Chapter 30: Thursday Afternoon

"We Are the Champions"

Luis

My light workout over, I headed back into the Locker Room to shower and "change". How idiotic is that, change. Into what? My skin? I was a little pissed that the Program was making me standout in some way by being Naked. We wore our game jerseys for Pep Rallies for a reason. Not to separate us from the other students, but to show a unified front to the school. A central point to rally around for the game. Instead of the feeling of being part of the team, I'm going to standout.

Damn!

I grabbed my shower stuff, slipped on flip-flops--to help avoid the inevitable fungus on the floor of the shower, Athlete's Foot hurts! Bad! And the chemicals to kill it really, really, really smell bad.

"Damn, you're looking good, dude!" came Mike Holloway's voice as I was stepping into the shower.

"You know, I might get a bit worried about talk like that in the shower."

"Just don't drop your soap, man."

"Ha-fucking-ha!"

"No, seriously. You're pumped. You look ready."

"I feel ready." I looked over at Mike as he was sticking his head under the water. He had been doing a light workout as well, but our paths hadn't crossed in the Weight Room. "You're not looking too bad yourself, big boy."

"Jesus. Going naked has gotten to your head."

"Hey, you started it. But, you look pumped and ready. How's your game face?"

Mike whipped around and gave me an Arnold-like Crab--expanding all his upper back and chest muscles while doing a gorilla-like thing with his arms. His neck disappeared into his shoulders, his biceps expanded to the size of the average person's waist. His snarl and screwed up face, with the intense stare, should be enough to scare any defensive lineman. Hell, most professional wrestlers would leave the ring.

In a hurry!

I pulled my fingers into my palms and slowly tensioned the muscles all the way up my arms, through my chest and back, and down to my legs. I did the Maori face--tongue out and wagging while opening the eyes wide and thrusting my head forward. Then borrowed a bit from the All Black Rugby Club of New Zealand, the dance, or Haka, they do before each match, and squatted, put my right forearm up in front of me, and slapped my left hand across my chest into it. At the same time, stomped my right foot and gave the "Humph!"

Just as I was getting ready to move the other foot forward and switch arms for the slap, Phil shouted, "Perfect!"

Mike and I both straightened up and said, "What?"

"Can you guys do that at the Pep Rally?"

"Well..."

"Ahem..."

"Come on, it would be great. We'd get everyone excited."

I looked at Mike, he at me. We both shrugged at the same time. "Okay," we said together.

"You know you guys are scary," someone else said.

"Luis, what'cha doing?" another voice, muted by the running water to the point I couldn't identify the teammate.

"A Haka."

"What the fuck is that?"

"The best team in Rugby, in the World, is the New Zealand All Blacks-"

"Yo! Home boys!"

"Well, sort of. The name comes from their uniform, all black, but the Home Boys are natives. Anyway, starting many years ago, they began to open matches against their opponents with a traditional Maori dance, very energetic and ... Well, exciting. It's a show of power, strength, and prowess. The All Blacks use a version that is very much a war dance. A challenge to their opponents."

"Shit. We should do that before the game tomorrow night."

"I don't know. It only works if it is synchronized. And ... there is an accompanying chant that goes with, usually a challenge in Maori."

"Could we do something simple, yet effective?" Phil asked.

"If we could use practice time today to put it together."

"I know we're ready. This might be the thing that pulls us together," Phil stated with conviction.

Mike and I looked at each other. Hard. We both started nodding at the same time. I let him speak up, "Let's do it."

The Captains had agreed. "I'll take it to Coach MacF," said Phil.

"We'll need someone to do the chant and write it," I added.

"Do you know anyone?"

I thought for less than a second, "Yeah, I might. The Nakeds. We've got tons of talent, including at least three writers."

"Talk to them?"

"After the Rally, sure."

"Okay, if it works, tell us at practice."

"Done."

We all exited the shower, dried, and headed to our lockers. I was surprised to see what looked like my Away Jersey hanging in my locker. Pep Rally. Official school function. Naked. I couldn't wear it. Damn.

Just then Coach MacFarland came up to me. "Luis, I've talked to the Program officials and others. We've all agreed that while the jersey isn't required protective equipment outside of a game, it creates harm in not wearing it to the rally tonight ... and school tomorrow."

