Chapter 59: Wednesday, Oct. 10

I awoke to find Marie straddling my middle and massaging my left shoulder in a therapeutic manner. Her choker was the only item either of us wore.

“Good morning, Daddy,” she said, leaning down to give me a sweet kiss. “Did you sleep well?”

“I think so,” I groaned as she continued to work on my injured joint. “But waking up this way is sure nice.”

“I can think of a better way,” Marie smirked, reaching between us to give me a slow stroke, “but we’ve got to get ready for school and you’re off-limits. Roll over so I can get the back.”

The hand on my dick certainly brought me awake, but she was right. I needed to get ready for school. And get my car back from Kacie. Marie crawled off me long enough for me to turn onto my belly, then resumed her position and went back to work.

“What do you have planned today?” I mumbled as she ministered to me.

“I’ll ride in with you again and spend the day in ISS,” she said. “Master Earl said he was going to have a long talk with Palomita last night. I wouldn’t be surprised if she joins us if she can get away from the office for a bit. One of the lunch periods, maybe. What’ve you got?”

“Let’s see,” I sighed as my shoulder began feeling much better, “turn in homework and review for a test in Economics, test in Western Civ, maybe get back a test in English, then athletics. After lunch, there’ll be a homework assignment in Algebra II, no telling what in Chemistry and review for a test in Creative Writing. Then football practice and study hall. I should be done around 7.”

“I can catch a ride with Kacie again or I can wait for you,” Marie said. “The house is still in decent shape, but I’ll need to give it a good cleaning by the weekend. Maybe I can do that Saturday while you and Morgan are taking the SAT.”

“Whatever you think’s best,” I sighed.

Marie’s efforts might have put me back to sleep if her pubic hair hadn’t been tickling my butt. She also managed to rub her boobs on my back a time or eight. I was just about ready to go all caveman on her little ass when she hopped off and popped me on the backside.

“Go get a shower,” she commanded. “I’ve already got breakfast in the oven. It’ll be ready by the time you get washed and dressed.”

I followed my orders and headed for the bathroom. I kept the water on the cool side rather than surrender to the urge to rub one out after Marie’s teasing. I needed to try to save something for Friday’s game after getting off the last two nights. Besides, it was more fun when one of the girls helped me.

Soaping up, scrubbing and rinsing off went quickly. I took time to shave and attempted to do something with my hair. It was almost long enough to hold a part without using any goop. Another week or two at most.

Khakis, polo and loafers would get me through the day. I checked my backpack to make sure everything I’d need for school was where it should be when Marie, wearing one of my T-shirts that was long enough on her to hide whether she had panties on, came in with her clothes for the day on a hanger.

“Can I go without a bra today, Daddy?” she asked timidly. “A camisole will be enough with this top. It’s not like anyone will be able to tell.”

“That should be fine, baby,” I said as I placed my backpack where I’d be sure to see it on the way out. “It really wouldn’t bother me if you did that all the time when you’re away from the house. Just make sure you’re dressed appropriately for the situation.”

I moved over to her to give her a little kiss, managing to slip a hand under the T-shirt and cup one of her little boobies. The act revealed she was, in fact, wearing panties.

“The main thing is to make sure your little cupcakes are adequately protected,” I smirked as I tweaked a nipple.

“Stop that,” she commanded, swatting at my groping hand. “We don’t have time. Go. Sit. I’ll get your breakfast for you, then I’m going to hop in the shower.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I grinned, releasing her mammary and turning toward the little table. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Already did,” she said as she bustled past and began preparing a plate for me. “Hurry, it’s almost 7.”

Marie placed a heap of some kind of baked egg concoction and a glass of pineapple juice in front of me, then departed as I tucked in. The food looked suspiciously like a quiche. For a second, I wondered if I was allowed to eat this stuff. The presence of ham, bacon, potatoes and cheese and the absence of spinach and a crust convinced me. It was a breakfast casserole, not a quiche.

I scarfed it down and guzzled the juice as Marie took a quick shower and got dressed. She was going with a toned-down version of her sexy librarian outfit. More like the sexy librarian’s more demure kid sister. The skirt came to just below the knees. The tortoise shells were the same, though. And she wore her choker.

The camisole provided ample coverage under the dark top. She didn’t even bobble much. And, yes, I checked.

“Ready, Daddy?” she asked after slipping on low-heeled sandals, pulling her hair back with a scrunchy that matched the top and draping the ID card around her neck.

“If you are,” I said, rising to put my dishes in the sink.

