“Kennedy, did you finish your math homework?” Asher Parsons asked Kennedy Anderson as the two departed the final period, a study hall. The two eighth graders turned left down the hallway towards the school’s back entrance.

“The first four problems were easy,” Kennedy replied. “Did problem thirteen make sense to you?”

“Yeah, that one wasn’t too bad,” Asher replied.

“How? We’re studying the Pythagorean Theorem about right triangles,” Kennedy retorted. “None of the angles in the triangles in problems thirteen or seventeen are ninety degrees. How can we possibly use the theorem if it isn’t a right triangle?”

“It’s not that hard,” Asher said. “Just div ... OH SHIT!” Asher and Kennedy stopped abruptly about a hundred feet short of the school’s back door.

“It wasn’t supposed to rain today,” Kennedy grumped. “The weatherman said it was supposed to be sunny and hit 62 degrees this afternoon. Do you still keep an umbrella in your locker?”

“I took it home the last time it rained,” Asher responded. “I forgot to bring it back to school. Do you have anything in your locker for rain?”

“Nothing.”

“Looks like we’re going to be jogging home today,” Asher remarked. “What choice do we have?” They two had no other choice. Asher’s house was 0.2 miles away and Kennedy’s house was 0.3 miles from Webber Middle School, way too close to be eligible for a bus to pick them up in the morning and take them home in the evening.

Thankfully it was a light rain. The two fourteen-year-olds jogged across the back parking lot of their middle school and took the walking path north towards their homes. The two had not reached the turn-off on the trail that led them west towards home when a flash of lightning nearly blinded them, followed almost immediately by a thunderous peal. The light rain turned to dumping buckets of water instantly.

“Crap! Let’s run,” Asher gasped as he realized he had survived. “That was too close.”

“I’m with you,” Kennedy agreed quickly. The two teens sprinted for shelter at top speed, urged on by two more strikes quickly, as they sought shelter. Another flash/bang echoed through the neighborhood as the kids ran. If anything, that lightning strike hit closer to them than the first.

“Holy shit!” Kennedy gasped. “I’ll get killed before I get home!”

The two were close the “Y” where the walking path split. It was only eighty yards to Asher’s house. Kennedy needed to go left at the split and had almost two tenths of a mile for her to get home.

“Come to my house,” Asher huffed as he ran. “You’ll be safe until the storm lets up.”

“Yeah,” Kennedy acknowledged. The by now soaked teens sprinted across Asher’s backyard. They ran under the overhang of Asher’s house’s deck. Not a second too soon, either. Dime-sized hail started pelting the neighborhood. This seemed like a typical Colorado mid-afternoon thunderstorm. Lots of flashes, booms and things pelting from the sky. Hopefully it would blow through Fort Collins quickly so Kennedy could get home, dry off and warm up.

The soaked kids shivered under the deck as they waited for the storm to pass. As could be expected for a mid-spring thunderstorm, the temperature dropped twenty degrees in the past five minutes.

“Can’t we get inside?” Kennedy asked as she pointed to the door that led inside to the basement.

“I don’t have the key to that door,” Asher replied, nodding sadly. “I only have the back door key, not the one to the basement.” The rain continued to pour down. The size of the hail grew to nickel- then quarter-sized.

The deck sheltered the kids from the worst of the storm, but the gaps between the boards on the deck allowed cold rain to drip on them as they huddled and waited. After five minutes of shivering with no let-up, Asher said, “That’s it. I’ll risk the hail and rain to get inside.”

Asher made his way under the deck to the extension where the steps from the deck came down to the patio outside their back door. He pulled his keys out and made sure he had the right key ready to unlock the door before he dashed across the twenty-five feet of open space through the hail.

“Wait here,” Asher directed as Kennedy followed him. “No reason both of us need to risk the hail. I will come around from the inside and unlock the basement door so you don’t need to risk pummeling by the hail.”

“OK,” Kennedy agreed.

Asher took a big breath and dashed across the open patio. Rain drenched him again. He reached the back door, unlocked it, and stepped inside. Thankfully that only two pieces of hail nailed him, one in the back and a second on his left leg. They hurt like hell when they hit him. He knew they were going to leave welts.

Water puddled at his feet in the family’s mud room. Asher didn’t like it but he had no choice. He stripped off his soaking clothing until he was clad only in wet, clinging compression boxers. He grabbed an old towel off the shelf and tried to dry off a little before heading downstairs to let Kennedy inside.

Asher briefly considered going upstairs to dress before he let Kennedy in but thought better of the idea. Poor Kennedy was outside, soaking wet and shivering. Screw the embarrassment, his friend needed to dry off and warm up ... now!

Asher hurried downstairs to the basement and unlocked the door and opened it. He stood aside to allow Kennedy in. She looked at him in shock and gasped, “Holy shit, Asher. You aren’t wearing anything.”

“I’m wearing boxers,” Asher replied defensively as he blushed.

“Which hide absolutely nothing,” Kennedy said as she stared at his crotch and stepped inside. Thankfully he wasn’t hard. The thin, tight poly material displayed his package, despite covering it. Beet red, Asher turned around to hide his package from his best friend.

Kennedy noted his tight, bubble butt. There was no question, this boy she knew since before pre-school was turning into a hunky teen. Kennedy shut the door and tried to shake off those thoughts. Asher Parsons had been her best friend nearly all her life. Their parents were friends too, going back before either teen was born.

