Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Trailer Park The Third Year

   Wizard

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- - - - - - - - - - Standard Disclaimer.  This is a work of fiction for
adults only.  If you are under the age of eighteen, please immediately do
what I would have done when I was your age.  Which is, delete this story
from your hard drive and/or leave this internet site.  I know you've left
now like the good little boys and girls you are.  But if you haven't or for
the rest of you, enjoy.

   - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - Author's Note: Special Thanks to Russell Hoisington,
who spent many long nights trying to figure out what I meant and separate
it from what I wrote.  I understand that he's compiling an English/Wizard
dictionary to help future generations translate my spelling.  Thanks also
to the Night Hawk for his comments and suggestions.

   - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - One Last Note: The Trailer Park started as a short
story, then took on a life of it's own.  This is the third year, I strongly
suggest that you read The Trailer Park, and the Trailer Park: The Second
Year before reading this.  I'm not big on recapping.  The Trailer Park: The
Fourth Year will follow, and eventually there will be six years.  Thanks
for all the comments I've received, hope you enjoy.

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- - - - - - - - - -



   Chapter 1

   They say a picture's worth a thousand words.

   * * *

   The picture shows an old farmhouse.  Probably from the twenties or
thirties.

   It is blue mostly, though in places where the paint is peeling, you can
see an old faded greenish color.  It is two stories with a large stone
fireplace on one end.  The roof is peaked, with two small attic windows.

   Five windows look out the from the second floor.  They're all open,
hoping to catch some of the summer breeze.  On the ground floor, a door
splits the house and opens into a railed porch that extends the length of
the house.  Two windows on each side.  Half a dozen chairs sit on the
porch, and a swing.  The porch swing is the only thing newly painted, so
white it almost shines.  A pair of boots sits by the door.

   Behind the house on one side is a large barn.  The barn was once a
traditional red, but has faded from wind and sun until its color is hard to
define.  The large doors of the barn are open, and inside, one goat wanders
while another lies, grateful for the shade.  In front, a dozen chickens
peck the ground.

   On the other side of the house is a overgrown pasture with
six-and-a-half cows grazing peacefully.  Further behind the cows, another
pasture where a mare and her foal gallop.  Fence posts lean this way and
that, no two seeming to point the same way, yet the fences that define the
two pastures stand.

   Above the house, a clear blue sky with a single white cloud shaped like
a rocket ship blasting off for far off places.  In front of the house, a
yard, mostly grass, thick, and in need of cutting, with a few bare patches
of hard-packed earth.  A walkway of large stones lead to the porch stairs.

   The debris of a family litter the yard.  A bike lying on its side.  A
tricycle missing a back wheel.  A pogo stick.  Pieces of plastic and metal
from a dozen toys.  A discarded t-shirt.

   An idyllic scene.

   But smoke leaks from the upstairs windows, turning the sky over the
house grey.  In the corner room, fire crawls up a curtain.  More flames can
be seen behind the glass in the other rooms.  Everywhere inside, the smoke
roils and boils.

   Downstairs, smoke pours from the windows and door.

   A teenaged boy is jumping from the top of the porch.  The picture
captures him in air just as a one foot leaves the porch, but before the
other can contact the ground.  He's wearing faded cut-offs and a green
football jersey, the number thirteen just barely visible.  He's handsome,
though his face is smudged by the soot of the smoke and his hair is wild.

   Clutched to his side, a young girl, six or seven, wearing only baggy
panties.  Held tightly in front of him, a boy of three or four in shorts.

   Barely in view, in the front corner of the picture, a teenaged girl,
wearing shorts and a t-shirt, on her hands and knees gasping for breath, a
baby held tightly to her chest.  Next to the girl, a woman sits crying,
looking at the house.

   * * *



   They say a picture's worth a thousand words.  That was only five hundred
and something.

   They say a picture tells a story.

   They say a picture tells the truth.

   This picture lies.

   Chapter 2



   I opened my eyes.

   They hurt, my eyeballs, stinging.

   I closed them again.

   `Where am I?' is such a cliche, but sometimes it fit the situation.

   Let's review.  I was in bed, but it wasn't my bed.  It didn't feel
right. Besides, the ceiling was green.  Puke green.  Who would paint their
ceiling puke green?  It was hard to concentrate.

   My shoulder itched.

   I decided that was more important than where I was.  I lifted my hand.
It felt funny and I couldn't wiggle my fingers.  I reached up to scratch my
shoulder...

   "Oh, God!" I moaned as pain shot through me.

   "Tony are you okay?" The voice of an angel.  Tami's voice.

   "Not sure.  What year is it?"

   "What year?"

   "Are you my wife?"

   "Tony, we're fourteen."

   "There are states where that is legal."

   "He's okay," said another voice.  I decided that it was my maternal
unit, code-named Mom.

   I decided to try opening my eyes again.

   I opened them just a little, and they still burned.  I closed them and
blinked hard, trying to liquefy them.  No, not liquify; moisten.  Why was
it so hard to think?

   I opened my eyes again.  They still stinged.  Stanged.  Stang.  Stung.
They stung, but not as much.  I kept them open.  Same puke green ceiling. I
looked around.  I was in a hospital room.  I should have known.  Only
hospitals and prisons use colors like that.  Mom was standing on one side
of my bed and Tami on the other.

   "What happened?"

   "Do you remember the fire?" Mom asked.

   The fire.  The fire!  "It was hot."

   "Those are some good drugs," Tami murmured, earning her a dark look from
Mom.

   Drugs!  No wonder my brain was fuzzy.  I don't even like taking aspirin.

   "You got some really bad burns on your hands, and your right shoulder.
You're in the hospital."

   Oh yeah.  I remembered burning my hands.  It hurt, but I didn't have
time to think about it then.  I lifted my hands up and looked at them. 
They were wrapped in gauze and tape.  No wonder I couldn't wiggle my
fingers.

   I didn't remember burning my shoulder, but I was pretty busy at the
time. Good thing it was my shoulder, not something important like my dick.
I just use my shoulder to...  I use my shoulder to throw!  Football! 
Baseball!  What if I couldn't play anymore?