Marie took time to make sure everything was shut down as I collected the sling and my backpack. We were out the door and in the Rover before 7:15. Kacie probably hadn’t even finished her makeup yet.

We pulled into Kacie’s spot in the carport maybe 10 minutes later — the lights had been in our favor the entire way — and moved all our stuff to the trunk of the Beemer.

The first thing I noticed was my little sister had again left the top down. I was going to have to talk to her about that, I thought as I put it up. All I needed was for it to rain sideways from the open side of the carport.

The second thing I noticed was the fuel gauge when I put the key in and turned it far enough to turn things on, but not crank the engine. I had a little less than half a tank. It’d been above three-quarters yesterday morning.

“Excuse me, Marie, I need to go inside real quick,” I said, turning things back off.

I stepped through the back door into the family room with my own malicious intent.

“KACENDRA ELAINE ROBINSON,” I called out as I slammed the door, “FRONT AND CENTER, YOUNG LADY! NOW!!!”

“Stop shouting,” Mom said as she came in from the kitchen. “What’s the matter?”

“Kacie drove my car far enough to use more than a quarter tank,” I snapped. “That would be about 100 miles on the highway with the mileage I usually get.”

“I did not,” my sister protested as she came in. From my room, I noticed. She still had a couple of curlers in her hair. “I came straight home after band practice just like Mom said.”

“She’s telling the truth,” Mom said. “She didn’t use that much fuel.”

“Then who did?” I demanded.

“Your father,” Mom said, acting a lot like she had last week when she and Grandma used all my graph paper. “I picked him up at his office yesterday when we were called to the school. We weren’t expecting things to take as long as they did. He had an appointment with an important client and would have been late If I’d taken him back across town to get his car. He was back before y’all finished football practice.”

I just stood there frustrated. I had too good a mad on just to let it go, though.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“He had to go in early,” Mom said. “The client wanted to make sure of some of the wording in the contract.”

“He better close the deal,” I snapped.

“Already has, just tweaking some contract language,” Mom smirked. “This deal will be worth low to mid nine figures to the company. For, what, $10 worth of gas? I think you can afford it.”

“Then he can afford to pay me back,” I grumbled, “or cut me in. I need to get to school.”

I turned and reached for the doorknob, but stopped.

“Oh, and Kacie,” I said, turning back, “please remember to put the top back up when you do use my car. That’s twice you’ve left it down.”

“But it’s under the carport,” my sister whined, trying to crank up the adorable factor.

“It can still get rained on if the wind’s right,” I said. “We’ve had a lot of storms from that direction this week.”

I didn’t wait for a response, but the rumble of thunder reinforced my point for me. I hustled back to the Beemer, cranked up and backed out to where I could make a three-point turn and go forward down the drive. A few raindrops hit the windshield as I headed out of the subdivision.

It never really let loose as I drove to school, but there was plenty of wind, thunder and lightning along the way. I tuned the radio to a station giving weather updates — Kacie had left it on one that played lots of J-Pop (or was it K-Pop?) boy bands, another thing I’d need to bring up with her — and soon was getting caught up.

The hurricane was officially a Cat 5 and expected to make landfall sometime around midday somewhere in the Florida Panhandle. It was veering slightly east of due north and was expected to continue turning right, moving away from us. The metro area could expect more atmospheric disturbances for a couple of days, but it shouldn’t be too bad for our game Friday.

By the time I got all that, I was splashing through puddles into the senior lot. The stop at the house had put me a little behind. Travis Murtaugh was sitting in his pickup eating what looked like one of Tia Connie’s breakfast burritos when I reached my spot. I hurried around to get our bags and Marie’s door before it could really start raining.

“Another one?” Travis asked as he lowered the window a crack. “Where you keep findin’ them?”

“They find me,” I smirked. “Marie, this is Travis. He plays tight end for us.”

“Hi, Travis,” Marie chirped with a little wave before I started marching her toward the main building.

I almost lost it when we walked right past the same teacher who’d stopped us yesterday. The woman never even looked at Marie this time.

Dunwoody was in residence as I escorted Marie into his room. He acted almost pleasant as I completed my mission. Based on the ginormous travel mug of coffee and the bags under his eyes, he must have had a very long “talk” with Palomita last night.

“Getcher butt to class, Robinson,” he growled. “I’ll take care Miss Benson.”

“Yes, sir, Coach,” I said. “Behave yourself, Marie. I’ll see you this evening.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Marie said, getting in one last kiss that would’ve gotten me busted out in the halls. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby,” I said as I took my leave, making sure the door was closed.

