Chapter 14: Two dances and an invitation for more.

At practice the next day Jordan Foster ignored me like I had a wart on my nose, and Dale held me on a tighter rein. I got the impression that my efforts to deliver the tape to Jordan had been in vein. In addition to that, Charlie was giving me the cold shoulder, like he would never believe anything I told him again. The good news was that I was feeling better. I walked the field effortlessly, thinking that it would not be long before I was running.

After dinner it was announced that the varsity team was to remain seated. The rest of us were excused, left wondering what that was all about. We didn't have to wait long to find out; by the next day word spread that the team had watched a film of the Oakdale High School game they had played the week before against Sinclair. No one seemed to know or care how the film was obtained, and I suppressed the urge to take credit for bringing it to Jordan.

On Wednesday, Mr. Bigalow inspected my wounds and removed the bandage that covered my facial scar. It must have looked frightful because guys turned away from me the minute they saw me. I was feeling better and didn't take much notice. When the rest of us were excused after dinner the football team was told to remain in their seats for the second day in a row.

On Thursday night Charlie and I were forced to sing Waltzing Matilda for our roommates. And after we performed it with the freshman class the next morning Mr. Borden handed out a surprise quiz on the song. I got all of the slang definitions correct, but drew a blank on the history and the subtle political inferences that Mr. Borden had lectured about. From this experience I took one thing; when an instructor spends a whole week on one topic he is bound to want to know if you were paying attention.

We won the game on Friday afternoon, C.M.A. 20, Oakdale 13. While it was gratifying to know I had played a small part in the win I wished that Ned's contribution could have been made public. I saw him sitting with the parents, and was relieved to know that I had a ride home. I saw him again at the post-game dance. Oakdale had been invited to stay, but after their loss they declined the invitation so it was just C.M.A. and Speedwell students at the dance. That left room for the parents to float in and out of the room at will, although they were not permitted to bring drinks into the auditorium.

I spent most of the hour making excuses for not asking the Speedwell girls to dance, not that my roommates were concerned if I danced or not. They just wanted to ride me because they knew I was afraid to show my lack of skill. But they took notice when Senior Cadet Foster walked up to me and extended his hand for me to shake. "Thanks man; that was brave thing you did."

"What was that about?" Craig was beside himself with inquisitiveness. I was so stunned by Jordan's brief visit that I couldn't answer Craig, even if I could have thought of an appropriate response on the spur of the moment. I shrugged like I didn't know what Jordan was thanking me for. Just then, Sims Carter came to my rescue.

"Oldham, that girl you danced with last week was asking for you."

"Oh no, I ain't getting hooked up with her again," I said, thinking of how Paula had accused me of trying to kiss her after she got me to finger her pussy.

"Not the tall one. The other one wants you to ask her to dance."

I looked over at the Speedwell side of the room and saw Margaret smiling at me. Paula was there too, but wasn't eyeing me like Margaret was. I looked around, trying to think of a way to avoid walking across the dance floor. Craig was still at my side, ready to fire another question at me. I took off in the direction of the Speedwell girls.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance," I said to the smiling Margaret.

She made me tell her what happened to my face but I don't think she believed that I had been ambushed by two homeless vagrants who held me and beat me when they discovered how little money I had on me. Then she got to the main topic that must have been monopolizing her mind.

"Paula told me what you did to her," Margaret said, looking up at me, a little grin on her lips.

"I didn't do anything to her. She made me do something 'for' her and after I did it she lied to her parents about me. You can tell her for me that I don't ever want to get in a back seat again with her." I probably sounded a lot madder than I really was. If I had another chance to ride home with the Augustines I would jump at it.

"What was that you did with your thumb? She's been talking about you and your thumb all week."

"She's been talking about me?" I looked over at where Paula was standing. She was watching us, but turned her head when I caught her.

"I don't think she told anyone else about it," Margaret said. I wondered if Paula had sent her a warning stare.

"I hope not. I wouldn't want to get a bad reputation," I said, starting to enjoy our conversation. A bad reputation among the Speedwell girls would suit me just fine. By the time the dance ended I was moving to the music without thinking about what I was doing.