   Tami smiled.  "You're thinking about sports aren't you?" she accused. 
"You're thinking about whether you can throw a stupid football."

   The mind reading thing again.  I was getting used to it.  "I was
thinking about baseball too."

   "Don't panic.  You can still be the star of the team.  The burns are
super...  superfac...  super-something."

   "Superficial," Mom supplied.  "They may hurt like hell, but there's no
serious damage."

   "That's good," I admitted.  "It may be silly, but I'd miss playing
football and baseball with..."

   "Robbie!  What happened to Robbie?"

   "She's okay," Mom said.  "She just swallowed a lot of smoke.  Her dad's
already taken her home."

   I couldn't believe I'd forgotten about Robbie.  Damn drugs.  Why would
anybody want to not be able to control their thinking.

   But then my brain kicked in.  Maybe I was getting used to the drugs, or
they were wearing off.

   Ever play Monopoly?  And I mean the original, not one of those Star Wars
or NBA variations.  I love it.  My favorite board game.  But I always get
the damned GET OUT OF JAIL FREE card late in the game.  Late in the game, I
don't want to get out of jail, free or otherwise.  I want to sit in jail
and let other people move and land on properties with houses and hotels. 
So my GET OUT OF JAIL FREE card always goes to waste.

   Right now I had a GET OUT OF JAIL FREE card and I wasn't going to waste
it.

   "Mommy, have you met my wife?" I said, slurring my words a little.

   Mom looked slightly annoyed.  She thought Tami and I were too young to
be in love.  "Yes, I know Tami."

   "She's going to have your grandbabies."

   Mom went white and Tami went red, and I had the drugs to blame.  Life
was good.

   "Do you want them now, or next year?" I asked, trying to look dazed.

   "I think you should wait awhile."

   "Okay, Mommy.  We'll wait until I graduate middle school."

   "You graduated, Tony.  In June," Tami explained.

   "Okay, we'll have them now.  Mommy explained all about how babies are
made, and it sounds like fun."

   I wouldn't have believed it, but Mom got whiter and Tami got redder, and
I still had a GET OUT OF JAIL FREE card.

   "I think I better tell the doctor that he's awake," Mom said before
beating a hasty retreat.

   "Anthony Marion Sims!" Tami said coldly as soon as the door closed. 
"Stop that!"

   "But I..."

   "And no, it isn't the damn drugs talking."

   "I'm sorry," I said automatically.  "I was just teasing her."

   "Do you have any idea just how worried she's been?"

   "I..." Now I was sorry.

   "You WILL behave or no more nookie for you.  No Robbie, No Mikee, No
Kelly."

   "No nookie?  For how long?"

   "The rest of July."

   Unless I'd lost a day, this was the second.  That was a long time.

   "No Robby?

   "No Robby!"

   "No Mikee?"

   "No Mikee!"

   "No Kelly?"

   "No Kelly!"

   "What about Tami?"

   "I'll let you lick my pussy," she whispered as the door started to open.
"After all, I'm not the one getting punished."

   Chapter 3



   The reporter showed up about three hours later.  Her name was Janet
Edwards, and she seemed nice, but she asked a ton of questions, most of
them several times.  The next day both the story and the picture were on
the front page.

   Local Hero

   For those of you who think there is no hope for the younger generation,
meet fourteen-year-old Tony Sims.

   Tony the quarterback led his middle school football team to their best
season in ten years.  Tony the shortstop led his baseball team to their
best season ever.

   Not your typical dumb jock, Tony gets `A's and `B's in school and sings
in local shows.

   Tony is also a hero.  Yesterday, Tony charged into a burning house to
rescue Jessica Miller and her three children, Adriana (7), Carl (3) and
namesake Tony (3 months).

   Tony suffered several burns and smoke inhalation and is resting
comfortable at City hospital and is expected to be released tomorrow.

   The Millers were all treated for smoke inhalation and released.  They
are staying with relatives.

   The picture was taken by Dana Bradley, wife of volunteer Darren Bradley,
who was riding with him when he was called to the scene.

   The fire is believed to have started from a short in a power cord that
caught a drapery on fire.

   Also on the scene were Tony's friends Roberta Tait (14), who helped Tony
in the rescue, and Tami Sharp (14), who went for help.

   Tony...



   "Oh, fuck!"

   "Tony!  Your language," Mom chided as she gathered my stuff and I sat in
the wheelchair reading the paper.

   "Mom, did you read this?"

   "Of course I did.  It was a very nice article.  There's one in the
Seattle paper, too, but they cut it down a lot."

   "Mom, they did everything but give away my secret identity as
mild-mannered reporter Clark Kent."

   "Oh, it's not that bad."

   "They made it sound like Robbie sat on the sidelines, waved her
pom-poms, and yelled, `Go, Tony, go!' She's the one who got Mrs.  Miller
out.  And the baby."

   "It's not that important."

   "Really?  How many copies of the paper did you buy?"

   Mom pretended not to hear.

   "They didn't even spell her name right.  And they called her Roberta."

   "That's her name," Mom said as she set my stuff in my lap and started
pushing me out.

   Wheelchairs are cool if you want to have races, or pop wheelies.  They
are not cool when you're being pushed down the hall by your mother and
could walk just fine.

   "It's not fair."

   I swore if she said life isn't fair, I wouldn't talk to her all the way
home.

   She did and I didn't.

   Chapter 4



   "But Mom!"

   "You just got out of the hospital."

   "I'm fine."

   "Anthony Michael Sims!"

   "It's Marion." For a second, I thought I'd be going back to the hospital
with assorted bruises and broken bones.

   "Anthony Marion Sims, you just got out of the hospital.  You are not
riding your bike to Robbie's house, and that is that."

   "Fine.  I'm not riding my bike to Robbie's house.  I'm going to Tami's.
Is that okay, or do you want to call me an ambulance for the trip.

   Mom threw up her hands, turned her back on me and stomped off to the
kitchen.  I knew she was just being a good mom, but I didn't need babying.
I needed to see Robbie.

   * * *



   "Tony, you're back, and you're okay!" Tami's mom said as she threw her
arms around me.

   I hugged her back.  It's nice to be wanted.  "I just stopped by to
kidnap your daughter."