Economics was nothing unexpected. We turned in our assignments and took more notes as we went over material that would be covered on tomorrow’s test.

Chuck grabbed me as we left the class. He wasn’t asking about getting together to study for the test.

“I saw you with Marie in the parking lot,” he said. “I thought you said she was already out of high school. What’s goin’ on?”

“She’s helping me with a special project that isn’t actually school-related, but school is where she can get the most done,” I said. “I’d better not say more than that. Maybe Sunday if you come watch football at the apartment.”

“That’ll depend on whether Kelli wants to do anything,” the guard said. “The cheerleaders won’t be up here decoratin’ lockers because of fall break.”

“Use protection,” I smirked, “and a safe word, if necessary.”

I dodged Chuck’s swipe at my head and went straight to Mrs. Edwards’ room to start getting ready for the Western Civ test. My laptop was on my desk and booting up before the tardy bell rang.

Like with the English IV test yesterday, the answers just flowed. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at a couple of questions that used the exact phrasing as some of the material I’d found on the website last night. I guess Mrs. Edwards was aware of the site. That made me reword a couple of things in an effort to keep my secret.

We got our tests back in English IV. I got an A and a little note from Mrs. Albracht that it was nice to see I wasn’t relying solely on Aunt Karen’s help. Apparently, a couple of my observations would have been mercilessly shredded by Dr. Robinson in an upper-level college course, but were better than expected from a high school student.

Mrs. Albracht then bid us farewell for the length of her maternity leave. We’d have a sub the next two days — thankfully, someone other than my aunt, who was still toodling around New England with Grandma — while the district searched for someone to finish the semester if not the year. Our teacher was to be induced Saturday morning unless the little buggers decided to arrive in the next 60 hours or so.

I was just glad the bell rang before her water broke.

Athletics was only fun if you enjoyed being twisted into unnatural positions. I was at least excused from exercises involving my left arm, but I think Alex Dewerson, a backup wide receiver, tried to make my left heel touch my right ear on one of the leg exercises. Then he tried it again with the right leg and left ear.

We finished up with more film study on the Bears and went over the game plan in our position groups. We’d start with our normal scheme at least through the script, then see where we stood. Coach Tucker wanted to show the power sets just long enough to give future opponents something extra to have to work on when preparing for us, but not so long that they could figure out how to stop it. The two-back zone read was never even mentioned.

After a quick rinse, I dressed, grabbed my backpack and headed outside to find Morgan waiting for me. It had rained off and on throughout the morning, leaving more puddles in the parking lot, but the weather seemed to be holding off for now. I wondered if the hurricane had made landfall yet.

We were making our way toward the cafeteria when Marshawn called out.

“Yo, Supermodel, wait up,” he boomed. “I got sumpin’ to ask ya.”

Oh, shit, I thought. Well, he was bound to find out sooner or later.

“Whatcha need?” I asked as Morgan and I slowed our pace to allow the linebacker to catch up.

“Food, first,” he crowed as he approached. “Wanna eat on the patio? The other guys don’t need to hear this.”

“We might get wet,” I said, eyeing the sky. “It’s supposed to rain most of the day.”

“There’s a little table in a corner that’s pretty sheltered,” Morgan offered, not realizing she wasn’t helping matters. Or maybe she did and just wanted to yank my chain. “It’s under an overhang. I ate out there all the time last spring.”

We made our way to the cafeteria and got in line. The hot plate was chicken fingers with mashed potatoes and mixed veggies. I could go for something resembling a real meal for once. I’d burgered it enough this week.

The card readers were working despite the weather — the system always seemed to get a little wonky when it rained — and Morgan led the way to her table in the little courtyard. I took it as a good sign that Marshawn didn’t object to her joining us. With a witness present, I doubt he’d beat the shit out of me for fucking his little sister.

We settled in, making sure everyone was under the overhang, and started eating. A few stray raindrops dotted the cement that was out in the open, but the heavy stuff held off.

“So,” Marshawn said between bites of his meal, “just what did you tell my sister the other day? She’s been actin’ kinda weird since then.”

“In what way?” I asked, struggling to keep a straight face.

“I don’t rightly know,” he said. “Sorta like some of the little ol’ widow women at church. I asked about it and she just said, ‘well, bless your heart.’”

“How is that weird?” Morgan asked.

“That’s the catch-all phrase for the little ol’ ladies,” Marshawn smirked. “It can mean anything from ‘mind your own business’ to ‘you are so full of crap.’

