24: No Ma'am

Jennifer and Courtney squealed so loud in the phone when I called them that it hurt my ear. I was beginning to wonder if they were always at each other's houses since I'd always found them together. But it was Saturday afternoon, after all. There followed a number of calls back and forth and our moms, including Mrs. Gordon, all got into the act before they called the dude ranch and finally, there was an agreement on when we would all show up. It took about a week to get all the arrangements made. It was going to be an interesting weekend.

Monday morning I rode my bike to school. I don't know why I'd never ridden my bike, but it was a good three miles and that was normally bussing distance. But biking was the only way I could think of that I'd be able to see Judy. I headed out of school with the 'walkers' Monday afternoon and got to the bike rack just in time.

"Hey, Shorty," I called.

"Don't you call me ... Brian! What are you doing out here with the little kids?"

"Judy, is this guy bothering you?" a gruff voice asked from behind me. He wasn't much bigger than me, but enough. I put both my hands up.

"No, Monte. This is my friend, Brian. Thanks for checking up on me."

"You want me to ride home with you?" he asked.

"I'd like to ride along if I could," I said.

"You go ahead, Monte. I'll be fine. Thanks!" Monte shot another quizzical look at me and then rode his bike toward the street.

"You really want to ride home with me?" Judy said.

"That's why I rode my bike today. It wasn't a bad ride, though. I miss riding since I gave up my paper route."

"Why'd you give it up?" Judy asked.

"I ... uh ... got hurt last spring and my girlfriend took it over. She really loved the paper route, so I let her have it."

"Girlfriend? Is that why I couldn't be your girlfriend?" Judy teased.

"Judy. You know why you couldn't be my girlfriend. Even though I broke up with Rhonda, or she broke up with me, you and I aren't at a good age to be boyfriend and girlfriend. I like you, though, and I wanted to see how you were doing this fall."

"Rhonda? But she's the girl in the barrel race who said she was your girlfriend."

"You saw that?"

"Are you kidding? After the demos, Miss Sullivan called everyone in the group and made us watch your demo on The Homemaker's Hour. After that, I just made sure I tuned into any live broadcast from the Fair. Did you ... uh ... do it with that other demo dolly?"

"Judy! First of all, you know I wouldn't tell you if I did. Secondly, I'm at least as much a virgin as you are."

"What makes you think I'm a virgin? Just because I'm little?"

"No. Just because I think you've got enough common sense to avoid that kind of situation until you are ready. Nobody's tried to force you, have they?" Judy was quiet for a minute as we pedaled toward her neighborhood.

"Tried. But he didn't succeed. And now ... Brian, there's some guys and girls that like adopted me. If someone tries to pick on me, they just back away or something. I've got some new friends this year."

"That's great, Judy. I was worried about you and that's why I wanted to ride with you today."

"Well, you saw how Monte reacted. He and Rich always seem to be close enough that if anybody comes up to me they just ask if I'm okay. And there's this cool girl at lunch named Lexie who asked me right out of the blue to sit with her. I'm loving junior high."

"I am so glad to hear it," I said. Lexie was Samantha's sister Alexandra. Sweet. "I was really worried that things would be hard for you. I don't want to interfere, but I want you to know that if you need a friend—not a boyfriend—that you could call me. Okay?"

"Yeah. Now tell me about Rhonda. And what's this about five girlfriends?"

"Fourteen, I think," I answered. Judy's eyes got big.

Thankfully, Lionel, Carl, and Derek were all in my Phys Ed class. For the most part, we just played whatever sport we wanted to. On Wednesdays we had to run a mile and we were marked down a point if we couldn't do it in six minutes. We got four weeks to get up to speed and then our times each Wednesday would count. Coach Hancock was our Phys Ed teacher. He also taught U.S. History. I thought it was cool that all our coaches and PE teachers taught real subjects, too. But he was the JV basketball coach and he always suggested we play a little basketball if we were interested. Well, having Lionel and Carl there, I chose basketball whenever it was offered.

Indiana invented basketball. Yeah, I know some Canadian in New York started the game in the 1800s. But look up the word "Hoosiers" and see what you get. By 1920, there was no one in the world who could stand up to an Indiana high school basketball team. And we had March Madness before the NCAA ever existed. It's all about the Indiana High School Basketball Tourney. As a result, if you drive by any farm, any country house, any school, any suburban garage, you'll see a basketball hoop attached to the barn, the garage, a pole in the back yard. So of course there was a basketball hoop on the gables of our garage over the door.