   "Again?" she said with a laugh.

   I shrugged.

   "I should just let you marry her and save wear and tear on all of us."

   "Two-and-a-half years, if we can get Mom and Dad to agree.  One and a
half-with-a-family court judge."

   "And you know this how?"

   "Learning," I said with a grin.  "I'm always learning."

   "And what states let you marry at sixteen?" she asked suspiciously.

   "None.  Isn't that disgusting?  There were several in the seventies, but
now all the states are eighteen without consent.  Even Arkansas, if you can
believe it.  Though in Alabama and Massachusetts, we can get married now if
you and Mom and Dad all agree.  Up for a road trip?"

   "Tami is not getting married till she graduates high school, and she's
only marrying a high school grad.  Let me know when you're ready."

   I grinned, just to make her nervous.  "After March, we could get married
in Iran without consent."

   She laughed.  "I'll make sure to hide her passport."

   * * *



   "Where are we going?" Tami asked after I'd sprung her from her mother.

   "Paul's house." Paul lived in the trailer court.  He was a month older
than me.  We weren't exactly friends, but we got along.

   "Why are we going to Paul's house?"

   "I need to borrow a bike."

   Tami looked completely confused.  "What about your bike?"

   "I promised my mother I wouldn't ride my bike to Robbie's house."

   "But..."

   "You don't expect me to walk, do you?"

   Tami made the connection.  "Anthony Sims!" she said, sounding a lot like
my mother.

   "Tamarone Elizabeth Sharp, we're not married yet.  Don't use THAT tone
on me."

   "What tone?"

   "The tone where you sound like my mother."

   "And what makes you think I'd ever marry you?"

   I stopped and pulled her into a long hot kiss.  "If that didn't send me
back to the hospital, a little bike ride isn't going to bother me,"

   "But your mom?  Can't you wait?"

   "Did you see the paper today?"

   Tami nodded.  "Mom showed it to me."

   "I don't think I can wait."

   * * *



   Paul had no problem with loaning me his bike, especially after Tami gave
him a big smile.  Robbie lived a half mile away, about fives minutes on our
bikes.

   We parked and I knocked on the door.

   "Tony!  You're back," Robbie's dad said, as he opened the door.

   "Hi, is Robbie here?"

   "She's in her room.  She'll be glad to see you.  We were worried."

   "Just a lot of smoke and some burns." I held my hands out.  They were
bandaged heavily, but not mummy-wrapped like yesterday.  They hurt a little
from gripping the bike's handlebars, but not too bad.

   "That was a brave thing you did."

   "No, it was a brave thing Robbie did.  I just..." I couldn't bring
myself to say more.

   "She's in her room.  Go on up."

   I think he was relieved to see Tami with me.  He'd accepted that Robbie
and I had sex, but he probably didn't enjoy listening to creaking bed
springs from his fourteen-year-old's room.  He figured with Tami along, he
wouldn't have to.  Of course, Robbie still owed me a threesome.

   We climbed the stairs and stood outside Robbie's door.  Loud Latin music
came through the door.

   I knocked.  Nothing.

   Tami knocked a little louder.  Nothing.

   I pounded.

   "Come," I barely heard over the music.

   I opened the door.  Robbie was dancing to the pounding beat.  She looked
up, saw us, and launched herself at me.  "Tony, you're okay." Actually I've
had tackles in football games that didn't hit that hard, but I nodded.  She
kissed me hard and long, then abruptly let go.

   She hugged Tami, but without the kiss.  "You really shouldn't let him
out without a leash."

   "I could wait outside if you..."

   Robbie grinned.  "I'm good, but thanks for offering."

   While sex with Robbie was always fun, it would be nice if I was
consulted.

   Tami and I sat on the bed while Robbie pulled out her desk chair after
turning down the music.

   "Latin?" Tami asked.

   "I was in the mood for something different.  Tony what's wrong?"

   I'd been thinking about how to bring up the newspaper, and I guess it
showed on my face.

   "I...  did you see the paper?"

   "Oh, that." Then she laughed.  "Tony, you were worried?"

   "Well, it looked like I..."

   "Tony, when you talked to the reporters, did you take all the credit?"

   "Of course not.  I told them that you got Mrs.  Miller and the baby."

   "And they printed what they wanted."

   "But..."

   "Tony, Tony, Tony," Robbie said as she got up then plopped herself
sideways on my lap.  "Don't worry.  Tami and I will take care of you."

   "But..."

   "You're a John Wayne fan, right?"

   "Well, Dad is, so I've seen them all."

   "You've seen The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance?"

   "A dozen times."

   "What's the tag line?"

   "Something like, `When the legend meets the facts, print the legend.'"

   "Ya think newspapers have changed since then?"

   "But, I felt bad that..."

   "Tell ya what.  Buy me a hot fudge sundae, and we'll call it even."

   "Deal."

   I felt better just talking about it.  Robbie kissed me on the cheek and
moved back to the chair.

   "I've been thinking."

   "Call the fire department," Tami said in mock horror.

   "I thought I smelled smoke," Robbie added.

   And Rodney Dangerfield thinks he gets no respect.

   "Look, we hurt his feelings," Robbie said.

   "I suppose we could make it up to him," Tami added seductively.

   I looked at Tami, then Robbie, then back at Tami.

   Robbie laughed, hard, then couldn't stop.

   Tami and I looked at each other, both with raised eyebrows.  "What?" we
said in stereo.

   It took several seconds for Robbie to get back under control.  "I was
thinking about the old story about the jackass who starved to death.

   "The one who was standing in the middle between two haystacks and
couldn't decide which looked more delicious," Tami finished.  Robbie
nodded. Tami looked at me and started laughing, then Robbie joined in
again.

   Me, I sat and pouted.

   They didn't understand.  It was more than just delicious kisses.  I
liked kissing both girls.  It was two very different experiences.  But I
had to balance feelings, too.  It wasn't just two haystacks.  It was two
haystacks with me on a tightrope between them and jagged rocks below.

   Their laughter finally petered out, with Robbie holding her side.  Then
she looked at me and started again.  And that got Tami going.

   I sighed, loudly.

