It was a nice crisp autumn day as I waited for the bus to pull up in the parking lot. There were two groups of kids waiting for their ride. My group was the marching band. We were all there in our scarlet and gold uniforms and those weird hats with chin straps, our instrument cases at our feet. There were six girls with skirts so short you could see the matching panties they were wearing who had batons on the ground next to them. None of us would win any fashion prizes for our outfits but we were all proud to wear them. I had my hands in the pockets of the warm coat I would be wearing the whole time we weren't actually actually marching on the field at halftime.

There was another group of kids on the far side of the parking lot. They either had football uniforms or cheerleading costumes on. Each group took separate buses, like some kind of self-imposed segregation. It was almost considered a crime for someone in one group to talk to the other. Well, make that to talk civilly. There were always plenty of sarcastic comments from the other group to our group in general or to specific members. One of the main commenters was my sister Tiffany. And more likely than not, I was the commentee. My name's Trish, but she calls me Pint.

The kids in my group were all geeks, except for Susie Crandall. Susie had all the qualifications for geekhood, but she was just so darned sweet that she got along with everyone. I remember the first day of school when she was carrying her clarinet case and Jim Crankshaw, one of the football players, made some derogatory comment about her. It was an amazing thing to see. Here's this poor little freshman struggling to carry her books and her instrument without dropping them, her red hair in pigtails and glasses threatening to fall off her freckled nose, sniffing and turning on the tears, pretending not to understand how this six and a half foot senior could be so mean to her. Faster than you could say "Chump", he had her books in his hand along with his own and was following her to her class like a little puppy dog. She just looked at me as we passed and winked. From that moment on, Crankshaw defended her against anyone who had a bad thing to say about her.

Susie could have easily become one of the "special people," as Tiffany liked to call her friends, but she made it clear to everybody that she was one of us. She was friendly to everyone, no matter which group they were a part of, but she didn't get involved with the airheaded gossip and sex with anyone who could pronounce the word "coach" like my sister and her bimbo friends did. In fact, Susie never went out with any guys. Whenever she was asked to go out on a date, she told the guy her parents didn't want her going out. Which I always thought was strange because her sister was my sister's best blond bimbo friend and had to remind herself to start out in the front seat of the car whenever she went out on a date. Vicky had a reputation for being loose back in elementary school.

We were almost three months into the school year and she'd turned most of the senior and junior jocks down and the requests had died off. She was as nice as could be to everybody but just spent most of her time hanging around with us. By us, I don't mean the marching band, though many of us were members. No, I mean the geeks; the kids who felt we were there to learn something and didn't mind putting some effort into doing it.

School was going to let out at 2:30 today, an hour and a half from now. Tomorrow would be Thanksgiving, and we were on the way to Frampton High to play our annual game for the Thanksgiving trophy. Today's game would be the fifty first Thanksgiving match between us and spirits were high. Lunch period had been extended for a pep rally where we'd played our instruments, twirled our batons and the cheerleaders had jumped and cheered while the whole football team ran through the quad in their uniforms as the rest of the student body cheered. Heck, even the stoners cheered. Of course, after lunchtime they would have cheered for pretty much anything. We were now in the parking lot, waiting for the buses to take us to Frampton. It wasn't quite the Iron Bowl, but for both our schools, it was the most important game of the season.

I felt a hand squeeze mine in my coat pocket and heard "Hi, E."

The hand belonged to my boyfriend Dougie and "E" was his code name for me. It was our private nerd joke, and my heart beat a little faster every time he said it.

My sister Tiffany's mouth has seen more cocks than the showers in the boys gym. As a result, she's known far and wide as "Hoover." It's a name she pretends to hate, but I think she's secretly proud of it.

Dougie had been over at my house on Halloween because his brother had the chore of watching him and wasn't going to pass up a chance at getting laid. His half brother Doug isn't the best catch in the school, but Tiffany had to scrape the bottom of the barrel when she got stuck home on party night. Dougie and I were in the living room while they were in her room getting it on and he mentioned that his brother had a name for Tiff. I said, "Oh, you mean Hoover?" Dougie nearly choked on a candy he had in his mouth.

Well, I pulled the Heimlich Maneuver on him and stopped him from choking. The next thing we knew we were kissing, and then he was kissing me where I'd never been kissed before. I returned the favor and he nicknamed me "Electrolux." We've got a little more class than my sister and her friends, so I'm the only person who's ever heard him call me that. When we're out where others can hear us, he just calls me "E."