I couldn't even get the ball to the hoop until I was twelve. But like every Indiana kid I ever met, I'd pick up the ball and throw it at the hoop every day when I walked by. Sometimes in the summer, I actually played in the driveway. Of course, if we weren't playing army or baseball at the Hopkins' in the summer, we were playing basketball. They had a cement parking pad in front of their hoop, which was a lot nicer than playing on the cinder drive. So, yeah. I'd been throwing a ball toward a hoop since I was eight or nine. I could just never reach it. Oh, and the hoops were always hung at regulation height. There was never a six-foot hoop for little kids. You always shot for the ten.

I guess, I'd become pretty good at hitting the basket. The doctor had encouraged me to shoot the basketball to strengthen my arm after Kirby broke it. The ball usually sat in the garage all winter long and the first sign of spring was when we pumped it up and shot baskets. We'd scrimmaged a little, but mostly we played horse. That's where you take your best shot and if you make it the next guy in line has to make the exact same shot. If he makes it, the next guy has to make the shot. If you miss, you "get a letter." The first one who spelled HORSE was out and the game continued until there was only one remaining player. The only thing that was out was dunking, but you could put all kinds of spin on the ball and make ridiculous moves while shooting that the next player would have to duplicate. If somebody ahead of me made a bunch of moves or switched hands or threw the ball over his shoulder and made a basket, I'd get a letter. But if I got a free shot from outside the foul circle, the next guy almost always got a letter. Seemed I was the only one who could make those outside shots.

Coach Hancock came up to me after gym on Tuesday and laid a hand on my shoulder.

"You need to try out for the JV team, Brian. We could use you." I laughed.

"You need a short kid for some federal equal opportunity program?" I asked.

"Basketball is a game of skill, not just a game of height," Coach said. I looked up at him. He was almost as tall as Lionel.

"If you say so, Coach."

"We're playing a girl this year. We might as well play a short kid, too," Coach laughed. I got to thinking. Whitney was the girl he was talking about. It would be pretty cool to play with her. I was pretty sure Lionel was going to play varsity, even as a freshman. All he could talk about was playing on the same team as his brother. Carl and Doug would probably make the JV team, though. They were both six feet tall. Hell. Why not?

"Hey, Denise," I said at lunch on Wednesday. "How about going to see that new movie on Saturday? Interested?"

"Well damn, paleface. I just told Dougie I'd go see that with him. Why don't you grab someone and come with us?" I glanced around the table. Samantha raised her hand and waved at me.

"Samantha? Did you have something you wanted to say?" I asked.

"Yes, teacher. I was wondering if you'd like to go see that new movie Saturday afternoon with Denise, Dougie, and me." I'd never heard Doug referred to as Dougie until Denise said it and when Samantha used the name he turned red.

"Samantha!" I said. "I was just wondering about that. I'd love to go. Thank you for asking me."

"Dutch treat," Samantha said. "I can't pay for both of us."

"No problem. I'll even buy popcorn." I looked at Denise and Doug. "For the two of us." Our group was really having fun. Some were going out this weekend and some weren't. But it seemed that everyone was fine with it.

On Thursday, I approached Candace's table and said 'hi' to everyone.

"I didn't think you were going to show," Candace said, smiling up at me from her seat. "If you'd like to give me a kiss on the cheek, boyfriend, you could do that." I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and sat my tray down next to hers. "Everybody, I want you all to meet my boyfriend, Brian," she said to the table.

"Wasn't that just a publicity stunt you guys did on TV?" a pretty blonde said. She was a little ... soft around the edges, but no one in his right mind would call her overweight. She just had really nice curves. "You guys were great on that TV show. Miss Sullivan got a video tape and Mrs. Abernathy showed it in Home Ec."

"Started out as a joke," Candace said. "But I've fallen for this kid—and the other ... sixteen? ... in our dating group. Oh, Brian, this trashy blonde who asked personal questions is Mercedes." I stood enough that I could reach to shake her hand. "I know what you're thinking, and yes, she is a luxury ride. Ask anyone at the table."

"Candace," Mercedes hissed.

"I love you, sweetheart. You know I'm kidding." Candace introduced me to the others in her group and we relaxed pretty quickly. They were all witty and the main theme was talking about the fall musical.

"Do you sing, Brian?" Mercedes asked sweetly. Fuck! She had just the right amount of makeup on to accent her blue eyes and her dress looked like a layer of gauze over lush curves. I forgot the question as soon as she asked it.