They had played together and been friends since before pre-school. Unlike most elementary school kids, they had stayed friends while most of the boys and girls hung with their own sex to play.

Asher took a couple steps towards the basement stairs and said, “Put your clothes in the dryer. I’ll go upstairs to get dressed and come back with some clothing for you.”

“A big T-shirt of yours?” Kennedy suggested.

“Maybe my brother’s underwear will fit you.”

Eeewww ... no,” Kennedy snipped. “Anyway, Eli’s only ten and at least five or six inches shorter than me. I doubt it would fit.”

“How about a T-shirt and a robe?”

“That works for me,” she agreed. Asher headed upstairs quickly to dry off and get clothes for Kennedy. He grabbed a couple towels from the bathroom on the way to his room. He stripped off his wet boxers and started to dry off.

Damn! He had a naked girl in his basement. The thought of Kennedy down there, undressing and getting naked made him grow an erection in no time at all. This was Kennedy, his best friends for years. How could he think of her like that? He tried to will his boner away as he dried off, to no avail.

Finally, Asher did the only thing that could tame the beast. He jerked off quickly until he exploded with cum. Ropes of cum must have blasted two feet and splatted on his bare wood floor. He cleaned up quickly and got dressed in a T-shirt and sports shorts.

Asher was embarrassed at thinking about a naked Kennedy downstairs while he wacked off. She was his best friend! But still, she was a girl, and developing into a very attractive teenaged girl. She was developing curves in the right places and no way could she be called flat chested like some of the girls in their grade.

He headed downstairs with his robe, a T-shirt and a towel. “Kennedy, I’ll put things for you on the top step and stay upstairs until you’re dressed. Let me know when you’re decent. I’ll come downstairs and get your clothes in the dryer.”

Asher put the clothes on the top step, stepped out of the basement stairs and shut the door. “All clear, Kennedy.”

He heard her come up the steps. “Jesus, Asher. This shirt is huge. I can’t wear this.”

“It’s the smallest shirt I have,” Asher responded. It wasn’t terribly surprising. While most of their lives the two kids had been close in size, until Asher hit his growth spurt last fall. He shot up close to eight inches while Kennedy grew an inch. At 5’-8” and 126 pounds, he towered over his dear friend, who was only 5’-3” and 108 pounds.

Asher waited on the other side of the door while he waited for a heads up from Kennedy. He was surprised when seconds later the door opened, slamming into his backside. Asher jumped out of the way as she came upstairs.

“Um ... um...” Asher stuttered as he stared at Kennedy in his robe. She looked a hell of a lot better in his robe than he did. “Uh, let’s get your wet clothes into the dryer.”

“Silly, I know how to use a dryer,” Kennedy laughed. “They’re already drying.”

“Um ... oh, OK,” Asher responded.

“So, what’s next while we wait?” Kennedy asked. “You up for working on our math homework? I’m stuck on the last couple problems.”

“We could do that,” Asher agreed. The two headed for the kitchen table. As Kennedy passed, Asher caught a glimpse as Kennedy’s robe parted a little. Cleavage! Kennedy didn’t have that a year ago. Asher’s dick stirred as he tried to suppress thoughts he shouldn’t have about his best friend.

They spread their books out on the table and turned to the pages with the assigned math problems for tomorrow. “I am done with problems 1, 3 and 6, no sweat,” Kennedy said. “I get stuck with the next one, number 13.”

“I got that one,” Asher said.

“How?” Kennedy retorted. “The Pythagorean Theorem deals with right triangles. How does that apply to the triangle in problem 13? there aren’t any ninety degree angles in that triangle.”

Problem 13 showed a triangle with a base on the bottom ten wide and five high. The apex of the triangle was offset two from the left end of the triangle. Kennedy was right, there were no 90 degree angles on that triangle.

‘Not a problem,” Asher grinned. “Turn it into two triangles.” Asher sketched the triangle on paper, smiled and then drew a dashed line down from the apex to the base. “Now do you see it?”

“Yeah, I think,” Kennedy acknowledged.

“You have two right triangles,” Asher stated. “A small one with a base of two and a height of five. The second has a base of eight and a height of five. Can you figure out the missing dimensions now?”

“Yeah, I can,” Kennedy agreed sheepishly. “It’s that simple. The third leg of the small triangle is five squared plus two squared. Take the square root and the answer is...” She grabbed a calculator and punched the numbers in. “5.38156...”

“Mr. Moore is nuts on significant figures,” Asher cautioned. “Call it 5.4.”

“Ok, the second one is eight squared plus five squared,” Kennedy said more confidently. “Eighty-nine. So, the square root is 9.433 ... uh, call it 9.4.”

“You got it,” Asher said. “Good job. Now, the area of the triangle?”

“I know that one,” Kennedy replied. “Base times the height divided by two. It’s 25.”

“Write it all down,” Asher said. “You got problem 13. Let’s move on to 17.”

“I think it works the same way,” Kennedy said. She drew the triangle. It had a base of five and a height of five. The apex of the triangle was offset five to the right of the right end of the base, creating an obtuse triangle.

Kennedy sketched in a dashed line from the right end of the base, going perpendicular to the long leg. “Like this?” she asked brightly. She paused moment and added, “No, that’s not it. I don’t know the base or height of either right triangle.”