"Come dance with me again," Margaret whispered as I escorted her back to the Speedwell side of the room.

"I'm going to send Charlie Evans to dance with you. Tell him what I did with Paula."

"I will if you promise to ask me to dance again," she said. I did an about face and walked away.

My plan was to have Margaret give Charlie an account of me fingering Paula's pussy which would raise Charlie's estimation of my credibility. I wanted him to believe the descriptions of my sexual exploits if I chose to tell him something, just not to blab about it to the rest of the school. Getting Charlie to cross the room and invite Margaret to dance took more than a gentle nudge. He thought it was a trick. He didn't believe that she had something really juicy to tell him. "Look at her. She's practically begging you to come over there and dance with her," I said. That worked.

I could see that Margaret was enjoying herself. The moment they took the dance floor she began describing how Paula had gotten me to finger her pussy on the ride home the week before. From the way Charlie was listening, looking intently at Margaret and then glancing at me, I wondered how accurate Margaret's account really was. When Charlie delivered Margaret back to the Speedwell side of the room and returned to stand next to me he looked visibly aroused.

"She wants you to dance with her," he said. I didn't hesitate. Margaret was looking into my eyes as I approached her, showing me that she was just as worked up as Charlie had been. There was no question that she had given him every detail of my encounter with Paula. She answered my question, "Did you tell him everything?" with a giggle.

Margaret didn't waste any time. "Would you like to ride in that back seat with me sometime?"

"Sure, I would like that but what would we do?" I liked teasingly.

She looked at me, coyly. "I can't go all the way, but it would be nice to get to know you better, like you and Paula did."

"Who said anything about going all the way?" I tried to act shocked.

"If I came home with Paula some weekend and we went to a party, would you be there?"

"I don't know. I've never been to that kind of party," I said. This was getting interesting.

"But if I did, would you?"

"I don't know," I teased. "How come you don't want to go all the way?"

"Take me back. I don't want to dance with you anymore," she said, already heading to her station ahead of me. Paula gave me an evil stare when I delivered Margaret to the safety of her classmates.

What had I done to make her not want to finish our dance together? Well shit, I thought, at least I had accomplished something. Charlie was at my side again, panting to hear more. "Is all that true about you and Paula? Did it really stink up the back seat like she said?" I patted him on the back, assuring him that I would tell him everything when we had a private moment.

Ned was pleased with our win over Oakdale High School. I told him how I had been able to offer the tape to Jordan Foster and how he had sent a note for me to come to his room with it. But I couldn't bring myself to tell how Jordan had taken me downstairs to show me the newspaper clipping in the trophy case. I wanted Ned to be the one to tell me about Noland and him making all-state. I didn't even tell him about Jordan figuring out who had filmed the Oakdale game. Whatever he had done to alienate himself with the C.M.A. coaches would remain a mystery until Ned was ready to tell me himself.

This was my first chance to tell him about my ride home with the Augustines the previous Friday. He laughed when I described the pungent smell from Paula's pussy, and how mystified I was that Mr. Augustine didn't seem to notice it. I also told him about Margaret and how excited she had made Charlie when she told him about how Paula got me to finger-fuck her. I didn't mention about Margaret becoming upset with me, so upset she didn't want to finish our dance. I really didn't know what to make of it myself; how could I explain it to Ned?

Alice gave me my first dance lesson on Saturday morning in the middle cottage. I could tell that she had spent some time preparing for what she planned to teach me. In addition to a tape player, on which she had recorded a variety of music suitable for break dancing, Punk, the Moonwalk and even ballroom. She had disco from the seventies and something she called the twist from the sixties. She had also found two books at the library for me to take home and study. We started with the basic steps, counting one, two, three, four as we moved in an area about four feet square. I had been enamored with Alice since our first meeting and found it difficult to concentrate on what she was telling me. "Listen to the music, move with it, not so tight, guide me with your touch, God Damn It Sammy, those are my feet you're stepping on!"