   "Look, we hurt his feelings again," Tami gasped.

   "Awwww."

   Then they both leaned in and kissed me on the cheeks.  I suppose it was
better than nothing.

   "What were you thinking about?" Tami asked after they both got back
under control.

   "Nothing."

   "Come on.  A Tony thought is a rare and precious thing.  Don't waste
it." Robbie made me feel very simple sometimes, but she had her
compensations.

   "Well..."

   "Tell us," Tami demanded.

   "Tomorrow's the fourth.  I was thinking to celebrate..."

   "Yes?" Robbie prodded, suspiciously.

   "Well, you two and the girls all on the same bed would make some great
fireworks." They both knew that when I said the girls, I meant Mikee and
Kelly.

   "You know, he's right." Robbie said quickly.

   "He is?"

   "Great fireworks!  Then later we could meet Tony and watch the big show
at the park."

   "Hey, I meant..."

   "Sounds like fun," Tami interrupted.

   I pouted again.

   Suddenly I was on my back on the bed and Robbie was sitting on my chest.
"Sport, you can barely handle me.  Four of us would kill you."

   Before I could defend my prowess, there was a knock at the door.

   "Come in!" Robbie yelled from her perch on my chest.

   Her dad opened the door, took in the scene and shook his head.  "Tony,
your mom's on the phone.  She didn't sound happy."

   I wasn't sure if it was a case of out of the frying pan, into the fire,
or saved by the bell.

   Chapter 5



   "Tony, you have a phone call," Mom said from my doorway.

   I pulled the pillow over head and mumbled something about midnight.

   "It's not midnight, it's a little after eight.  Besides, you were still
up at midnight.  Do you want me to tell Tami to call back later?"

   The part of that sentence that registered right away was Tami.  The rest
took longer to process.  "I'll take it," I said, uncovering my head and
reaching for the phone.

   Mom stepped into the room, handed it to me, then left, closing the door.


   I could tell that Mom wasn't mad at me anymore.  I didn't know if it was
my status as a hero, my status as just released from the hospital, or just
because Mom didn't hold onto her mads.

   I was just glad she wasn't.  I was one of those misfit teenagers who
actually liked his parents.

   When I'd gotten back from Robbie's yesterday, I dropped off Paul's bike,
then headed home for the inquisition.  One look at Mom's face and I knew
better than to argue that I hadn't ridden my bike to Robbie's.  I listened
as she read me the riot act, said only that it was important in my defense,
and went to my room.  She just glared at me the rest of the night.

   "Do you have any idea what time it is?" I said when I answered the
phone.

   "Don't know.  Don't care," came the voice of the girl I loved.

   "It's eight."

   "Don't know.  Don't care.  Do know that Mom had to go to work until this
afternoon.  And I'm in bed, and I'm lonely."

   The last six words worked better than a bucket of ice water.  "Five," I
said and hung up.

   I leaped out of bed, pulled on some clothes and was out the front door
in less than a minute-and-a-half.  I let myself in Tami's house.  The door
was locked, but I knew where they hid the spare key.

   I opened Tami's door and looked in at her, less than three minutes after
I hung up the phone.  She was lying naked on the bed, partially on her
side, one knee up in the air and the other lying on the bed.

   "It's the fourth of Ju-why, my mommy left me, and I have no won to
sell-a-brate wiff," she said in a little girl voice.

   "What did you have in mind?" I asked, sounding like a melodrama villain.

   "I wanted to call Robbie, Mikee, and Kelly and have fireworks.  But it's
too early.

   I didn't resent for a micro-second that it wasn't too early to call me.

   "Maybe I can help," I offered.  "If Robbie was here, what would she do?"

   "She'd wick my wittle titties."

   "Maybe I can wick, I mean lick your titties for you?"

   "It won't be as good, but you can try."

   As I stepped over to her and knelt next to the bed, I wondered if she'd
given this much thought, or if she was making it up as she went along.  I
admit that the thought of Robbie and Tami in bed together had crossed my
mind a few times.

   I started planting little kisses around her breasts.  They hadn't grown
much in the year-and-a-half I'd known her, but they had grown.  About the
size and shape of the top third of a softball.  The aureolas bigger than a
quarter but smaller than a half dollar.  I put my lips around the aureola
of her lower breast and slowly closed them until her nipple was trapped. 
Then I teased the tip with my tongue.

   "Oh god, you're torturing me," she moaned.

   I released her nipple, gave her nose a quick kiss and went to work on
the other breast.

   "What would Robbie do next?" I asked after a couple of minutes.

   "Oh god!" She'd...  she'd...  she'd quiss her way down to my widdle
cunny."

   "Your wish..." I got off my knees and rolled her onto her back.  I then
took my position at the end of her bed, stripped, and crawled up between
her legs.  I leaned forward and sucked her tits again, then started kissing
my way downward to her belly button, her pelvis, the top of her slit.  "And
what would Mikee and Kelly be doing while Robby did this?"

   "They be sucking my titties."

   "You've got this all worked out," I said then ran just the tip of my
tongue down the length of her split."

   "Oh god, oh fuck," she murmured.

   "Robbie said that four girls would kill me.  I think three would do you
in."

   "Would you shut up and fuck me?"

   "Your wish," I repeated.  My cock was more than ready.  I reared up on
my knees, then fell forward onto my hands.  My cock seemed to know the way
as it settled on her puffy lips.  She was wet and ready, and I pushed
forward, entering her.  Now this is a grrrreatttt way to start the day.  No
offense to Tony the Tiger and his Frosted Flakes.

   In California, in my old house, my room was right above my parents and I
could tell when they were having sex.  It was hard to think fucked and
parents in the same sentence.  About once a week, they'd start the day with
a good fu...  I mean with sex.  Why they didn't the other six days, I'll
never understand.

   Tami arched her back, thrusting her hips toward me as I drove my cock
deep into her.  It took only a few seconds before I felt my release
building, and I knew from her breathing that Tami was on the edge too.  I
drove forward, hard and deep and felt my cock spasm and fill her with spurt
after spurt of my cream, Tami grabbed me tightly and held on as her own
orgasm wracked her.

