yourself, Marie. Otherwise, I’ll let Mr. Dunwoody apply the spanking. He’s rather accomplished at it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she said, getting in one last kiss. “Have a good day in class.”

I stopped as I neared the door and turned back to the school disciplinarian.

“Uh, Mr. Dunwoody, if anyone asks, Marie is another reporter who snuck onto campus,” I said. “I delivered her to you as ordered.”

“Riiiggghhht,” he growled. “I’ll have to come up with somethin’ to tell Mrs. Montero if she asks why I suddenly have someone in ISS. Make sure the door’s closed behind ya, Robinson.”

“Yes, sir, I said, taking my leave and making sure the door latch clicked behind me.

I was halfway to Mr. Cochran’s room when I realized my Economics book was in my locker. There was no way I could go get it and be in my seat before the tardy bell. That might make it difficult to have a good day in class.

I walked into the classroom and explained the situation to the teacher.

“Why didn’t you go to your locker first?” he asked.

“I had to meet with Mr. Dunwoody,” I explained. “I found another reporter snooping around.”

“I heard about the one from last week,” Mr. Cochran snorted. “I hope there were no more ‘wardrobe malfunctions.’”

“This gal isn’t as well-endowed,” I said. “But it looked like they shop at the same clothing store.”

“Take your seat,” he ordered. “You should be able to get by without it today, but there will be a homework assignment and you’ll need the book tomorrow when we review for the test.”

“Yes, sir.”

I made sure to keep good notes in the back of my English IV notebook. I’d just have to remember to transfer them to my Economics notebook at some point.

At the end of his lecture, Mr. Cochran assigned us five essay questions from the book dealing with our earlier reading assignment and this week’s lectures. At least 50 but no more than 100 words per answer, which shouldn’t be too tough. I’d have to get with Chuck during study hall.

As it was, the left guard had a question for me as we exited the class.

“I heard you talkin’ about draggin’ another reporter to Dunwoody,” he said. “Any idea who she is?”

“You’ll have to ask Dunwoody,” I said as I looked away from my teammate — there was no way I could keep a straight face on that one. “He had her when first period started.”

I hit my locker and got what I’d need for Western Civ. We were reviewing for our test on the Reconquista. I went ahead and left all the stuff for English IV in the backpack. There was an off chance I’d have a few minutes to go over it one more time.

Western Civ was pretty straightforward, from the beginning of the Moorish invasion through the Alhambra Decree. I found it odd that Ferdinand and Isabella kicked out the Jews but did relatively little to the Moriscos, the natives who’d been converted to Islam by the invaders. Of course, those folks were ordered to convert to Catholicism or be expelled by Philip II in 1610, but that wouldn’t be on the test.

English IV was pretty much what I expected. I already had my laptop out and booted up before Mrs. Albracht gave us the option of pen and paper or PDF. The answers just flowed as I recalled what I’d said in class yesterday. I had to cut a couple of them short or I never would’ve finished the test.

At the end, I had enough time to go over my game plan for this week. Mrs. Albracht was curious about what I was doing, so I handed her the stapled pack of papers. From the look on her face, she found the play diagrams about as understandable as Chinese algebra.

Bell, locker, dash, dress. My expectations were met as Coach Bennett hounded me mercilessly through the lower-body lifting. It was like he was making up for not getting to chew on my ass during yesterday’s upper-body work.

We spent a little more time reviewing film of the Bears, but we’d covered a lot of it on Monday. The only thing I could see that might be a problem for our offense was getting the blocking assignments down for the ends and outside linebackers, but that wasn’t my responsibility. I wasn’t expecting to have to block anybody this week.

After a quick shower, I dressed and reclaimed the sling. Doc said he’d look me over before and after practice, but said a determination on my availability wouldn’t be made before Wednesday evening.

Morgan was waiting for me when I exited the locker room. Her mood was decidedly calmer than the weather today. We’d be lucky to finish lunch before the next wave of storms moved in.

“Did you really bring Marie to school today?” she asked quietly, looking around to make sure she wasn’t overheard. “There was talk going around about you being approached by another reporter, but the description sounded a lot like her except for the hair. And somebody swore she saw her getting out of your car.”

