Copyright © 2000, Jack Spratt. ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication Sunday A.M., May 7, 2000:

Special thanks to my Proof Reader, George Davis

Waiting for the axe to fall, wasn't what I had planned to end my day. I am in the principal's office for a prank I thought was great at the time. Putting a container of dish detergent in the school fountain created the most suds this school had seen in its life time. Now having time to contemplate my sin, it doesn't seem so great.

"Don. You can come in now."

Walking gingerly into Mr. Graat's office to face my sentence; this is not the best time in my life.

"Close the door and sit down."

"Your actions don't reflect your age, you have been a model student up to this point; the custodians had to work for two days to get rid of soap suds. But I must admit I haven't seen the fountain looking so good since coming to Riding High. However, it was wrong, and you know it. What do you think your penalty should be?"

"I don't know."

How was I supposed to answer that question, in my mind I hadn't done anything drastic and of course didn't deserve a penalty?

"Well, I have a great idea, and by the time you are through with this assignment, you will never pull another stunt like that in this school. I have reviewed the facts and you are guilty."

He was looking right into my eyes, awaiting my confession.

"Yes, Mr. Graat, I am responsible for the fountain caper."

"Well, you will be happy to know you just volunteered to become a tutor for all the junior students who may require extra help. I have requested the teachers provide me with a list of students that could use your assistance. With your high grade average, I am sure you will be able to help them. Don't you agree?"

"For all terms?"

It is mid October; this could be a long haul.

"Yes, I think that is very fair. It will keep your over active mind helping people, rather than thinking up any more pranks."

"When do I start?"

"Stop by my office after your last class tomorrow. I am quite sure the teachers will have provided me with some needy students by then."

I am a senior, active in sports; always have a good grade average. My best subjects are math and all the sciences. This is the pits; just imagine the students that I get to tutor; all the young teeny boppers, with their wide eye innocence. Being a senior, you are just tolerant of them in the halls. You certainly don't mix with them. That is about to change.

"Don, how did you make out?"

It is Gary. He is in my home room.

"Really, I can't give you a proper answer till the end of the year. I have been volunteered as a tutor for the juniors for the year."

"You're kidding, the whole year?"

"No! I am not kidding, really couldn't argue about it. I don't know what Mr. Graat's plan B was; had I refused."

Gary starts to laugh pointing down the hall. Coming toward us is a very young female student in a baggy sweater and oversized coveralls. She has thick rimmed glasses, her blond hair done up in a bun; certainly no sex appeal.

"Now there is one of your possible candidates, shapeless, sexless, hopeless and impish. I don't envy you. You are going to tutor some real winners."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. I will know my first victims tomorrow."

Heading home to face my parents that are waiting to hear my penalty, I enter with some reluctance. To them it is a big joke; they find my situation humorous and totally concur with Mr. Graat's punishment. My father's great saying is if you do the crime, you do the time; very comforting.

At school the next day my tutoring assignment is the talk of the school, in the halls I am the butt of many teacher jokes. There isn't much I can do about it. The day is rapidly expiring and the bewitching hour is getting close for my first student assignments. This I really dread, walking from room to room, has me more aware of the juniors than before. What a bunch of misfits, immature little rug rats. The time has come; slowly walking toward the principal office. Passing my locker, it is now baring a sign, 'Babysitter at Work', the sloppily hand made sign has to be the work of Gary.

"Good to see you are prompt."

"Yes, Sir."

"Well, you will be happy to know the teachers were impressed by you volunteering, the submissions have already started."

He produces a file, opens it, flipping through seven submissions.

"You will not get them all. We have students that actually volunteer to do tutoring, so I have picked out three for you to start with."

He hands me the files, looking at them quickly, two girls and one boy. Maybe it won't be so bad.

"All require assistance in math, some more than others. Angel Crain is the neediest. She has the ability, but is having great difficulty with the concepts. All of the files show their current marks and what we believe they are capable of. Your task is to prepare them for their tests at the end of each semester. You are to call them and make arrangements to meet them and their parents, then start an improvement program. I will expect a report on each student next week at this time."

