The Competitive Edge: Playing The Game III - Cover

The Competitive Edge: Playing The Game III

Copyright© 2008 by Rev. Cotton Mather

Chapter 32: Higher Highs, Lower Lows

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 32: Higher Highs, Lower Lows - Welcome to the final volume of the "Playing the Game" trilogy. Sean Porter, soccer kid, is heading off to college. How will he fare playing the world's most popular sport, while trying to maintain a long-distance relationship with Kayla, his girlfriend who is still a Junior in high school?

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Teenagers   Romantic   School  

I had to win back Kayla's confidence and respect. I knew that was my only priority over the summer.

I also discovered that, between her work schedule at her father's drug store and my work schedule with four camps to supervise, I didn't have a lot of time available that coincided with her time off.

Instead of grumbling and grousing about it, I did what I did when I had a soccer problem to work through. I attacked it, concentrated on it until I could figure it out.

A couple of times a week, I stopped by Lehigh Drugs. I always had a purpose. Restocking the mosquito spray for a location, or buying Band- Aids, any little excuse became a reason to stop in at the store. If there weren't any other customers waiting in line, I would loiter at her cash register, just talking about inconsequential stuff. I just wanted her to get used to seeing me often once again.

After two or three weeks of stopping by at unpredictable times, I began to drop in around the time she would normally take her lunch or dinner break. At first, she seemed a little reluctant to tell me she was going to lunch, but I persisted. I wanted her comfortable around me, comfortable enough to invite me to eat with her.

There were times when I stopped by and saw her old boyfriend, Brandon, in the store. The first time, I attributed it to coincidence. The second time I saw him, I knew I was mistaken. It was not a coincidence he was there. I also was a little relieved, actually. If Brandon was the guy she had gone to her Prom with, I had nothing to worry about. She had already dumped him once to be my girlfriend. I was confident I could win her from him again.

But then, I began to see another guy hanging around occasionally. I didn't recognize him, but he was there too often for my taste. He was tall, with Nordic good looks, and an attitude to match. He was built like a football tight end, long and lean and strong looking. Kayla and I weren't grounded firmly enough for me to point-blank ask her about him. Was this Kayla's mystery Prom date?

Finally though, during the last week of June, my hopes and plans came to fruition. I was leaning on the countertop at Kayla's register station late in the afternoon. I knew she was working late that day, staying until closing at nine. I was heading out the next day on the road, driving down to Jesse's in the morning. I would be spending the day with his camp and staying overnight at his house. The following day, I was driving to Indiana to spend a half-day each with my Merrillville and South Bend camps. I wouldn't be back home until late on Friday night.

Kayla was noodling around, straightening stuff in a drawer under the cash register. "What time are you leaving tomorrow?" she asked.

"Around eight in the morning," I replied.

"Won't you be in rush hour traffic that time of day?"

"Maybe. But I don't mind. I'll have plenty of time to get to Jesse's."

Kayla looked around. Is she looking for the blond kid I don't know? She glanced at her watch, and then checked the big clock on the wall behind her.

"I need to go on my break," she said. She hesitated, and then continued, "Do you want to go to Mike's Pizza and get something to eat?"

My heart did a flip-flop. Did I? Oh boy, did I ever!

"Sure," I said as nonchalantly as I could muster. Joe Cool, that's me.

Kayla picked up the telephone next to the register and dialed the code for the store intercom.

"Dina to the register, please. Dina."

Dina, a thirty-something frumpy woman who was working part-time at the drug store so she could get away from her husband and bratty kids, came slowly up to the front of the store.

"I'm taking my dinner break, Dina," Kayla said to her.

Dina favored her with a put-upon sigh. "Don't be late," she said sourly. "I'm redoing the shampoo section."

"I won't be late," chirped Kayla.

She hurried to the back room to punch out and then came back up to the front, where I was waiting.

"Hurry back," said Dina. She was leaning against the counter, picking at something on her arm.

"I will," Kayla replied cheerily.

She pushed open the door ahead of me and began walking to the passenger side of my car.

"I've never been late yet," she grumbled. "Not that that ... biddy would ever take note."

I unlocked the door and held it open for her. I couldn't stop smiling. Luscious was in my car once again. The world was resetting itself. "It's because you're a D.O.B.," I said.

I closed the door for her and stepped around to the driver's side.

"A D.O.B.?" she said. She was sitting demurely, her seatbelt on and her hands folded in her lap.

"Yup," I said. "If it was Jake, he would be an S.O.B."

"Ah, I get it," she said with a smile. "D.O.B. Daughter of Boss."

"Right. Jake would be a Son of a Boss, but you're the D.O.B."

"Okay, but I'm always careful to do everything I'm asked. No questions, no complaining."

"I know, but people like Dina Young will always assume you will be the favored one. You're just cashing in on your birthright, and she feels free to be resentful."

"But why can't she see I'm the one who cleans the toilets, sweeps the floor, keeps my workspace neat and tidy, all that stuff."

"That doesn't mean she still doesn't think of you as privileged at the store."