"But..."

"No buts, or should I say, butts. You will be showing yours. You can't wear pants with it. You'll notice it's not a real jersey."

"Isn't it unfair to the other Nakeds?" I studied this new wrinkle in my life. It was a loose mesh, just enough to form the shape of a shirt and hold the numbers, school name, and my name. It would be a bit breezy!

"Actually, quite a few of them insisted in the change. It is now a policy of this school. All people playing in team sports that are in the Program will be allowed to wear their team colors for rallies and during the day of a game, where it is a normal practice. The football team has been doing this for 50+ years, so it isn't an issue. The basketball teams, male and female, have decided to go with it. As well as the baseball and softball teams. Even volleyball. Everyone realizes the importance of showing team unity. The one concession, this is a special jersey. It ends at your waist."

"Oh!"

"Now, how are you? Your head into this game yet?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. I need you at 100% tomorrow night."

"You'll have it. And the rest of the team." I thought for a second, "What about the issues of before the game, half-time, and such."

"Right. Because of the time it would take you to dress on the field and miss the team meeting at half-time, you are exempt from the Naked rules from when you come into the locker room to prepare until after the game."

I could only stand there like a guppy out of water.

"You can thank me by winning tomorrow night."

"Coach, you know I'll do everything possible."

"I know you will."

"Oh, while I'm thinking of it. Are you familiar with the New Zealand All Black's Haka?"

"Oh, yes!"

"We want to do it before the game tomorrow."

"I'll set aside some time at practice after the Pep Rally for it."

"We ... Well, we might not have a routine developed by then."

"Do you have a caller in mind?"

"I was thinking Phil?"

"Good choice. You and Mike up front?"

"Damn straight."

"I'll teach Phil a call."

"Ahem ... Why not do this before now?"

"I was waiting for you guys to suggest it. If you hadn't by the time we got to the play-offs this year, I would have planted some seeds. As it is, it is your idea. More powerful that way."

"Thanks, I think."

"What? You thought playing for me would be easy?"

"No sir."

"Wait until you get to USC. You'll find that I'm a walk in the park."

"I'll let you know. Of course, after January of my freshman year."

"Oh, which bowl game?"

"BSC Championship, of course."

He just shook his head as he chuckled. "We'll, you guys get ready to head out to the rally now." We walked back towards his office, still shaking his head slowly.

Rebbecca

Walking through the halls with Rosalee, I got another lesson in Girl Talk. It must be instinctual, since it seems to come so naturally. And, I realized it actually satisfied some unknown needs. Imagine that. Well, at least the shopping gene hasn't been awakened yet. With my current wardrobe needs, I don't anticipate this as being an issue for a while.

"Have you said anything to Luis about Mike and I?" Rosa asked.

"No. I-I haven't had time today ... With everything ... Oh, damn." For some stupid reason, my cheeks were getting wet. I'm so bad at this teenage girl shit. It was so much easier being invisible. Lonelier, yes. Definitely more sexually frustrating. Well, not really. I wasn't awake before, sex was a need I took care of with my fingers after an intense passage in one of my novels. Now I'm approaching horny 24/7. Except when I'm crying. Which happens more as well.

Before I could take my pity party to another level, Rosa wrapped me in her arms, pressing her boobs into mine. She put a hand behind my head and pulled it onto her shoulder. She began stroking my hair and my back. Her words were just sounds, but comforting. Relaxing.

After a bit, I was able to pull back slightly and say, "Thank you. That helped."

"Hey! What are friends and potential lovers for?"

"D-Do you still ... I mean, with Mike..."

"You bet. Are you two still interested?"

"I-I ... Ahem ... Yes," I finally managed to squeak out.

Her eyes looked into me. Then she pulled me back to her shoulder. "Not until after you and Luis get comfortable with each other that way."

"I know," I squeaked. "Am I always going to cry when I get emotional?"

"It beats the alternatives."

"What?" I had to pull back to see her face for this.

"You could bottle it up and eventually explode. You could get pissy and bitchy. I don't see you doing that. The first I think is more your old style."

