Chapter 19: The Game of Life

The next few weeks went by in kind of a blur. There were tests and quizzes to study for, and there was soccer practice every day after school. Our games were every Friday after school, and my weekends were taken up with watching Davey and Kip play soccer on Saturday mornings, doing my chores around the house in the afternoon, then meeting up with some of my friends Saturday night. Sometimes Molly and I would hook up with Tessa, Kristina, Jen, and Sam and we would go to a movie, or sometimes we would hang around and watch television with some of our friends. Other times, I would get together with Jake or Josh, and we would go to the mall to play video games. It turned out that Josh never did get to use his condoms with Shayna. She broke up with him right after he got them, and now she wouldn't even speak to him. It hurt him, but he wouldn't talk about it at all, and no other girl we knew attracted him that much at the moment. Let it run its course, I thought to myself. It will all work itself out.

Jake, on the other hand, pretty much walked around with a smile on his face all the time. He wouldn't talk about why, either, but I was willing to wager hard-earned cash that he and Jaimie were finding a way to use up the condoms he got from me.

Our soccer team remained undefeated, winning our games by an average of four goals. Scouts from Division One schools were showing up at our games to watch Skip play, and as a nice side benefit, Theo started getting some good mentions in the local press, too. He was also drawing some scouts to our games.

Coach Neville, always mindful of the future, played his subs as much as he could toward the end of the games, when the outcome was certain. As a result, all of us got a little playing time each game, including our tested tough freshman backup keeper, Jorge Mendoza.

By the time Sunday rolled around, I was usually pretty exhausted. I was able to sleep in, sometimes not rousing until noon or after. My dad, my brothers, and I would sit around and watch football on TV, and Sunday evenings would be catch up on homework time, from immediately after dinner until bedtime.

Things changed, beginning on the last Saturday of September.

Molly, Tessa, and I went to Davey and Kip's soccer game in the morning. Each time I watched them play, I could see the results of our lessons taking hold. More and more of their teammates were starting to play positions on the field, and the swarmball mentality lessened. The most obvious result of this change was that they were winning a lot of their games now that they were able to control the ball more. Possession is a great defensive tool, Mr. Reyes used to say, and he was right. If your team held the ball for most of the game, the other team couldn't score. It was simple strategy, easy to teach but very tough to learn.

Lori sat next to us on the sidelines. She was looking a little tired herself. Molly was supposed to baby-sit for her later that night, and I had been invited over to watch a movie with Molly and the boys.

Coach Bill came over after the game to chat with us.

"How's your team doing, Sean?" he asked.

"Undefeated. I just wish I could get a little more playing time."

"You'll get your chance. And I know you'll make the most of it when you do," he said. "I've got a favor to ask. I'm going to be out of town next Saturday. Could you stand in as coach for me for their game?"

"Sure, I'll be glad to," I told him. I was surprised he didn't ask one of the parents to do it, but it made me proud that he trusted me with the team.

"We're practicing tomorrow afternoon right here. Can you make it? I'll introduce you to the rest of the team then and explain to them what to expect next game day."

"Sure, that's fine. Is it okay if Molly and Tessa come along, too?"

"Of course. As a matter of fact, I was going to ask Tessa if she could work with my keepers a little bit anyway, so that works out great." He paused. "If that's all right with you, Tessa. I didn't mean to be presumptuous."

"That's fine, Coach," said Tessa. "I'll be happy to help."

It was turning into a beautiful fall evening. I rode my bike over to the Wilkinson house after dark. The leaves on the trees were just turning into their amazing annual display of colors, and some were just starting to fall. I could hear the crunch of dried leaves underneath my tires as I rolled along the street.

I dropped my bike on the front lawn and climbed the steps to the front door. I opened the screen to knock on the door, but it opened before I had a chance.

"Hi, Sean!" "Hi, Sean!"

The two boys were nearly identical echoes of each other as they jostled to be the first to grab my hand and pull me into the house. The aroma of freshly popped popcorn came from the direction of the kitchen, and I could hear the rattle of ice in glasses from there.

"Come in, Sean. We're going to play Life!" cried Kip.

"What's Life?" I asked with a smile. It was a line in an old song I heard my mom singing occasionally.

"It's a game!" shouted Davey. "Don't you know about Life?"

"I guess not," I answered. "What's it all about?"

"Come on, we'll show you." And off they dragged me, into the family room where the board game was set up on the coffee table.

The three of us sat on the floor around the table. Davey and Kip had already chosen the pieces they would be playing with, and they started running the little cars around the board, following the painted road around and over the bridge and back to the starting point again.

Molly came in with drinks and popcorn. She favored me with a very warm smile as she set out the glasses and cans of soda. She put the big bowl of popcorn on the end of the table, nearest the boys, and sat down on the floor to my right. She was wearing black jeans and a baggy black sweatshirt that set off the golden red highlights in her hair.

The next couple of hours were spent in the pursuit of careers, families, education, and retirement funds, as we played game after game of Life. We laughed and yelled and threw tiny little blue and pink pegs at each other, and generally had a great time.