“She’s also worn longer skirts to school the last couple of days. And she spends all her time at home locked in her room. Said she has to study.”

“Well,” I said, trying to word my response in a way that would leave me as unscathed as possible, “I did tell you I wouldn’t go out with her again unless she was on the straight-A honor roll. I also told her she was to comport herself as a lady at all times, just like she was at church on Sunday. And I mentioned I’d probably side with your father on any decision he made, even if it was for her to never see me again, and that she should respect those decisions.”

“Dang, boy,” Marshawn whistled. “Maybe my momma was right about you bein’ a good influence. Ny’Quesha’s always been a little spoilt, bein’ the baby of the family and all.”

“In the interest of being totally transparent about things,” I said, “I did tell her I’d take her to the postgame cookout Friday if she showed sufficient progress this week, but I won’t go on a real date with her until all the conditions are met. That’s going to be late October or early November at the earliest.”

“And just how are you goin’ to decide what’s ‘sufficient?’” the linebacker asked.

“That’s my job,” Morgan cut in, again surprising me with information I had not known. “I’ll be at the cookout with Gary, too, so you don’t have to worry. I told Ny’Quesha I’ll work with her in study hall, but she’s already made A’s on all her homework this week. She has a couple of tests coming up that she won’t get results for until after we get back from fall break. I told her to make me a copy of her questions and answers. It won’t be official, but I can get close to what the grades should be.”

Marshawn had another question for me. Fortunately, Morgan had an answer that was almost believable.

“What’s the deal with the necklaces?” he asked, waving a finger at his throat. “I noticed all your dates had one at the dance Saturday night. Now Ny’Quesha’s wearin’ one, too.”

“Don’t let this get around,” she said, “but Gary and some of us girls have security details following us when we’re not at school. Staci Patterson’s had one since grade school. The chokers help the security people coordinate things a little easier. Instead of two security teams following us on a date, they can combine efforts. We all went to the mall Saturday with just a few watchers instead of five full teams. That might’ve been a little hard to ignore.

“If Ny’Quesha is wearing a choker, that lets the security folks know she’s supposed to be protected when she’s with Gary.”

“Huh,” the linebacker grunted. “I heard somebody say they thought that was how he marked his harem so he wouldn’t ‘accidentally’ grab the wrong girl. How safe is my little sister when she’s with him?”

“As safe as the president,” I cut in. “Most of these folks could qualify for the Secret Service. Some of the senior ones have actually been part of it.”

That seemed to mollify my teammate a bit. Then the little elf brought up a subject I’d hoped to avoid. Until the end of time, if possible.

“Has Ny’Quesha ever exhibited any signs of behavioral problems?” she asked Marshawn.

“Ya mean besides bein’ a spoilt little brat?” he smirked.

“That may be part of it,” Morgan conceded. “It’s just that she’s said some things to me when I’ve talked to her that made me wonder.”

“What things?” Marshawn asked, showing genuine concern for his little sister.

“Her views on sex, for one thing,” Morgan answered, opening up a can of worms that I desperately hoped wouldn’t result in Marshawn opening up a can of whoop-ass. “I seriously doubt she’s actually done anything like this, but she mentioned some pretty freaky stuff — bondage, exhibitionism, multiple partners, that sort of thing. I got the feeling she might could be convinced to try some of them.”

Marshawn shot me a very threatening look, but said nothing.

“Hey, I’m not into anything like that,” I said, raising my hands. “I’m pretty vanilla. And as for multiple partners, I don’t share. I told Ny’Quesha if she wants to go out with me, then I’m the only guy she goes out with.”

“What I’m getting at,” Morgan cut in before Marshawn could respond, “is Gary might be able to curb some of her impulses. If Ny’Quesha really is serious about seeing him again, he’d make sure anything she tries is done in a safe, secure and private environment. Or would you rather have her experimenting with who knows how many boys in a manner that could put her health and safety at risk?”

I was fully prepared to run for my life at that point, not that it would do me any good. Marshawn would surely catch me before I could reach the nearest entrance to the main building.

“He can really do that?” Marshawn asked, not sounding too sure.

“He’s already taken her to the health clinic to get tested for STDs,” Morgan stated flatly, making me seriously rethink taking my chances in being able to outrun Marshawn — I found fear to be a great motivator. “She told me she’s had several partners and never used a condom. I don’t want her getting in any deeper than she already has. Gary doesn’t need something like that in his life. I think he can turn her around. It kinda sounds like he already has, at least a little bit.”