"Head in the sand might be better. Unaware, therefore unaffected." I felt more tears welling up at this self-assessment. Damn it.

"Do you like kicking yourself when you're down?" Before I could answer, "We're here. Now, do you want to cheer our hunks, or what?"

"Cheer our hunks." I did manage a little giggle.

"Let us make our Naked entrance then!" With that she pulled the doors open and the wall of chaotic sound from inside washed over me, pushing out the doubts, self-pity, and sadness.

Astounding me, two naked girls walking in didn't change a thing. The wall of sound was amazing. Nothing like a normal school assembly. This was front-row-center at a rock concert, trackside at an auto race with the cars roaring by right in front of you, at the end of a runway with jets continually taking off.

I knew this, yet it was ... new. Maybe I'm seeing with all my emotions and not just my all too literal photographer's eye.

I stood in awe. The amount of energy was almost overwhelming. Even in the chaos, the underlying theme was the team and beating our arch rivals the next day. Oh, how I wish I could convey this vision on a canvas. The swirls of conversations that say nothing and everything, the flows of energy pouring out towards a common goal, and the diversity of...

I was rubbing my fingers, feeling a brush in my hand. Seeing the canvas in front of my eyes. The brush was beginning to move, the textures, colors, and blending forming into-

"OH! Here they come!" Rosa shouted into my ear, pointing towards the platform/stage.

The team was following the Coach. Every one of them wearing their game jerseys. Even my sweetie. No, he wasn't. It was ... Okay, I've got the Internet. I've been forced (by my fingers) to watch some of the pervasive free porn. His jersey looked like some of the cheesy fishnet stockings some of the actresses wear. Hey, I'm an artist. I see all.

His lack of pants just added to the effect. Not to mention Junior leading his personal parade onto the stage.

I'm really glad My Sweetie had introduced me to good classical music, because that's what the rally felt like to me. A central main theme, but expressed in different ways.

The coaches' theme was to ignite their players, playing on the week of practice sessions, have them at their peak just as the game started. They were the strings. Their methods were subtle, yet sublime. They carried the main melody line, yet never over shadowing anyone.

The cheerleaders were the brass. Out front. Obvious. Encouraging the rest of the orchestra to overpower them, yet confident in their ability to out shout, out chant, and out yell everyone. Their visual routines just added another dimension to the theater of the rally.

The fans were the rhythm section. Clapping. Stomping. Chanting. Providing a driving energy that moved up and down as their theme interacted with the other two main themes.

The players were the soloists and the supporting chorus all at the same time. That's the problem with analogies, they work to a point!

Now who was the conductor? Was it the Coach? The head cheerleader? Dr Cavenaugh? Oh, he must be the oboe. His voice does remind me of one.

I'd have to spend some time after the rally and write all these thoughts down. I think I could do something with them, mixing the metaphors of a Pep Rally with an Orchestra. It sounded like fun.

"Hey, Rosa. Could you give me a ride home after this?" I wanted to get home and do some writing. The first time this week. I knew Luis had practice, so I had some time. I'd invite him for dinner.

"Sure thing, sweets. As much as I'd like to take you parking, I've got to get things ready for Mike coming over tonight. I have the house to myself." She winked at me.

"I-I ... Ahem ... Just ... You know ... a ride. I-I mean ... transportation." Do blushes cause skin cancer like sunburn does?

She pulled me to her and put her hand behind my head. The kiss was intense, deep, yet very short. "You're too easy!"

We locked eyes. In about three seconds the giggles started.

I managed to glance around and saw about a hundred guys slack jawed, staring at us. Oh, the kiss. Yeah.

Rosa started looking around as well. "Should we charge them admission when we move to the serious stuff?" She didn't shout, but it was more than loud enough for the group around us to nod their heads.

The giggles turned to laughter, cut off by another kiss, followed by Rosa proclaiming, loudly, "Oh, Baby! You make me so hot!"

I don't know where it came from. I swear. Where are the stacks of Bibles? My mouth, vocal cords, and lungs projected, "God! I'm almost there. Rub me, love!"

We locked eyes again and before we could actually do anything, we broke out in laughter.