Earthwoman, eyeful, ecstacy, elation, elegant, elixir — any time someone asked what the "E" stood for, he had a ready answer. And then he'd look at me with that sparkle in his eyes. And we'd both know what it really meant and I'd fall in love with him all over again.

Tiffany had one rule for everyone she allowed into her bed — No Suckee, No Fucky. All who wanted any of her three holes were required to go down on her first. The way they complained, I thought there was something wrong or distasteful about it. Maybe it would be to some football jock, but to a nerd like Dougie, it was no problem. When I jokingly suggested it our first time together, he shushed me up and proceeded to plaster me to the ceiling by using his tongue between my legs. There were times I had no control over my body and made it very difficult for him to breathe by using my thighs to try to shove his face up my pussy. A half dozen years of playing the tuba helped him sail through it as if he had gills. After I caught my breath that first time, I switched places and earned my nickname.

Now, I said going down on me was no problem for Dougie. That's about as big an understatement as saying my sister had a guy in her room once. Dougie lived to eat me out. And he liked nothing better than telling me how he was going to do it, especially when there wasn't anything we could do about it at the time. Like at the dinner table with my whole family there. Just this last Sunday he did this thing with a pea and his tongue that made me spit my iced tea all over Tiffany. Of course she got all pissed and Mom was all set to dig out her thermometer and it took some heavy duty persuasion on my part to convince her I wasn't dying. The whole time Dougie has his arm around my shoulders, patting my other shoulder with his other hand, acting all concerned. I didn't know whether to kill him or kiss him. Later when My Dad commented on the wet spot on my pants, Dougie told him it must have been the iced tea. Knowing Dougie, I was probably going to be dripping while we were marching at halftime and it would probably be worse on the bus ride home. I didn't even want to think about Thanksgiving dinner at our house.

I didn't really hate him for doing it. By the time we got alone, he always followed through on his promises. And I'd always end up on the ceiling.

I was planning how I could use a drumstick for revenge when I heard an engine shifting down and saw two buses turn into the parking lot. The first one went over to the team and then ours pulled up. The school had sprung for a couple of new buses a couple of years ago when our team looked like it would go all the way to the championships and they got a lot of donations. Rather than the traditional yellow school bus, we had a couple that looked like Greyhound buses only they were painted scarlet and had "Jackals" in big gold letters on the sides. Yeah, some idiot named our team the Jackals way back when. We didn't have any Indian rights people after us but every once in a while some minister who saw The Exorcist and wanted to make a name for himself would try to mount some campaign to get us to change our name.

The inside of the bus was sort of like an airplane, with three seats on the left side and two on the right. Dougie took time to put his tuba in the cargo area and by the time we got on, most of the rows had someone in them. Susie was up against the window with a couple of empty seats next to her and she half smiled at me as we came up the aisle.

I raised my eyebrows and she kind of nodded her head, so I squeezed Dougie's hand and scooted in next to her, just ahead of him. So much easier than talking.

I looked over at Susie and she smiled at me. Well, she tried to smile. It looked more like a grimace.

"Hey, Susie. Are you OK?"

"I'll be fine."

"What is it? You can tell me."

She looked around at all the other kids and then looked down at her lap. "Not here. Maybe later."

Her lip was quivering like she was all set to cry. I didn't think twice; I reached around her shoulders and pulled her into me. She put both arms around me and buried her face into my chest. I heard her sniffle and felt Dougie's hand grab mine. I looked over at him and he just smiled and nodded his head in her direction. I squeezed his hand and put my attention back on Susie.

Susie stopped the sniveling but stayed there, holding onto me like a child to her mother. I used my free hand to gently stroke her hair Eventually the bus slowed down as we got on the freeway offramp and she pulled away, sitting up. She wiped her eyes with her arm and looked back at her lap. Dougie reached around me, holding out a Kleenex. She took it, gave him a half smile, wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

By the time she was more presentable, the bus was pulling into the parking space next to the team's bus. We had to wait for a couple of football players who weren't smart enough to figure out that they had to get out of the way before we could park.

I started to stand with everyone else and Dougie pushed down on my leg, keeping me in the seat. The rest of the kids lined up as close together as possible, moving like some kind of handicapped caterpillar down the aisle. When the back of the line was up near the front, ready to go down the stairs, Dougie stood up and held his hand out for me.

I turned and held my hand out for Susie. When she was up, I didn't let her go, but pulled her close to me.

"We're going to talk."

Her look was something between afraid and embarrassed.

"I mean it, Susie."

She smiled quickly and nodded, squeezing my hand.

By the time we got to the stands, we were lucky to find two seats together. Dougie and I took them and Susie went up the stairs a couple of rows.