"Baritone or tenor, Brian?" Candace prodded.

"Uh, no. I don't sing very well. I don't think my voice has finished changing yet. And I was never much of a singer."

"He'd make a great Martin, though, wouldn't he?" Candace asked the group. She turned back to me. "Martin only has five lines and four of them are 'Yes, ma'am.' You could do that, couldn't you, Brian?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said without thinking. Everyone at the table broke up in fits of laughter.

"He's got eighty percent of the part memorized already!" a dark haired guy on my left said. I didn't remember his name, but it was obvious he didn't consider me competition for any role he wanted.

"Auditions are on Tuesday afternoon next week. Come to them and I'll take you home afterward," Candace said. She turned on a fake charm that I recognized as Candace doing a role. "Your home or mine, I'm not sure yet."

I guess somehow or other, I committed to auditioning for the fall musical on Tuesday.

The football game was an away game and none of us had transportation to go forty miles to watch our team get smeared. I knew what the results were going to be before the day ever got there. Reggie called me Thursday night.

"Hey, how's college?" I asked.

"It's kicking my ass from here to there," Reggie answered. "I wish you were here to take notes for me."

"Like I'd understand what a college professor was talking about."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Even if you didn't understand you'd have good notes. Hey. I understand you had words with Mad Chad."

"It was nothing, really."

"Yeah, I got more sources on the football team than Carter's got little liver pills. You did good, but Chad's an ass. It was a pain to protect him all last season, but like you said, it takes the whole team to win the game."

"I think you said that."

"Maybe. You got me to think about it. You know the starting tackle on our team is two inches taller and forty pounds heavier than me? I feel like a fucking shrimp!"

"Welcome to the club."

"Yeah. Anyway. You know the St. Joe Valley team doesn't stand a ghost of a chance this season. Look, North Riley trampled them last week and that has to be the worst team I ever played against. So I just wanted you to know that ... uh ... there isn't going to be much offense this weekend. It's not like the team is throwing the game. They don't stand a chance against Rochester. It's just that the front line has been feeling a little weak this week. If I were you, I wouldn't even bother going to the game."

"Thanks for the warning, Reggie. I don't have a way to get there anyway. Besides, the only reason we came to the games last year was to see you smear someone."

"You're a good friend. Any advice you can give me?"

"What's your toughest class?"

"Calculus," Reggie responded immediately.

"Watch what the professor writes on the board," I said. "If it's on the board, it'll be on the test. It's a crappy way to learn a subject, but a good way to study for the test."

"Got it. Thanks buddy. I hear you've got a new girlfriend or a dozen. When I'm home on break you've got to let me in on the secret."

"Hey, Reg. Classes or girls, it pays to study."

Our quarterback, Mad Chad, was sacked seventeen times Friday night and we were behind sixty to nothing when he limped off the field and Coach Nolan put Rick Ambler in. Funny that Rick never got sacked in the last third of the game and we actually scored. We still lost.

I don't know why I was so antsy on Saturday. I went out and rode the collection route with Rhonda in the morning, but she sent me home before she went to the office. Our parents had all agreed that we could meet at the ranch and I could just see how excited Rhonda was about it.

"But now you need to go home and shower," she said. "And shave. I see a whisker." She pointed at the left side of my upper lip. Right. "You need to be all fresh and ready for your date with Samantha."

"Are you sure you're okay with me going out with all these girls?" I asked. I really wanted Rhonda to say that she wanted me to break the date and only go out with her. Dream on.

"Are you kidding? If she asked me, I'd go out with her. Have you ever really looked at her legs? They're like ... wow!" Oh, god, I'd looked at her legs. I'd touched her legs. They were like silk. And where her legs came together... Fuck!

"Okay," I said. "I'll see you Monday."

I rode home and showered and used the soap on my cock a lot longer than it took to get clean. Maybe I wouldn't sprout a hard-on as soon as I saw Samantha. Denise's father agreed to drive us that afternoon and she and Dougie were already in the back seat when they picked me up and then swung around to pick up Samantha. Denise's dad drove a big Cadillac and all four of us sat in the back seat like we had a chauffeur.

"Thanks, Daddy," Denise said as we piled out of the car.

"Movie gets over at four o'clock," he said. "You go over to that diner and buy all your friends a malt after the movie. Here's twenty bucks. You treat your little white friends nice now. I'll pick you up at five-thirty." Her dad didn't say a word to any of the rest of us. Shit!

"Brian, may I hold your hand?"

"Yes, Samantha. May I put my arm around you?"