The complaints started. Just as they started to get an edge on them, a slight, female voice broke through. "See the half-naked football player on the stage? That's this one's boyfriend." She pointed at me. "See the monster standing next to him? That's this one's boyfriend. Questions?"

Wow!

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, yet I was. The tone changed in a heartbeat. It hit me, then. Our display had produced the kind of lust and hormone induced insanity that could easily have had negative consequences.

Oh shit! I've read history. Rape, bizarrely enough, was once assigned to the dress, attitude, or actions of the victim! In that one moment I could see, in a misogynist society, how it could have been. It really allowed me to appreciate our society as it is now. Even if they make me go naked.

Okay. I don't mind going naked. I've gotten to the point I actually like it.

When the hell did that happen?

I need to pay more attention to my language. My course and profane language that I've used in my head was fine before. Now I know it is going to creep into my new life.

"Are you still here?" Rosa asked as she squeezed me.

"Huh? Oh ... Yeah." Yes, people, I'm a published writer. Very articulate. All I could do was give her a hug.

We drifted back into the Carnival-like world of the rally.

Just as it was ending.

Luis

As the Rally ended, the team was mobbed by fans. Mike had seen where Becca and Rosa were, so we were trying to head in that general direction.

"Oh! I love how that special jersey looks on you," some female said.

"Yeah!" another said, while running her hands over my chest. "So sexy!"

"Naughtier than being completely naked," the first said.

I think there were twenty or so hands on Junior. At least it felt like it. He let me know he likes rallies and the whole team spirit thing.

"Man, that has to be distracting," Mike said.

"You know, most of the time I don't notice."

"You're shitting me! Some cute chick is rubbing your dick and you don't notice?"

"Well ... Yes and no."

"You are a fucking geek, you know that?"

We just laughed as new sets of hands replaced others as the displaced fell behind while our march continued across the auditorium. There was a crowd around the girls that was breaking up. I wonder what that was about.

About five feet away, she saw me and suddenly I had an armful of Becca. "Hi Sweets!" With one kiss she devoured my soul.

I gave it willingly. Then I found she was giving me hers as well.

Or, were we just sharing? Blending? Fusing?

When the kiss broke, her soft voice whispered in my ear, "I love you."

"Love you back."

I looked over at Mike and Rosa, then whispered back to Becca, "So, they're a couple now?"

"Do you think?"

They were locked as tight as we were and it seemed they were sharing deeply of their hearts. Damn!

"Don't get too distracted, Hollow Dick."

His hand came off Rosa's butt and raised the single-finger salute to me. And casually returned to its former position.

My Becca's kiss eliminated any concern or issues with anyone around me. The world became her. That soft bit of flesh dancing with mine. Twirling, exploring, meeting, parting, rubbing on enamel. Igniting fires and opening connections between our hearts and souls. Mr. Einstein's Universe played its tricks again as the moment stretch to infinity.

"Hey, Rubber Dickie! We've got practice."

"I'm practicing already."

"Do you want Coach coming down on you?"

I looked My Becca in the eyes, hers were hooded with lust and love, "I hate to go, but..."

"I understand."

"Pick you up in the Art Rooms?"

"Nope. Come over to the house after practice. Rosa is giving me a ride home."

"Okay," I said, a bit confused. That lasted until she gave me a quick kiss and a pat on the butt. With a giggle, she took Rosa's arm and the girls went flouncing away. Mike and I just stood there drooling.

Once they were out of sight, we turned to each other and simultaneously said, "Practice."

We made our way to the locker room, joining the rest of the team. "Alright, full dress. Even you Contadino!"

It felt weird putting on clothes, but necessary. Even though this was a "no contact" practice, there would be some. Okay, a few good natured licks. Compression shorts with cup on first. Yes, Junior has a custom made cup. The standard ones are a bit snug and dangerous. Then compression t-shirt to protect my torso. We used different shirts depending on the temperature. This one was medium. It would wick away sweat, but not really trap too much heat, just enough to keep my muscles warm. My jersey is so tight, to prevent the opposition players from getting a hand-full, that I had to put it on the massive shoulder pads before putting both on. Tighten the straps on the pads, then pull down jersey.