Finally, it was bedtime for Davey and Kip. Molly hustled them up the stairs to get ready for bed. While she was supervising brushing teeth and washing faces and hanging up clothes and putting on pajamas, I cleaned up the family room. I carried the dirty glasses and empty pop cans into the kitchen, threw out the remains of the popcorn, and put the game back into its box. I straightened up the pillows on the couch and crawled around the room, picking up bits of popcorn from the floor. By the time I was finished, Molly was turning out the lights and closing the doors of the boys' rooms, whispering a wish for a good night to each of them in turn. She came down the stairs slowly, walked over to the end table to turn off the lamp, and collapsed onto one end of the couch. As she slouched there, she beckoned to me with one lazy arm, a come-hither wave to her fingers. I knelt on the couch next to her and leaned toward her. Her arm, still hanging out there, snaked around my neck as I bent down to kiss her softly.

"Mmmmm..." she said, her eyes closing. I could see the cares of the world washing out of her face as she relaxed and let the pleasures of the evening begin to work on her.

"Come here," she whispered, pulling me down for another kiss. As our lips met, I felt her open her mouth slightly and her tongue dart out to tease my mouth. I let my tongue peek out to touch tips, poking and teasing and tasting for a few moments.

I was still kneeling over her, so I shifted one knee between her slightly spread legs. I was leaning on my left elbow with my hand resting on the top of her head, and my other hand was at her soft throat, tangled in her hair.

She pulled me closer, and opened her mouth a little more, inviting my tongue into her mouth. The kiss got harder and wetter, and my internal thermostat kicked up several notches. I had vivid memories of what her leg had done to me the last time we were in the woods, and here I was in an advantageous position to return the favor. I settled in a bit and began a slow ascent up the inside of her leg with my knee, making sure my foot and ankle kept contact with her. My knee stroked its way up the inside of her thigh, and her legs moved apart to accommodate me. Simultaneously, my foot traveled up her calf and stopped at the inside of her knee the same time my knee reached the juncture of her legs. I pressed against her just for a moment, and allowed my leg to descend at the same slow rate.

When I pressed against her pussy, she moaned into my mouth and squirmed a little under me. She used her arms to pull me even tighter to her as we both heated up. I let my right hand drift down, caressing her ear, and then her throat. I felt the rough cotton of the neck of her sweatshirt and brushed down the top of her shoulder, around to her back, and then down, slowly, slowly, to her waist, where I let my hand rest for a moment. At the same time, my leg was continuing its own exploring of her lower half, stroking up, then down, then up again, each time pressing just a little more firmly into the seams of her jeans.

My fingers found the bottom hem of her sweatshirt and wormed their way underneath to the soft skin of her lower back. Her skin was hot to the touch, burning with an inner fire I could only know second- hand. (The knee moves up, so slowly) I played with her skin, tinkling with my fingertips, letting her furnace warm my hand. (The knee presses against her, she thrusts her tongue into my mouth and then retreats, daring me to follow) My fingers spider-walked up her back an inch at a time, acknowledging the play of the lateral muscles they were encountering. (The knee begins its slow move back down her thigh; the foot caresses the calf from top to ankle) Halfway up her back I could feel her begin to quiver in heat, desire, frustration. My fingers tiptoed a little higher up her back. Where I would normally encounter a bra strap across her back, there was nothing but unencumbered skin. (The knee stops, pauses, and ascends to approach the portal once more) My heart rate quickened with the realization that I didn't have the intricacies of the hook-and-eye maze of a bra to worry about as my hand continued its upward journey, wrapping itself around her bare shoulder in a digital hug. (The quiver has reached her center, just as my knee presses once again against her; her hips now are engaged, pushing her heated mound against me) I could wait no longer, and my hand left her shoulder to caress down a little, to just under her arm, and around to the soft mound of her breast. (My knee, instead of moving back down her leg, presses harder against her; I can feel her shaking in anticipation, and I can faintly smell her excitement) I squeezed as my hand completely covered her breast. I could feel the nipple heat up and expand against the tender skin of the palm of my hand. With an audible smack, the contact of our mouths broke, and she threw her head back in pleasure, sighing my name. I bent down and kissed that hot spot just below her ear, just in back of her jawline, and licked up into her ear. She squealed breathlessly and held me tightly to her, her hips bumping up at my intruding knee. Even through two pairs of jeans I could feel the heat emanating from her middle.

I tried kneading her breast, followed by tracing concentric circles with my fingertips from the soft, sweet underside, around the outer diameter, and in toward the turgid nipple. I finally gave in to temptation and began teasing and pinching that swollen tip, then running my fingers across her chest to her other breast. I repeated my ministrations, not wanting to favor one over the other, but treating them both like they were my very best friends. She reached down and found the edge of my shirt. A little frantically, she began pulling it out of my jeans and running her hands up and down my back, scratching lightly with her fingernails. Shivers followed wherever her nails scratched, giving me a hollow feeling inside, a feeling of suspense and anticipation.