   I rolled us onto our sides and just looked at her.  She was so
beautiful, especially just after sex, when she looked almost cat-like in
her satisfaction.  I could stay like this forever.

   "I've got to go," she announced frantically, pulling her pussy off my
shrinking little worm.

   "Oh god, me too," I realized as soon as she'd said it.  I could feel my
bladder announcing itself.  It didn't like being ignored, especially in the
mornings.

   "Use Mom's," she said as she practically leaped from the bed and rushed
to her bathroom.

   It felt weird being in Mrs.  Sharp's bathroom, surrounded by her make-up
and other things, but the relief of emptying my bladder was almost as good
as the orgasm a minute ago.

   * * *



   "Hi, Tony," Kelly said as I walked in the door.

   "Hi, Stud," Tami echoed.

   "Hi, Ladies," I said as I closed the door behind me.  The afternoon had
gotten hot and I wanted to keep the heat out and the air conditioning in.

   The two girls were kneeling by the coffee table in Tami's living room,
coloring.  Actually, it was more than coloring.  Though they were using
crayons, they were artists.  At least, when Tami drew something it was
obvious what she was drawing.  Kelly was the artist, though she had a
fuzzy, almost impressionistic style.  Me, I'm lucky if I can draw a stick
figure.

   I watched them, fascinated.  I wished I could draw, or even color like
that.

   "Where's Mikee?"

   "Don't know.  Don't care," Kelly said in a pouty voice.  I wondered what
had gotten into her.  The two sisters were usually pretty close.

   "Tony, there's some fireworks on my bed," Tami said without looking up
from her picture.  "Would you get them for me?"

   I nodded, though she couldn't see, and headed back to her bedroom.  I
opened the door, and there was Mikee, naked and in exactly the same
position that Tami had greeted me in that morning.

   "Oh, fuck!" I said as my cock sprang to life.

   Mikee giggled.  "Tony, your language."

   I grinned.  "I used it properly.  It's a verb, and it's what I'm about
to do." I stepped in the room, dropped my shorts, and closed the door in
one smooth motion.

   "Mikee, you're going to be an eighth grader now, and I think you're old
enough to know that guys only want one thing from a girl."

   "What's that?"

   "This." I stepped to the bed and rolled over her, pulling her on top of
me and pushing my raging cock into her.  I hadn't realized how horny I was
until her pussy sucked me in.  I mean, I'd fucked Tami three times this
morning before I'd had to go home.  "Now I know why Kelly was being pouty."

   "She wanted to be first," Mikee agreed.

   "She always does."

   "Well, she's going into middle school now, so she's not always going to
get her way."

   Damn, Kelly was growing up.  She was going to be a sixth grader, I
thought as my cock glided in and out of her sister.  I was going to have to
start wearing a rubber with her too, I probably already should have.  That
was when I realized my naked cock was fucking her sister.  I pulled out and
rolled her off me.

   "What the fuc...  hell?"

   "I forgot," I explained as I rolled out of bed.  I got a rubber out of
my wallet in my shorts and put in on.  "You shouldn't let me do that."

   "I...  I didn't care."

   "You'd care if you had to start breast feeding your baby in the middle
of math class."

   Mikee grinned.  "The boys would like that."

   "Your mom wouldn't," I said and her face fell.  She nodded.

   I climbed back into bed, and slid back into her.

   "You don't wear one of those with Tami," she accused.

   I wondered how she knew that, since I'd never fucked Tami in front of
her or her sister.  I guessed that she and Tami talked about it.

   "Tami uses a birth control patch."

   "You don't use one with my sister," she accused.  "She doesn't have no
patch."

   "She was too young to worry about it, but I should have started using
one a while ago.  From now on, I will."

   That seemed to satisfy her.  Then her orgasm started and that satisfied
her more.  She rolled off, grabbing my proud little flagpole and jacking it
several times.  I grabbed her hand to stop her.

   "Mikee, when you and Luke...  I mean you and a boy do...  I mean when
you have sex, do you always use a..."

   Mikee giggled.  "I haven't done it with anyone but you.  I've given Luke
a blowjob though."

   I'd wondered, but didn't want to ask.  My best friend Luke had gone out
with Allie Smidt for a week or so, but for the last three weeks, had been
going with Mikee.  We'd even doubled to the movies a few times.

   "I wasn't asking that.  I just...  just wanted to make sure you're
safe."

   "I'll be careful," she promised.

   "Some guys will tell you they don't need one.  That they're safe."

   "I won't believe them," she said firmly.  "Would Luke...?"

   "I don't think so, but when we guys get horny, you can't trust us."

   "Speaking of not trusting, you want me to send my sister in?"

   There's no politically correct way to answer that, so I just nodded. 
And tried not to look too eager.

   * * *



   "Get a hit, big boy, and I'll do things to you you've only read about,"
Robbie whispered in my ear.

   Robbie had a very subtle way of motivating me, and I wondered if I could
swing the bat with a major hard-on.

   The game had originally been scheduled for the second.  But since the
Sizzler's team and our team were both undefeated, they decided to make a
big deal out of it and have us play today.  In fact, if they hadn't
rescheduled the game, Tami, Robbie, and I wouldn't have been walking around
and seen the fire at the Miller place.

   The Babe Ruth field was next to the city park, so our game drew the
biggest crowd we'd had all year, especially when we went into the tenth
inning.  We usually only play seven, but the teams were evenly matched, and
whenever we'd score, they'd score.

   Half the town seemed to be in the bleachers or standing by the fences as
I stepped up to bat.  There were lots of places to barbeque in the park,
and the park was where the big fireworks display was going to be, and as
the game went on, people just seemed to gravitate toward it.

   Two outs.  Runners on second and third.  And Sims steps up to the plate.
Thinking, unfortunately about Charlie Brown and his hero or goat time.

   I stepped up to the plate.  The pitcher was a kid named Danny that I
tried out against for the varsity.  He'd gotten cut before I did, which had
to burn a little.  I'd been up against him four times already this game and
managed to get a hit every time, but nothing solid.