"Maybe I'm given more important things to do because I'm more responsible," she complained.

"And you don't make mistakes," I said.

"So why is she like that?"

"Jealousy. A feeling of having no control over her life or her job. Looking for somebody else to blame, anybody but herself."

Kayla glanced at me, a serious and meaningful look, but she didn't say anything. For which I am grateful, I silently said to myself. I recognized the traits I had attributed to Dina Young all too well, as they resided also in me.

We didn't have time for pizza, so we ordered sandwiches and sodas. We were sitting across from each other in a booth. Kayla was chatty, telling stories about Tara and Kyle, but I was only half-paying attention.

Instead, I was sitting across from the prettiest girl I had ever known, and I was nervous, sweating, and nearly paralyzed by anxiety. I had spent months contemplating starting all over with Kayla, and now, at the moment I had anticipated for so long, I was stricken practically deaf, dumb, and frozen in place.

Kayla was just finishing a story about how Tara had dressed up Kyle as a Hell's Angels baby for Halloween when our food arrived. She busied herself getting her sandwich set up and pouring out a glob of catsup for her fries. I suddenly found the simple routine had unglued my tongue.

"So," I said as evenly as I could manage, "Purple Rain is playing in town this weekend. Would you like to go see it on Saturday?"

She stopped what she was doing, looking down at her plate. She was as still as a painting, and I knew what was coming. Without looking up at me, she said, "I'm busy Saturday."

My heart rose up into my throat, and then dropped to somewhere around my ankles.

"Oh. Okay," I said, much more calmly than I felt. I suddenly wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Kayla picked up her sandwich and took a bite. She got a sour look on her face, put her sandwich back down on her plate, and moved it off to the side.

I understood completely. My appetite had also disappeared, cast into the well of my own despair and disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Sean," she whispered. She truly sounded sorry, though I did note she didn't offer an alternative time or day for a date with me.

"Is it Bronson?" I asked foolishly, my only glimmer of hope in a suddenly bleak late afternoon. Bronson was our code-name for her friend, Brandon. "I've seen him hanging around the drug store sometimes."

She finally looked directly at me. She opened her mouth to reply, and then snapped it shut. She merely shook her head.

"Is it that other guy I've seen? The blond dude? Was he your date for the Prom?"

High spots of color bloomed on her cheeks. At last, I thought, I'm going to finally get some answers.

Instead, her expression softened into one of faint amusement.

"So tell me, Sean, did you have one special girl you were seeing last semester? Or were you playing the field?"

It was my turn to sit there in chagrined silence. All I could do was look at her as she amusedly watched me stew in my own juices.

And so, with that disappointing meal with Kayla, the ground rules for our pavane were established: Ask only those questions you truly wished to know. It was the Lehigh-Porter version of "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies."


I didn't let the impasse deter me, however. I persisted in my campaign to win her back. I kept on dropping by the pharmacy, and I added visits to Jake at his house to my repertoire. I kept the conversations I had with Kayla as light as I could, and we kept each other company at lunch or dinner at least once a week.

Brandon seemed to have stopped coming around, though I did see the other guy too often. I found out from Jake his name was Thomas Jorgenson, he was an honor roll student, a starter on the football team, and he would be a senior in the fall, just like Kayla.

Now I knew who my main competition was. I just had to figure out how to blow him out of the water.

Kayla helped my resolve, and contributed greatly to my improving mood, by agreeing to spend the day with me and my friends on a Saturday in July. We were going to the annual summer festival at Applewood Heights, one of the bedroom communities close to where we lived. They had carnival rides and games, and a DJ would be playing records in the park until long after dark. We were going to dance our blues away.

The morning started out cloudy with rain threatening, but by noon the skies were beginning to clear. It was looking like it would be a good day.

I picked Kayla up at her house at eleven-thirty, and we met Eric, Keisha, Trent, and Danielle at Muldoon's, an Irish-themed restaurant and bar that had recently opened. While we were waiting for our food, we attempted to plan out our afternoon.

"I vote for beach," offered Trent.

"It's cloudy," Danielle countered.

"But it's clearing," said Eric.

"No, the water will be cold and ugly," said Keisha.

"What about you, Kayla?" asked Danielle. "What would you like to do?"

"I don't think it would be very comfortable at the beach just yet," she replied. "Maybe we could check it out a little later this afternoon?"

"Okay, it's unanimous," declared Keisha. "No beach."

"Unanimous? Eric and I both voted for the beach," complained Trent. "Sean? You going to tie this vote up?"

Before I could say anything, Keisha said with authority, "There is no tie. We tallied the votes that counted, and it was unanimous."

"But..."

"Ain't no use," interrupted Eric. "They voted, and they threw out the questionable ballots. We got to accept the decision of the election judges."

"That's right," said Keisha smugly. I noticed she wrapped her arms around Eric's arm, though, and pressed herself against him. I had to admit it was a convincing enticement. I just wished I had a girl willing to entice me like that. Just be happy she's here with you at all, I reminded myself.

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