Chapter 5: Tiffany and Chuck

When Bob walked out of the conference room with Lori on his arm, the others were left to sort things out by themselves.

Almost immediately, Tiffany turned to Chuck. "So... you have a thing for cheerleaders."

He looked down. "In the worst way," he said, almost sadly. "It's actually caused problems in my relationships."

"You want to talk about that?" she asked. She'd already looked around the room and decided that, of all the men, she could handle Chuck the most easily. Roger was old enough that she just wasn't interested. Jeff was married, and unhappy, and she didn't particularly want to listen to his tale of woe. Woody was interesting, but was obviously interested in Crystal, whether she knew it or not.

"Uh... I don't know," he said uncertainly. "I'm not too sure. Like I said, it's messed up some of my relationships before."

"Were any of them cheerleaders?" she asked, getting right to the point.

"No," he said.

"Well I am one, so I can punch all kinds of holes in your stereotypes about what we are like... were like... " She got a little flustered by suggesting she was still a cheerleader. That time in her life had been both wonderful, and agonizing at the same time. The agonizing part was so agonizing that she'd been happy to leave her cheerleading days behind her. Or she thought she had. Why she still... felt... like a cheerleader was confusing.

"OK," he said, as if he didn't mind at all having holes punched in his fantasies.

"Why don't we all just go sit in the hot tub again... like last night," suggested Roberta, a little nervously.

"We're supposed to be in pairs," said Roger, assuming the dominant role by virtue of his age. "We're supposed to... uh... talk about things... I guess. You talk differently in a group than you do when you're alone with someone."

"True," said Tiffany. She looked at Chuck. "Let's go talk." She started toward the door, not looking back. She was already trying to take the lead in this... relationship. Chuck followed her, looking somehow happy.

Chuck was shy, off the field, and out of his element, which was the testosterone-drenched life of young warriors. In that element, he knew how to act, what to say, how to use all that testosterone to make things happen. He did all right in the class room, because he had a lesson plan to guide him, and talking to kids was easy because they had so little life experience. Everything was new and interesting to them, if they weren't already jaded. He did all right in the teacher's lounge, where the chat was semi-formal and usually not very personal. Even in the group, the night before, he'd felt at ease, even though the conversation DID get into more personal things. He'd had nothing to lose then. He was just with a bunch of co-workers, where nobody should take anything that was said too seriously. That the women had taken offense at the men's comments had been expected, but then... who cared, really? At that time, they were all only here for a seminar on teaching sex ed, and then they'd all go back home.

It was when he was alone with a woman that he clammed up and felt suddenly the same age as the football players he coached. The women he'd dated, thus far, hadn't been teachers. He'd been set up with them by teacher friends. Most of them were in business, struggling to climb this or that corporate ladder, and they took life seriously. They'd been interested in him, initially because of the genetic component. He was fit, healthy and in a good job. He'd been OK in bed, as far as those women were concerned, until he got kinky. Serious women aren't interested in putting their hair in dog ears, or a pony tail, and jumping around naked, yelling "Go Team!"

Chuck knew his cheerleader fantasy was a problem, but it was the only fantasy he had. Had he been able to indulge that fantasy a few times, he might have gone on to seek something deeper with those women, and find that they were interesting in their own right. He knew that. He wasn't stupid. He was just testosterone-filled, like his young warriors. He couldn't get past that chemical barrier.

The other thing was that now, it wasn't just a sex ed seminar any more. He wasn't quite sure WHAT it was, but it seemed a lot more serious. He was teamed up with this gorgeous former cheerleader, and, if nothing else, his masculine pride was on the line.

That made him nervous.

He decided to proceed very carefully. He would master the testosterone. All they were going to do was talk, but he needed the practice, and he wanted to talk with this woman more than he'd wanted to talk to a woman in a long time.

He knew it was the cheerleader thing, but this time, he was going to beat it.

Tiffany kept walking, as if she had a destination in mind. She did. It was the bar, which was sparsely populated that early in the afternoon. She chose a booth, so she could sit across the table from Chuck.