“Think of it as an undercover operation,” I said, hustling to get inside before it started raining. “She’s spending the day with Dunwoody. I thought she’d be able to advise him on how to deal with Mrs. Montero’s needs. She kinda went overboard with the hair and outfit, but it makes her look like she should be in ISS.”

“I still can’t believe you set the two of them up together,” Morgan hissed, again searching for eavesdroppers. “I mean, Dunwoody?”

That was accompanied by a little shudder. Hey, it wasn’t my fault he was the best available candidate.

We got into the lunch line along with all the other players who didn’t risk going off campus. I needed to change our topic of conversation with other people around us, but I also needed to make arrangements for getting Marie a passable fake student ID should she return to school in the future.

“Do you think Benny or Wil would be willing to do me a favor?” I asked the little elf. “I need someone who can do some graphics work. I’d make it worth their time.”

“We can ask,” Morgan said as we shuffled forward. “They should be inside by now. What do you need?”

Rather than answer verbally, I fiddled with the ID hanging around my neck until she noticed.

“In case she has to come back,” I said quietly. “We got stopped by a teacher almost as soon as we entered the building. I’m trying to cut down on obvious violations if possible.”

Morgan snorted as she cut off a laugh. It took a second for her to regain her composure, but she did nothing to attract unwanted attention.

“You are an evil, evil man,” she giggled, swatting me on my right arm. “They’d probably want to hack the school server and enroll her as a real student.”

We entered the serving line and I grabbed a burger. Marie’s breakfast had been more than enough this morning. Also, I didn’t want to tempt fate by getting meatloaf.

Morgan and I hit the checkout stand and made our way to our usual table, where several players were already congregated. We took our seats just as Elise — who, thankfully, was not wearing her choker today — and a couple of her teammates came over with their trays.

I breathed a sigh of relief as one of my newest girlfriends sat on the other side of my first girlfriend. The other volleyball players — I think they were the setter and libero, but couldn’t be sure — squeezed in next to a couple of cheerleaders who were eating with their boyfriends.

“Are y’all coming to our match tonight?” Elise asked conversationally. “We can clinch district with a win.”

“We’ll have to finish practice first,” Jed said. “If it’s stormy, we may have to use the gym again, so we’d already be there.”

“Either that, or wait until the weather clears so we can go outside,” Hank Preston said. “That’d probably make us have to miss the match.”

The volleyball players all pouted prettily at that, but voiced no objections.

“Gary may have to go hide from paparazzi, anyway,” Chuck snarked. “I heard he caught another one this mornin’ who was dressed almost the same as the last one.”

Every eye at the table — and a few from surrounding tables — was suddenly on me. I took time to chew my food very well and swallow before answering.

“It was no big deal,” I mumbled. “I turned her over to Dunwoody just as soon as I could.”

I should have known it wouldn’t be enough to get me out of trouble, though. It was Tuesday, after all.

“There you are!” Mrs. Montero called out as she came stomping in our direction. “My office, mister. Now!”

What now?

If this was about Marie, I might be facing disciplinary action for bringing an unauthorized person onto school grounds, but I doubted Dunwoody would have waited all morning just to rat me out now. That would make him just as culpable. If he was seriously considering the principal’s job, he never would have agreed to my suggestion only to sink himself.

If he’d had second thoughts, he’d have done something during first period and I probably wouldn’t be sitting here right now.

“May I finish my lunch?” I asked politely, which seemed to rile up Mrs. Montero a little more. “It’ll only take a couple more bites.”

“Hurry up,” the interim principal commanded. “People are waiting.”

I scarfed down the last two bites of my burger. I should have taken a little time to chew the first one properly before stuffing the last one in my mouth, but I was rather curious to see just what the fuck was going on this time. I’d barely touched my fries and slid my tray across the table to Jed and Chuck, who was already reaching for it. I didn’t even get to ask them to protect the remaining food from the defense before it started disappearing.

“Let’s go,” I said around the food, wiping my hands on a napkin and grabbing my backpack. “Morgan, please tell Kacie if she takes my car this time she’ll have to sit on a cushion for the rest of the week.”

Morgan blushed at the reminder I was willing to put my sister over my knee while the rest of the table’s occupants were blissfully unaware.

I followed Mrs. Montero along the well-traveled path to the front office. I resisted the urge to ask how her weekend with Dunwoody had gone. She didn’t seem to be in the mood for idle chit-chat.