   So far, he'd burned me on the first pitch every time, throwing a fast
ball right down the middle.  I was sure he wouldn't do it again.  He
checked the runners and started his windup.  I focused on his wrist and
thought I saw the telltale snap of a curve ball.  The pitch was coming
straight down the middle and I waited, holding back the bat for it to curve
away.  It didn't.  Smack right in the catcher's glove.  I didn't need the
umpire to tell me that was strike one.

   Now I was mad.  There was no way this turkey was going to strike me out.
He checked the runners, I took my hand off the bat and held it up to the
umpire.  Danny looked back and started his windup just as the ump called
"Time!"

   I stepped out of the batter's box and took a couple of swings.  Nothing
like keeping the pitcher off-balance.

   I stepped back into the box.  He was going to try to blow another fast
ball by me, I knew it.  He checked the runners and went into his windup.  I
tensed, lifting the bat a little higher.  The pitch, coming right down the
middle, I started my swing just as the ball started to break away.  Damn!

   I corrected my swing and caught a piece of it.  I hoped it would go
foul, but it one-hopped to the third baseman.  The runners on second and
third held while he checked them, then fired to first.  To me, the ball
arrived at the same split second my foot stepped on the front edge of the
bag.  The umpire must have seen the same thing, because he was yelling,
"Safe!  Safe!"

   The first baseman took the throw and came up ready to fire home, but the
runners stayed.

   Bases loaded.  Two outs, and at the plate, second baseman Robbie Tate.

   Robbie had bunted her first time up and walked the next three.

   "Hey Danny-boy!" I yelled.  "Ya gonna walk her again?  I can see where
you'd be afraid to throw to a girl."

   Danny stepped off the pitcher's rubber and glared at me.  I stood on
first and smiled back.

   "Maybe he thinks he can get a date?" Jimmy Sexton, the runner on second
called.

   "Nah, she's going out with Ricky Calloway.  He was varsity, you know."

   "Just because his dad was the coach," Danny yelled.

   "Nope.  Because he was good," Robbie yelled, getting into the spirit of
things.

   For about three minutes we all yelled insults back and forth.  I looked
up into the bleachers and waved.  Tami and her mom were sitting there with
Robbie's dad and my family.  We were all barbequing together if we ever got
this game finished.

   The umpire took off his face mask and stepped over the plate.  "Enough.
Let's play some ball." Danny gave me a last glare and stepped back onto the
mound.  I took a last look around.  I saw Mikee and Kelly pressed up
against the fence by the third baseline, their parents, brothers, and
surprisingly, Alana, behind them.  Sitting in the Sizzler dugout with a
stats book was Allie Smidt, the traitor.

   Danny started his windup and threw a hard fast one right down the pipe.
Robbie's bat came around and connected with a very satisfying smack.  I
took off.  So did Jimmy on second and Ray on third.  That's the great thing
about a hit with two down, you don't have to watch for the catch, you just
put your head down and run.

   I rounded second with Jimmy still a step or two away from third.  I
could see Mr.  Atkins, the coach, on third waving him hard, so I kept
going. Jimmy rounded third and headed home.  He was halfway there when I
hit third.  The coach wasn't waving me, but he wasn't stopping me either,
so I glanced over my shoulder.  The center fielder had the ball.  It most
have rolled all the way to the fence.  He was about to fire it to the
second baseman.

   I decided what the hell, hero or goat, and kept going, hard.  Jimmy
crossed the plate and held up.  I could tell by the catcher's body that the
throw was coming in.  I had a fraction of a second to decide.  I could go
back, but hell, retreat's a dirty word.  I leaped forward and dove toward
the pentagonal piece of rubber the catcher guarded.

   The throw was high, but the catcher, Billy Garwood snatched it easily
and snapped it down on my arm.

   I felt his glove slap against me just before my hand slide across the
plate.  Fuck!

   "Safe!" I never argue with an umpire.  He's got a better view than I
have and is paid to make these decisions.

   Billy flipped the ball to Danny who was running toward the plate. 
"Safe? What do you mean safe.  He was out by a fucking mile."

   "Danny!" the catcher yelled.  "Second base!"

   Danny spun and saw Robbie rounding second.  He fired the ball but she
was already halfway to third.  The ball was high and bounced off the top of
the shortstop's glove as Robbie rounded third and slowed to a jog for the
ninety feet home.  She stepped on the plate and curtsied to Danny, then to
the crowd.

   "He was out.  Those runs don't score."

   "He was safe and you're gone."

   "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Danny yelled.  "Giving them
the game?"

   "Coach, get you're butt out here," the umpire yelled.

   The Sizzler's coach, Mr.  Branaugh ran out.

   "Get this punk off my field." The coach grabbed Danny and started
pulling him toward the dugout.  "You ever put him on my baseball field
again, you'd better have taught him some manners." The umpire turned to the
scorekeeper behind the backstop.  "Four runs," he said, holding up four
fingers.

   It took a few minutes to get everything settled down and a new pitcher
warmed up.  Then Bobby drake stepped up, popped up the first pitch for an
easy catch by the third baseman.

   Bottom of ten, and we're up by four.  Life is good.

   It's amazing how quickly life is good, can turn to life stinks. 
Patrick, our ace pitcher, walked the first batter, then tried to pick him
off and threw the ball away to let him get to two.  Then he walked another
one.

   On the next pitch, the runner on second stole third and a bad throw by
Donny, our catcher, let him go home while the runner on first made it to
second.  And we had a three run lead with no outs and a runner on second.

   Patrick walked two more to load the bases.

   Our coach called time and moved Patrick to center field and brought Jake
Fraser in to pitch.  Jake warmed up, then walked a batter.

   Two run lead, nobody out and the bases loaded.

   The runner on second was taking a big lead and Donny decided to gun him.
He gave me the sign and I nodded, almost imperceptibly.  Jake threw a
pitch, high and outside, Donny popped up, took the pitch and fired it
straight to me.  Straight to me if I'd been eight feet tall.  The ball flew
over my head.  The runners on second and third took off.  The ball bounced
once before Patrick snagged it and fired it right at my chest.  I took the
throw, spun, and everybody was safely on a base.  The runner from second
was on third and the runner from third had scored.

   One run lead, nobody out, and runners on the corners.

   Like I said, it's amazing how quickly life is good, can turn to life
stinks.