"Yes Sir. I will call them tonight."

Calling Roger Larsen, it turns out he is normally an A minus student but his last math test was a failure. After talking to him for 15 minutes, I find out his problem is a new girlfriend, his parents have him on track. Making an appointment with him and his parents for Thursday, it is necessary for the report for Mr. Graat.

The second call is Amy Chilton; however, her bother advises me that Amy and her parents are out of town for two weeks. That leaves Angel Crain, the problem child. Calling I speak to Angel, introduce myself and the reason for the call and ask to speak to her parents. Mrs. Crain is impressed the school is concerned about her daughter's grades; the arrangement is to meet Angel at the cafeteria tomorrow and with her parent's tomorrow night.

Walking the hall in the morning, I attempt to pick her out of the crowd. What a choice of possible wimps. Entering the cafeteria, I ask a junior to point out Angel Crain. There, all alone at a table, is the sexless, wimpy, young girl that Gary had targeted in the hall, dressed in the same shapeless style of clothes as yesterday, hair done in an ugly bun and currently absorb by a contents of a notebook she appears to be studying.

"Hello Angel, I am Don Franks."

Angel looks up, her soft brown eyes study me.

"Hello."

"I guess you know why I am doing this, it is the talk of the school."

"Yes, I saw the fountain. I would never have the nerve to do that."

"Well it wasn't nerve, it was stupidity and now I am paying the price."

We review her marks and discuss her difficulties. Her major problem is math. All her other subjects are graded at A to a low of B-, confirming she is intelligent. She agrees to bring her books and notes home so we can review them tonight after the meeting with her parents to plan a course of action. Agreeing, she advises me she has to go to class and leaves. My first impression of Angel is she needs a keeper, not a tutor. She certainly doesn't have any sexual appeal to me. You want an example of a dowdy female, just look up Angel Crain.

That evening I am greeted at the door by Angel's mother. Now this is a woman, she is a blond with a Venus-like figure wearing clothes to accent it. She's very attractive and knows it. She invites me in and takes me to the library; following her is a visual pleasure. I meet her husband and we talk about a schedule to assist their daughter. Angel has her own study area in her upstairs bedroom. Her parent's are concerned about her math, as it is a major requirement for entrance to all the major universities. Mentioning that since Angel does well in all her other subjects, her math will improve. Mrs. Crain leads me to her daughter's room, just being close to her has me uncomfortable. Looking at how well groomed her mom is has me questioning why Angel dresses like as she does.

"Angel, your tutor is here."

Mrs. Crain motions me forward and leaves. Entering the room, it shouts female, a large bed with frills, a desk in the corner, with computer and printer. A young lady is standing with her back to me, her long blond hair shining. Further accenting the view is her well shaped bottom and nice long legs.

"Where is Angel?"

With that the young lady turns, it is Angel. Under that shapeless clothing and ugly hair style she wears at school is a gorgeous young lady. Gone are the glasses, replaced with contacts. Her figure is above average, now shown to advantage in stylish coordinated clothing. Her breasts appear well developed for her body size and accented by her sweater. She looks at me smiling.

"I am Angel."

She seems to be enjoying my confusion. Hell, she has a beautiful smile. At school she did not have any make-up. Her lips show a light covering of lip-gloss, her eyes without those horn-rimmed glasses are passion pits; that uncomfortable feeling rolls over me again.

"Boy, do you look different. Why in the world don't you dress like that for school?"

"Well, I don't want to be bothered by boys. I really don't have time for them; my goal is to make sure I qualify for the university entrance exams. Mom and dad continue to insist on the highest marks possible throughout high school."

With that comment, we start a comprehensive review of her approach to math; then create a course of action to improve it. Sitting close as she explains her difficulties; I have an opportunity to actually study 'Angel the girl'. Her blond hair shines as it falls down her back, and smells of the fresh fragrance of her shampoo, and gives me a strong urge to bury my face. Angel's full lips mesmerize me as they move; they seem to be teasing me, so kissable. Her blue eyes sparkle like drowning pools. I am close enough to feel the heat of her body as our thighs are touching; my woody is well aware of the beauty beside me.