When we arrived in the North Wing, my stomach sank. Mom and Dad were there. They seemed rather displeased to have been called to school because of me. Again.

Mrs. Montero directed us toward a little conference room where my stomach sank a little more. Dr. Stirling, Chief Baxter of the school district police department and Harold Chapman, the district’s lawyer, were there.

“What’s this all about?” I asked, plopping down in a chair. “If it’s about what happened at the dance Saturday, you should already have all the information. The Goldthwaite boy tried to punch me, the security folks took him down, I got kicked out of the dance for fighting.”

“The dance is only peripherally connected,” Dr. Stirling said, flipping through a stack of what looked like printouts of a web page. “There have been some disturbing reports about you.”

He handed the stack of papers to me. What I read almost made me throw up.

The first headline read “Harem Scarem: Lela’s beau has beaucoup beauties.” It was accompanied by a photo the oily dwarf must have taken at the mall. A secondary photo showed a closeup of four feminine throats adorned by chokers with Gucci pendants. They were all roughly level, making me think it must have been Kacie, Morgan, Bethany and Staci, who were all within a couple of inches in height.

The next one was “Gary’s Girls: Lela’s Lothario loads up on lovelies.” The photo was a high-angle shot of me escorting my Homecoming dates into Familia Benavidez. I noticed my face was the only one clearly shown, but it was easy for me to identify Sherry, Staci, Bethany and Elise.

The last one made me lose it. “High school grid hero a pedo?” The photo was a grainy nighttime shot of me helping Mikayla Peterson get seated in the Rover.

“Dad, call Bill,” I said, my voice shaking as I battled to contain my rage. “I’m callin’ in the big guns.”

I slid the stack over to my parents. Mom gasped when she read the third headline. Dad already had his phone out. I could hear the ring as the call waited to connect.

“Bill, high school, now,” Dad snapped. “Bring that fellow you told me about if he’s available. Shit’s gettin’ real.”

I don’t know what Mr. Richards’ reply was. Dad disconnected and punched another number. It was answered almost immediately.

“George, go time,” Dad snapped again, again immediately disconnecting and punching another number.

This time, it took a few rings before someone answered.

“Dad, it’s on,” my father said. “Let’s see if we can get this done without disturbing Mom’s trip.”

There was a brief pause.

“Yes, I agree she’ll have to know, but she shouldn’t have to come home before she planned,” Dad said.

Mom continued leafing through the pages, actually reading the articles.

“Where do they come up with this stuff?” she asked no one in particular. “‘Lela’s alleged baby-daddy has... ‘“

She stopped before finishing the sentence, her face going as red as mine. I didn’t want to know. But I had an idea what I’d do if I encountered a certain short Greek in the future.

One photo showed me dining with Elise. It was taken at an angle from behind her that didn’t show her face, but mine was clearly visible.

“That looks like it was taken with a telephoto lens from across the street,” Dad said.

“This picture was taken outside Jean and Frank’s house,” Mom gasped as she flipped to a shot of me and Morgan locking lips. “How’d they get that without someone seeing a photographer?”

“Drones,” I said.

“What?” came from pretty much everyone else in the room.

“Drones,” I repeated. “I noticed a couple buzzing around when I left the dance. I thought it was just kids playing with toys, but that’s the only way they could have gotten the shot of me with the Peterson girl. Notice how many of them are taken from a high angle?”

Chief Baxter and Mr. Chapman were immediately on their phones. Orders were given to subordinates. It seemed the paparazzi were circumventing the terms of the restraining orders. A certain judge was to be contacted. Officers were to confiscate any drones found near school district property. I had no idea how they were to accomplish that. Maybe take ‘em out with birdshot.

“I find the accusation of pedophilia particularly disturbing,” Dr. Stirling said. “People will demand we remove Gary from school.”

“Gary hasn’t shown any pedophilic or even hebephilic tendencies,” Mrs. Montero said, surprisingly coming to my defense. “At worst, he’s ephebophilic, which is perfectly understandable.”

“What’s that mean?” Dad asked.

“Pedophilia is sexual attraction for prepubescent children,” the interim principal said. “Gary has exhibited none of the signs. Hebephilia is attraction for early adolescents, generally age 11 to 14. Ephebophilia is attraction for mid- to late adolescents, roughly age 15 to 18. I’d say that’s perfectly normal for a 17-year-old.”

