Chapter 37: Old Friends and New Ones Too

Suzanne answered the phone at the Oldham house on Sunday morning. "Did you receive my letter? Are you behaving yourself Sammy? Ned said you were going to a dance last night. Did you enjoy yourself? Tell me all about her."

I talked to Suzanne for several minutes, filling her in on what was happening, making her laugh and enjoying the sound of her voice. "You should get my letter tomorrow. Make sure you call her today. Girls like to be called after a date with a guy," she said before handing the phone to Mr. Oldham.

His questions were more probing. He didn't pussyfoot around like Suzanne did. I answered each of his questions as honestly as I knew how. Yes Sir, I was keeping up with my schoolwork. Yes, I thought I would play more in next week's game. Yes, the child services worker had contacted me. Yes, I missed playing chess with him. No, I had not played golf or tennis yet. What he did not ask I did not volunteer. I did not tell him about my run-ins with my sister's boyfriend or that Miss Baker was asking probing questions about my sexual experiences.

Before he ended the call Mr. Oldham said "Don't hesitate to tell us if you need anything Sammy."

"Thank you Sir," I said, wanting to hang up the phone before he detected that I was suffering from a lump in my throat.

The telephone rang the moment I hung up. Since my mother and Heather were still in bed I answered it half way through the first ring.

"I hear you like golf," the voice at the other end of the line said. It was Mr. Avella, Gina's father.

"Yes Sir," I said. He asked where I lived and said he would pick me up in an hour.

And that is how my friendship with Mr. Avella began. We played that day and every Sunday morning until it got too cold to go out. He was naturally inquisitive, explaining that having a lovely naïve daughter made a father over-protective. But he didn't try to dissuade me from dating her. If anything, he encouraged me, saying that although Gina might be a little old for me, he would prefer to have her go with me than boys her own age who would expect more of her than a tenth grader would.

Mr. Avella was in the insurance business and very personable. He pointed out members of his club to me, both customers and those he would like to recruit as customers. He took every opportunity to introduce me to fellow members, telling them that I showed promise as a golfer.

Mrs. Avella, Gina and her little brother, Danny, joined us for lunch. "Daddy, he's not my boyfriend," Gina said, showing embarrassment when her father introduced me to a prospective customer. "He's one hell of a football player, too" Mr. Avella added, disregarding his daughter's remark.

As we left the club Gina and her father became embroiled in an argument over which one was going to take me home. Gina convinced her mother to let us drive her car but another argument ensued when Danny wanted to ride with us instead of his parents. Gina gave her brother a fierce stare that sent him diving into the back seat of his dad's car. I consoled Danny, promising that I would throw the football around with him sometime soon.

"Isn't this better than throwing the football around?" Gina asked as she backed her mother's car into the same wooded lane where Kenneth had parked the night before. She set the emergency brake, tore off her seatbelt and flew into my arms before I had a chance to answer.

"What's wrong?" She asked when I didn't react to her advances the way she expected me to. Hearing the traffic on the road bothered me. One of the passing cars was sure to see us parked there and possibly stop to investigate what we were up to. I missed the safety the cottages provided. I kissed her and discovered she was very receptive to my advances.

"This is not very secluded," I said, referring to the cars traveling along the road. I found the fastener that held her bra closed and Gina held her breath so I could maneuver my fingers to undo it.

"It's okay. I can't let you do more than this anyway," she said, adamantly.

"You'll be the lookout. Let me know if a car stops and I'll close your shirt," I said, preparing to suck one of her nipples into my mouth.

This is all I can let you do," she said, breathlessly. I felt her hand on the back of my head. Her breasts were firm and her nipples sensitive to my touch. I touched her knee and was moving it up her inner thigh when she jumped.

"I can't let you do that Sammy," she said. I stopped moving my hand. She didn't push it away or even close her legs.

"Why can't you? You let me do it last night," I said, a little confused about what she was telling me.

"I just can't. I promised Kelly I wouldn't," she said. Now I was really confused. My lips were sucking one of her nipples, my hand was half way up her thigh and she was telling me she had made a promise to Kelly to what? Not let Sammy touch her pussy? I lifted my head away from her nipple and looked up at her. There was a glazed look to her eyes and her lips were curled into a funny questioning shape.

"Why are you telling me this now? What was that we did last night?"

"That was an exception. I didn't expect you to do that. It just happened but I can't let you do it again."

I went back to sucking her nipples. Why wasn't she pushing my hand away from her thigh? I moved my hand again and felt her open her legs. Her panties were moist and her pussy lips felt soft and pliable.

"I can't," she protested, her breathing coming in little spurts. I stopped everything, put my hands up in the air and moved to my side of the seat. Gina fastened her bra strap and slid over to the driver's side, smoothing her skirt down. We buckled up and she started the car. I directed her to my house. Neither of us said anything until we came to a stop in front of my house.

