Chapter 8: Won't Make the Same Mistakes Again

We walked back to Brandy's apartment. Along the way, Brandy told me if we wrestled again, I shouldn't expect to win. She said she wouldn't make the same mistakes again.

My only reply was "neither will I." I wondered, silently, if she thought I was good, or just got lucky? I knew the answer was yes, to both choices.

We spent an hour in her hot tub. Then we went inside, and shared a hot shower. Then we went to bed, but we didn't sleep. I was exhausted when I finally left that evening, just as Brandy's boyfriend was coming upstairs.

Brandy and I didn't see as much of each other as we did during volleyball season, which had just ended. Both of us were seniors, and out of eligibility. We kept running, working out and working with weights at the same times we did when we were playing, and we participated in pick up games with girls from the team, but we hung out a lot less at other times. There was a working group of Kaps, Sigs and Deltas, which she and I were on, which met every couple of weeks right up until the big event. Our relationship was aloof. It was like we knew we were enemies, and might have to go mano-a-mano. I think neither of us wanted to beat up on a good friend, so we sort of suspended our friendship.

At one of the working group meetings, Brandy and I proposed that our sororities would jointly rent a big dual clock, and would jointly hire a wrestling referee and clock operator, and would be reimbursed out of the already swelling advance ticket sales. The Kaps wanted to know why we didn't want them to do hire the ref and clock op directly. We said we wanted them to be working for the participants, not the promoters. They muttered something about us not trusting them and of course, they were correct but we didn't reply.

My sorority sisters and I spend much of the time from December through mid-March working out, trying to determine who were our best wrestlers, and so the girls who were drawn at random the night of the event would have some idea what they were doing. It was logical to assume that those girls selected at random were at the greatest risk of being shaved and marked.

By January, we had purchased a large stock of cheap bikinis, and we were wrestling each other. After a few weeks, we began to follow all the rules, except for the shaving. We got some washable pens, and even had the winners marking the losers.

My middle brother Mark, an all-state wrestler in high school, and a wrestling coach in the next town, came by two evenings a week and worked with us. He watched us wrestle, and strip each other. He had a lot of good ideas, and frequently had erections too. Several of the girls wanted some extra help from him. I know Rox worked with Mark a lot; I suspect some of that time might have been spent wrestling. Barb also availed herself of Mark's help, as did Liz, Amy and Nicole. At first, I was embarrassed to work with my brother in such an intimate manner. I didn't think I needed to, because I won almost all the early matches, but as time went on, Rox began to strip and pin me pretty often; Barb and Nicole were getting close to my level too. I also learned those washable pens were not quite as washable as they were cracked up to be, at least not on flesh.