“That’s the clinical definition,” Mr. Chapman said. “The legal definition in this state is worded a little more broadly. How old is the girl in the picture?”

“She’s 13,” I said, “in eighth grade.”

“How did she wind up with you?” Chief Baxter asked.

“She was Goldthwaite’s date for the Homecoming dance,” I said. “She was left stranded when he bolted. I gave her a ride home.”

“Is that all?” Dad asked.

“That’s all,” I snapped. “Staci, Bethany and Elise were with me. I made sure to stay far enough away when I walked her to the door that she couldn’t reach me if she had any ideas. And even if I’d wanted to, the girl’s father was waiting on us.”

“There’s also the way he behaved on his ‘date’ with Stephanie Tucker,” Mom smirked. “From what I gather, she also went home disappointed.”

“I understand the Tuckers and Petersons attend the same church as the Goldthwaites,” Dr. Stirling said. “Gary just happened to be there both times the boy tried something. My daughter said the girl tried to hide behind Gary at the dance. He did nothing until Goldthwaite attacked.”

“Then why was Gary kicked out of the dance?” Mom asked.

“The district’s zero-tolerance policy,” Mrs. Montero said. “All participants are subject to disciplinary action regardless of culpability.”

“Seems a little harsh,” Dad said.

“Unfortunately, that’s the policy,” Dr. Stirling said. “It was in place long before I joined the district. And, as I’m sure Mr. Chapman would tell you, it would cause even more trouble to try to change it.”

“Believe me, it would,” the lawyer said. “The district could be held liable in case of retaliation. And there’s almost always retaliation.”

“I have no intention of retaliating as long as the guy stays away from me,” I said.

“But he’d probably try to retaliate against you,” Chief Baxter said. “He seems to blame you for his troubles as shown by his actions Saturday.”

“Just keep him away from me, then,” I said quietly, drawing sharp looks from my parents.

Our discussion was interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by Bill Richards and another man in a suit who had a lawyery air about him.

“Ladies, gentlemen ... Doug,” Mr. Richards said, acknowledging the others with a quick nod. “What we got?”

Dad handed his golfing buddy the stack of papers, the pedo headline on top. Our family lawyer made no comment before passing the page along to his companion, who still had not been introduced.

“Their one out is phrasing it as a question,” the guy said. “They can always claim they weren’t actually making an accusation, just voicing a concern. There is also the matter of malicious intent. For libel to apply, we have to prove the information is wrong, the perpetrator knows it’s wrong and published it with the intent to do harm.”

“Well, Cyril Eliopoulos did say he was really going to enjoy taking me down at last week’s interview session,” I said.

“Sounds malicious to me,” Mr. Chapman said.

“I’m pretty sure the local TV guys were still rolling if we need proof,” I said. “And Mr. Riddell was right there.”

Mr. Richards continued leafing through the stack.

“These all have different bylines,” he said. “Are we really looking at that many people being involved? A couple of things are worded almost exactly the same in different stories.”

“The Eliopoulos fellow apparently has a long list of pen names,” Mr. Chapman said. “He switches based on the outlet, subject, things like that. From what I’ve learned, he only uses his real name for major Hollywood news like the Oscars. George Patterson has people running an analysis of several hundred pieces to determine how many are really his.”

We were again interrupted by a knock on the door. I was surprised when Cody stuck his head in. I’d already missed the first five minutes of fifth period.

“Mr. Henderson said I’m supposed to get your homework if you have it,” the student trainer said. “He wants to know if you’re going to make it to class.”

“That’s a good question,” I said reaching into my backpack to pull out my Algebra II assignment and hand it over. “I have no idea how long this is supposed to take.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and get to class,” Mrs. Montero suggested as Mom nodded in agreement. “Carry on with your day. We’ll contact you if there are any developments.”

“And tell my daughter to behave herself in Chemistry,” Dr. Stirling smirked. “Mr. Debussy said he was surprised you were able to get the correct result in yesterday’s lab. He said you showed incredible concentration considering the distraction.”

I guess playing football is paying off at least a little bit, I thought as I gathered my stuff. Of course, Mom had one of those looks that indicated we would be discussing the matter further. Hey, I did nothing to encourage the girl.