Tiffany had seen the way Chuck looked at her, in her new bikini, as she and Roberta had dragged Jeff to the hot tub, the night before. All three men in the hot tub had, in their minds, stripped her bare of her new suit. She was used to that, even if she thought that was shallow. Bob's conversation about sex being quite naturally the first thing men thought about had, in a strange way, opened her eyes. She had known that was the first thing men thought about, but now there was a logical explanation for it. That made a difference, somehow. Her change in attitude was bolstered by the fact that she was quite aware that she checked out every man she met, making that snap judgment that Bob had described so well. In fact, she was aware she had just done that, choosing Chuck, over the others. She was a little amazed at how quickly she had discounted Roger. He seemed very nice, what little she had seen of him. But her genetic mind had said he was too old. She found it fascinating that she had just experienced what Bob was talking about, and that this was only the first time she'd realized what she was doing.

All in all, Tiffany Jones, who had a scholarly mind, and appreciated information that made sense, was willing to change her attitude, even if only a little, based on that new information she had been given. While she had, in the past, automatically turned up her nose at men who were obvious about ogling her, she now looked a little deeper before making that snap judgment that classified them as "jerks".

And, when it came to Chuck, he wasn't pushy, or crude, not counting his assessment of her breasts at the bar beside the pool. Even that had been more in the atmosphere of teasing her. Her outrage had been manufactured, rather than seriously felt. And he'd even apologized. That, in her book, made him a lot less of a "jerk" than she might have otherwise labeled him.

Besides... he was cute.

She sat down and waited for him to take a seat across from her. By the time he'd done so, the waitress was at the table. She ordered a screwdriver.

"Um... beer," said Chuck, across from her. He looked everywhere but at Tiffany.

"Well," said Tiffany, not saying anything else.

Chuck looked at her, couldn't help but drop his gaze to her breasts, and then looked away quickly.

"Stand up!" she said suddenly. He didn't ask questions. He just slid back out and stood up. Her eyes slithered down his body to fix on his groin. He had the overwhelming urge to cover his zipper with his hands, but just slid back into the booth instead.

"Now you know what it feels like," she said calmly.

He was saved from having to say anything by the waitress, bringing them their drinks. He took a gulp of his, while she sipped daintily from the straw in hers.

"It looks different now than it did last night, in the hot tub," commented Tiffany, casually.

He examined the label on his bottle of beer.

"Cat got your tongue?" she asked.

He squirmed in his seat, and finally took another gulp of beer. The bottle was half empty, now. He was feeling more like twelve or thirteen, rather than the seventeen he'd been feeling only a few moments ago.

"Oh, come on," said Tiffany. She took another dainty sip. "If you can talk about my breasts, surely I can talk about your penis."

He darted a look around, to see who else might have been able to hear her comment.

"You know," she said calmly, "we're never going to get anywhere if you don't start talking."

"I can't," he blurted. "I mean... Oh, I don't know! This probably wasn't a good idea!"

"What's not a good idea?" she asked.

"Us," he said, addressing his beer bottle. "Here... together."

"Why in the world not?" she asked. "You like looking at my breasts, and I like looking at your penis. That's a start, at least according to Bob."

He did look up now, and his eyes locked on her face. He was evaluating whether or not she was just playing with him. He'd taken out a girl back in High School who had done that... teased him mercilessly, and on purpose, with no intent whatsoever of helping him have a good time. He'd never asked her out again, and she'd made fun of him to all her friends. It had re-enforced his shyness.

But he didn't see the sneer he expected to see on Tiffany's face. He did see a twinkle in her eye, and the corners of her mouth might be raised just a smidgen, but the look on her face was more of someone who had told a joke, and expected him to laugh... with her.

Tiffany was almost shocked at the intensity of the look on his face when, at last, he looked at HER, and not just her breasts. He was acting so differently from the night before. Last night he'd been easy and confident in his manner. She'd expected him to spar with her... to fight back... perhaps opening the door for serious conversation, once they worked through the preliminaries of the game.

Now, though, he was acting like a one of her male students, who, when she had him stay after class to correct his behavior, had stammered and stuttered, looking everywhere but at her. She'd finally figured out that he had a crush on her, and that his behavior was an attempt to get her attention. She'd simply told him what she expected of him in the future, and sent him on his way. It had worked better than she had believed it would work.