My attention was on Susie. I just knew there was something really wrong and that she needed a friend. Dougie just sat next to me holding on to my hand. There was no teasing; he could tell it wasn't the time for it. When I leaned into him, his arm came around me and he just held on.

When there were seven minutes to go in the first half, we got the signal and started to file out of the seats and into the ramp. I looked at the scoreboard just before I turned the corner. We were ahead, 17 — 7. Maybe they'd pull it off.

We got lined up, ready to march out onto the field. It was after five and the lights were on and it was cold. Real cold, even with our coats on. I needed Dougie holding on to me for warmth, but tubas and flutes don't march together. I turned around to look at him and saw Susie in the row behind me. It wasn't her usual bright smile, but it was the best so far today.

The conductor gave us a wave and we all took off our coats and threw them over to the side. By the time we started moving onto the field a minute or two later, my teeth were chattering. A pair of gloves would have been most welcome, but you can't play a flute with gloves on.

I don't know if it was the big floodlights or the fact that we were moving, but I felt warmer when we started our routine. There was a bit more snap in my step than usual, and I noticed the rest of the band and the baton twirlers were exaggerating their steps as well. Anything to get the old body heat built up. I smiled when I saw that the score at the end of the half was 24 — 7 and didn't feel so cold any more.

I don't know if they were clapping to stay warm or if we were really better than normal, but the applause was a lot louder than it had been for the previous games. Maybe the word had gotten around about the second half's surprise and everyone was excited.

We went back into the ramp and Frampton's band took the field. We all made a mad dash for our coats. We had to stay there until the other band was done and halftime was almost over. Dougie came up to me and wrapped his arms around me. Boy, did that feel good after marching around in just my uniform. He let go with one arm and moved to the side. I looked up to see what was going on and saw Susie hesitantly looking at us. I held out my free arm, beckoning her. She looked at Dougie as if she was afraid, took a deep breath and came over. I put my free arm around her and then Dougie very slowly put his around her other side so we'd have a three person hug. As soon as he started to move toward her, I felt Susie tighten up.

Dougie reminded me of someone holding his hand out to a dog so it wouldn't bolt. When the hug was complete, Susie took a deep breath and let it out, finally relaxing. My Dougie's kind of special.

We stood there for a couple of minutes, holding on and keeping each other warm. I was the first one to speak.

"Well, there should be quite a show for the second half."

Susie said, "I didn't notice. What's the score?"

"24 — 7."

She smiled the most real smile yet. "Do you think they'll really do it?"

"Of course they will," I said. "It's not like they're smart. They're cheerleaders. I just wonder whose idea it was."

Her smile was genuine this time. "My sister's."

"Vicky? She had an idea?"

"Yeah. Hard to believe. Huh!"

I looked at Dougie. Poor guy, he looked so confused.

"What are you two talking about?"

"You'll find out," I said. "Just keep your eyes on the cheerleaders."

He looked at me, then at Susan, then smiled and shook his head.

We just stood there in our three person hug, each relishing our warmth and our private thoughts. I was going over my relationship with Dougie. We'd been friends since elementary school, both having feelings for each other, both too shy to say or do anything about them. If not for a piece of candy and a freak accident, he'd still be looking at the floor and shuffling his feet any time we saw each other.

It was hard to believe we hadn't even been going together for four weeks. It seemed like we were one of the old, established couples in the school. The jokes and the comments had died out and it was pretty much accepted that we belonged together.

Nobody knew for sure that we were doing anything. Some of our friends suspected, but Tiffany didn't have a clue. There were several times Dougie and I were making love while she had one of her jocks pounding her in her bedroom, next door to mine. There's something exciting about getting eaten out while she's urging some bozo on right on the other side of the wall.

One day last week, she had Kevin Pratt, the tailback from the football team over. Dougie and I were sitting together on the couch with our arms around each other when they went into her room. I pulled him up off the couch and we snuck down the hall and into my room. Tiff was giving him her no suckie, no fucky line and I looked at Dougie and pointed to my crotch. He licked his lips and proceeded to undo my jeans and help me out of them. Tiff seemed to be giving Kevin more instructions than she usually gave, so I guess he wasn't up to muff, as it were. Dougie was doing magical things with his tongue and was bringing me to my first orgasm when Tiffany started making her early noises. I came for the second time just after she had her first. One was all she got before I heard Kevin tell her to roll over. She cooed something back and the next thing I heard was Tiffany telling Kevin to give it to her hard, to really pound that ass of hers. I guess tailback was more than just a position on the team to Kevin; it was a preference, too.