But back to reality, after the appraisal of her course activity, there is hope. With constant reviews of her itinerary, materials and impromptu tests, I believe she can make vast improvements with her marks. We agree to meet again in a week. She leads me to the front door. The rear view of Angel, like her mother, is beauty in motion. Nobody will believe what actually is under the frumpy clothes she wears to school. What an amazing transformation from Angel at school; to the dream girl in front of me.

After witnessing the real Angel I decide that it will be acceptable to talk to her at school during lunch hours, as everyone is aware she is one of my students, really big of me. Later in the week, seeing her in the lunch room and in that wimpy outfit of the shapeless skirt and blouse, I join her.

"So how are you getting along with the math project?"

"Fine, you will find I have improved. After you left my parents laid down the law, if I fail, no vacation, just two months of summer school."

"Well, that would be rough. What do you usually do on your summer vacation?"

"I have been a lifeguard at a summer camp for the last two years."

Looking at her in amazement; so young and a lifeguard for two years.

She must have read my mind.

"I take care of the young children in shallow pool age's six to eight. I have completed numerous swimming and lifesaving courses."

"That must keep you busy."

What does she look like in a bathing suit, what a vision? After seeing the real Angel, my mind wanders. Looking at her, her glasses covering those beautiful blue eyes, knowing what is under the outfit, my body tingles. Angel has me under her spell, can this be? Not wanting to admit it to myself, I really want to get to know more about her. The fact she is a junior will certainly creates some problems. It will take some creative thinking.

In conversation, Angel tells me she is fourteen, just had a birthday two weeks ago. Her favourite colour is emerald green. Her scent of choice is Cornflower which seems to surround me being this close. Her soft very sexy voice has me tingling again. Looking at her knowing she is young beautiful woman, she seems to radiate sex; I really have to control my thoughts.

We discuss a number of items, including sports. She is interested in football and has been to all the games. She was in the bleachers watching me make a winning touchdown last week and as always sits three rows up from the player's bench. There is always a large group of juniors there, yelling and making as much noise as possible. In the past they have never been of interest to me but I make a mental note to look for Angel during the next game.

The week passes quickly; finally meeting with Mr. Graat to hand in my reports. Tonight is also my second meeting with Angel. Passing in the halls a number of times, each time reminds me of the beauty which lies beneath. When our eyes meet she always has a smile for me. The thoughts of her are in my mind continually, that wasn't supposed to happen. Gary has been on my case all week, calling me the great babysitter. Fortunately, he has no idea of Angel's true attributes. I would be the laughing stock of the school if anyone thought that me as a senior could/would be interested in a junior; that is a taboo. But the image of Angel gnaws at me continually. One of the unknowns is I don't know if she is even interested in me; this is really crazy me worrying about what a junior thinks of me, but what a junior.

The thoughts seem to create a need to see more of Angel. The problem is how not to raise any suspicion among my peers. Somehow we would have to arrange a private meeting but where? Tonight, hopefully, she will give me some indication if she is as interested in me as I am in her

Ringing the door bell, there is a sound of footsteps coming to the door. It is Angel, and this time wearing a short skirt and clinging blouse. Her legs are encased in sheer white nylons, her perfume assails me.

"Are you coming in?"

Embarrassed I follow her to her room. We reviewed what Angel has done for the week. Her class mark has improved marginally, but it is an improvement. We discuss methods of improving her understanding of the concepts. After pointing out a few areas of presentation, we call it an evening. Angel is more than pleased with the results.

"What are you doing Saturday?"

The statement it blurted out. Angel looks at me with a surprised expression.

"Are you asking me for a date? You are senior and a super jock and I am a lowly junior, a 'Miss Nobody'. Do you know what you are doing? If any seniors found out that you had asked a junior out, you would be the brunt of every joke imaginable."

"Angel, I am willing to risk all that. I want to know you better, as a person, not just as my tutored student."

Now committed, I await her verdict, nervous and excited at the same time; all this for a junior. Looking at Angel, it is fortunate she has no idea how she has smitten me!