   I called time and went out to talk to Jake.  Robbie came with me.

   "Okay, Jake, listen carefully.  A wife comes home early and finds her
husband in their bedroom making love to a beautiful young girl.  `You pig!'
she yells, `I want a divorce!' The husband tries to calm her.  `Before you
leave, give me a chance to explain,' he begs.  `Make it fast,' she
replies."

   I looked around and saw everybody was watching as we discussed strategy.
"The husband tells his story.  `I was driving home and this girl asked for
a ride.  I noticed she was very thin and dirty and she said she hadn't
eaten for three days, so I brought her home.  First I warmed up the lasagne
I made for you, that you didn't eat because you thought you'd get fat. 
Since she was so dirty, I suggested she take a shower and while she was
showering, I saw how dirty and full of holes her clothes were.  So I threw
her clothes away.  Since she needed clothes, I gave her that pair of jeans
you don't wear because you say they make your butt look fat.  Then I gave
her the blouse I gave you for Christmas that you don't wear because you say
I have horrible taste.  I gave her the sweater that my sister gave you that
you don't wear just to spite her and those expensive boots you bought that
you don't wear because Mildred has a pair just like them.'

   "The husband looked at his wife.  `The young girl was very grateful, and
as she was getting ready to leave, she asked, "Sir, is there anything else
your wife doesn't use?" ' "

   Jake laughed.  "Okay I'm ready."

   I looked at Robbie.  She looked back with the same expression you'd use
with a senile grandparent.

   "When Jake gets tight, I tell him a joke to loosen him up."

   "In that case, try this one," she said with a grin.  "A man goes to the
zoo with his little boy.  When they get to the elephants, the little boy
points and asks, `What's that?' `That's an elephant,' the man tell him. 
`No, on the elephant,' the boy explains.  `That's the elephant's trunk,'
his father tells him.  `No, behind that,' the little boy persists.  `That's
the elephant's tail,' his father says.  `No, in between,' the little boy
continues.  `That's just something,' his father says, embarrassed. 
Confused, the little boy says, `But last week, when I was here with Mom,
she said it was nothing.'

   Robbie grinned at us.  "The father shrugs and says,`Well son, your mamma
is spoiled!' "

   "Oh, God," Jake says laughing.  "That was too good."

   Robbie grinned again.  "Strike this guy out, and I'll let you feel up my
tit."

   Jake turned red.  "What about Ricky?" Robbie and Ricky had been going
out for about a month.

   "Well, if you'd rather feel his tit, that can be arranged."

   Jake turned redder.  "I meant..."

   "She knows what you meant.  Just throw some strikes."

   Robbie and I trotted back to our positions.

   Jake looked back at Robbie, then took his position on the mound.  He
checked the runners on first and third, then put a strike right down the
middle.  Donny threw the ball back.

   Jake checked the runners, then threw another pitch.  The batter swung
and missed as the ball curved outside.

   Jake looked at Robbie and grinned.  He checked the runners, reared back,
and fired.  The runners took off, heading for second and home, the pitch
was on the low outside corner, the batter swung, caught a piece of the
ball, and it went back and off Donny's elbow.

   "Foul ball!" the umpire yelled as Donny went down, holding his elbow.

   Everything stopped, then the whole team was heading for the plate to
check on Donny, until the coach sent us back so he and the umpire could
check Donny out.  Robbie and I hung out at the pitcher's mound with Jake.

   Jake was shaken up since it was his pitch the kid had fouled back, so
Robbie and I told him some more dirty jokes to keep him loose.  After a few
minutes, the coach joined us.

   "Jake took a good shot to the elbow.  His mom's going to run him to the
hospital for an x-ray to make sure everything's okay." The coach, Mr. 
Daley, looked at me.

   "Coach, could I make a suggestion?"

   "What?" he asked, in a not too friendly tone.  He and I had butted heads
a little.  I think he was sensitive because this was his first year
coaching in Babe Ruth, and everybody knew I was the real coach of the
middle school team and how we'd almost gone undefeated.

   "You're probably thinking about putting me into catch?"

   He nodded.  I was usually the backup catcher.

   "These guys know me, and know I can throw them out.  They'll play it
safe." The coach nodded again.  "Put Robbie into catch."

   He looked at Robbie, who looked as surprised as he did, then back at me.
He'd been a little reluctant to have a girl on his team till he saw what
she could do.  "Why?"

   "She's a girl.  They'll try to run on her, and she'll gun them."

   "Have you ever caught before?" the coach asked her.

   Robbie shook her head, looking, for once, a little intimidated.  "Just
pitching practice."

   "I don't know."

   "Look, we're in a world of hurt.  We're only up by one.  The tying run's
on third and the winning run's on first, with no outs.  If Robbie blows it,
it's my fault.  If we pull it out, you're the coach who won."

   Mr.  Daley nodded.  "Put the gear on," he told her.

   Robbie and I walked over to the pile of catcher's equipment.  I think
everybody was expecting me to start putting it on, and there was a second's
hush as Robbie started strapping on the first shin guard.  "What the hell
have you gotten me into?"

   I grinned and outlined what I wanted her to do.

   "Are you sure about this?"

   "Who's your coach?"

   Robbie hesitated.  "You are."

   "Can she take a few pitches to warm up?" I yelled to the umpire who was
talking to Mr.  Branaugh.  He nodded.

   I walked out to the mound and talked to Jake, then over to second and
told Mike, who came off the bench to replace Robbie, what to do.

   Jake pitched a fast ball down the middle.  Robbie pushed the unfamiliar
catcher's glove at it.  It hit and popped out.  On our side of the field, a
few fans groaned.  Robbie picked up the ball and threw a high lob to Jake.
He caught it and looked at me.  I smiled and indicated for him to do it
again.

   Another pitch.  Another catch, and again it popped out of her glove. 
Another lob throw to Jake.

   "It's okay Robbie.  Just relax," I yelled.

   Jake threw three more pitches and all of them popped out of Robbie's
glove.

   "Play ball!" the umpire yelled.

   "Can't she have a couple more?  She's never caught before." I yelled,
but he shook his head.