"You live here?" She asked in amazement.

"Yes," I answered as I hopped out of the car and suddenly thought of something. "I left my clubs in your dad's car. Tell him I'll pick them up as soon as I can, okay?"

She nodded and drove away, leaving me thinking that I would never see her again.

"I told you she was using you," Becky said while we were having lunch the next day. She knew I made a habit of not talking during mealtime but we were alone at the table and I really wanted to make an exception with Becky.

"Did you ever go back to the pond?" I asked her to change the subject. She shook her head.

"I found out why the farmer's truck went out of control," I offered. Becky looked at me, interested.

"He got a cocklebur stuck to his ass and it hurt so much when he tried to sit down that he stepped on the gas by mistake and couldn't get the door closed."

A grin appeared on her face and quickly turned into red-faced laughter. Her eyes got big and she covered her mouth with her hands.

"It's not funny. Mr. Olsen got a broken nose and passed out blowing his horn. Luckily, his neighbor found him," I said, beginning to crack up myself from watching Becky laugh.

"It's not him. I was thinking of that day. Half the town saw my bare tits, including you," she managed to say before she began laughing again.

"Mr. Olsen saw them too," I said, causing Becky to laugh harder and making me laugh with her.

"What's so funny?" It was Gina. She sat down next to me, having broken away from the serving line. Becky froze with alarm and was getting up to leave when I stopped her.

"It was something that happened a long time ago," I said, looking at Becky and beginning to laugh again. She looked at Gina for a second, then at me before falling back into hysterical laughter.

Something hit me. I squared my shoulders and sat straight in my seat, looking straight ahead. Becky became quiet and both girls looked at me strangely. What was I doing? Why was I forgetting my training? "This would never happen at the school I attended last year," I said, thinking some explanation was required.

"What are you saying? You didn't have any fun at that school?" Gina asked.

"First, I wouldn't be talking to girls because it's an all-male school. Second, we didn't laugh while we were eating. We watched football film and prepared for our next opponent. We were kept too busy to have fun in the cafeteria."

"It sounds like a boring place to me. I've got to get back in line," Gina said.

"Where's Sid today?" I asked Becky as we walked to our Latin class. Nothing had been said about Freddy's absence. I assumed he had dropped out of school. But it was unlike Sid to miss school.

"I haven't seen him since the dance," she said dismissively and I let it drop.

"You shouldn't be seen with that girl. It doesn't look good," Gina said to me before biology class.

"Sorry," I answered, facetiously, thinking she couldn't be serious.

My sister answered the phone that evening, probably thinking it was for her. I told her to say that I would call the person back at 9:30 after I finished studying, thinking she would get the name of the caller. She told the caller that I didn't take calls before 9:30 on school nights and abruptly ended the call. I was furious with her. We didn't have that kind of distraction at school, not even with seven guys in the room. But I calmed down, telling myself that I would have to train people not to call me during my study time. I tried to explain this to Heather. "If I'm going to be your secretary you'll have to pay me," she said haughtily.

It was about a quarter till ten when Mr. Avella called to apologize for disturbing my study. "Did you have a good practice?" He asked.

"Yes Sir. It looks like I've got a job on special teams," I said, wondering why he was interested in my practice.

That afternoon I had not been sure which team I was to practice with, the varsity or the 'B' team until Coach Nelson called my name and made it official; my play during the Friday night game entitled me to a permanent place on special teams. He instructed one of his assistants, Mr. Horn, to take five of us to the other end of the field to work on kick-off and punt returns. Soon the field-goal kicker, his snapper and holder joined us. Mr. Horn spent most of the afternoon introducing the signals and having us run on and off the field, calling the name of the person we were replacing to alert him to get off the field. By the end of practice I noticed that my fellow members of special teams referred to Mr. Horn as Coach or Sir, kept moving and never removed their helmets during practice.

As I ran home I could not help but think how proud Ned would be of me. I would have to thank him for reminding me to remember my training. In three weeks I had progressed from practicing with the freshmen to being a member of special teams and had everyone talking about the two tackles I made in an away game that very few students from our school had seen. I was proving something to others and myself. In my tenth day of attending classes I noted that I was being emulated. Mr. Avella interrupted my thoughts.

"I have some friends coming to the house after the game Friday night. I told them you would be there. How long will it take you to shower and change after the game?"

"I don't know, Sir. Probably twenty minutes if we win, thirty minutes if we lose the game."

"Don't even think of losing Sammy. Repeat after me, we're going to win."

I laughed and did as he said. "We're going to win."

"Good man. Gina will wait for you. She'll have her mother's car. See you Friday," he said.

Shit! I thought. He's got friends coming to his house for a party after the game. What if I don't play well? How come he's so pushy?

Gina gave me a wicked stare when she saw me sitting with Becky and Sid in the cafeteria on Tuesday. We left before she was served so I didn't talk with her until biology class.