   Jake looked at me and shrugged.  I punched my glove a couple of times.
"C'mon guys, we can do this," I yelled, trying to pump up the team.

   Jake stepped onto the mound.  He checked the runners.  The runner on
first had a big lead, but he ignored him.  Jake started his windup, and the
runner on first took off.  Jake fired, about three feet off the side. 
Robbie popped up, took the throw and fired it at me.  The ball was like a
bullet straight and hard.  I took the throw, swept my glove down; then
without waiting for the call I transferred the ball to my other hand and
fired it back to Robbie.  Robbie caught the ball and dove at the runner
sliding home.

   When the dust cleared, Robbie was sitting on the kids legs several
inches from the plate, the ball in her glove and the glove on his chest.

   "Out at second!  Out at home!" The ump yelled, almost as excited as the
fans who were going nuts.

   Two out, nobody on, and we were still up by one.  We were back in the
ball game big time.

   The double play seemed to take the wind out of Sizzler's sails.  The
batter stepped back to the plate, hit a one hopper to Mike at second, and
he made an easy throw for the out at first.  Outback won the game.  We won!

   I ran out and hugged Robbie.  I've hugged a few catchers, but this one
was more fun.  Jake hugged her, too, and felt up her tit.

   "You should be in drama club," Robbie said as I hugged her again.

   "You and me both," I agreed.

   * * *



   It was almost seven before my dad and Robbie's dad got the coals going
for the barbeque.  I nibbled some chips and deviled eggs since I knew the
steaks and burgers were going to be awhile.  Tami and Robbie were laughing
about something on the other side of our picnic area, but I decided I was
better off not knowing.

   I sat on the bench and leaned back against the picnic table.  I closed
my eyes and enjoyed the gentle breeze that was cooling off the day.  The
temperature had never quite topped a hundred, but had hovered at
ninety-nine most of the afternoon.

   Something kicked my foot and I open my eyes.

   "C'mon, let's take a walk," Robbie said, towering above me.

   I grinned and nodded.  "I'll get Tami."

   "She's going to stay here.  We're going solo."

   I shrugged, stood, and took her hand.  "Where to, milady?"

   "Um, thataway," she said sweeping her other arm to include about twenty
acres of woods that bounded the park.

   "Thataway it is," I agreed.

   We walked into the forest.

   "This looks like a good spot," Robbie said a few minutes later.

   "Huh?" I'd been watching a squirrel scamper up a tree.  It scampered in
a counter clockwise circle.  I was trying to remember if I'd ever seen a
squirrel scamper clockwise.  What?"

   "I said this looks like a good spot."

   "For what?"

   "Earth to Tony," she said, rapping her knuckles on my forehead.  "You're
horny, I'm horny."

   "I'm not horny," I complained before realizing that Big Tony was at full
attention.  I guess it knew something I didn't.

   "Of course you're not," she agreed, as her hand cupped Big Tony through
my shorts.

   "I..."

   "I told you I was gonna do things to you."

   "That I'd only read about," I finished.  "Robbie, your dad is only a
couple hundred yards away."

   "So.  We've done it when he was just downstairs."

   "Okay, how about my Mom is just a couple hundred yards away.  And she
won't be nearly so understanding."

   "I can see where that might be a problem," she agreed as she pushed my
shorts down and Big Tony made his appearance.

   "This is not a good idea," I said as her shorts fell around her ankles.

   "Very true." she agreed as she guided big Tony toward her pussy.

   "There's a hundred people running around the park."

   "Hundreds." She pulled me onto her, My hand naturally navigated it's way
inside her shirt, and under her sports bra.

   "What about Ricky?" I asked as I pushed her back against a tree.

   "I thought you only wanted a threesome with Tami."

   "I don't...  I wouldn't..." I took a breath and rammed my cock deep
within her.  "I'm not big on sharing."

   "Tony, shut up and fuck me."

   * * *



   I stood watching the fireworks display.  They'd choreographed it to a
music broadcast on the local radio station.  I had my arms around both Tami
and Robbie.  A big one exploded in a shower of blue and multiplied into a
dozen smaller red explosions.

   It had been a hell of a Fourth of July.  I decided that Robbie was
right. All four girls on one bed at one time would have killed me.

   But I sure wasn't going to tell her that.

   Chapter 6



   "Have you seen it?"

   "Tami?"

   "Have you seen it?"

   "Tami, It's nine o'clock in the morning.  I was up until three playing
Monopoly with you, Robbie, Ricky, and Traci.  The only thing I've seen is
the inside of my eyelids.  Oh, and what is it, I haven't seen?"

   "People."

   "People?  The magazine?"

   "Duh."

   "Tami, the last time I read People was in March or something.  They had
Lindsey Lohan on the cover."

   "You and your redheads."

   "What can I say?"

   "I think you should read it."

   "Okay.  Ricky's still asleep on the coach.  I'll be over in a couple."

   "Robbie's asleep too, but I don't have it."

   I counted to ten slowly.  "Tami..." I counted to ten in Spanish,
"why..." I counted to ten in German, "are you calling then?"

   "Mom called from the office.  She thought we should know."

   I wished I knew my numbers in a couple more languages.  I'd have to work
on that.  I knew Tami well enough to know there was something she didn't
want to tell me.  "Okay, I'll get dressed and we'll ride our bikes up to
the store." I hung up and made a mental note to learn one to ten in
Russian, Swahili, and Chinese.

   * * *



   The ride to the store finished the process of waking me up.  It was a
beautiful day, but what else would you expect for the first day of August.
The temperature hadn't started climbing yet.  It was probably about seventy
as we pedaled along the highway.

   In the store, the small rack only had about two dozen different
magazines, but People was in front.  "What am I looking for?" I asked as I
flipped it open to the table of contents on page eight.  It used to be the
contents were on two or three, but more and more advertising seemed to find
it's way to the front.

   "I think we should take it outside," she suggested.

   I gave her a look.  There was definitely something she didn't want to
tell me.  I bought the magazine, along with a Coke for me, an orange juice
for her and a dozen donuts.

   Outside, Tami pointed at the bench, but I shook my head.  I knew there
was something in here that I wasn't going to like, though I didn't have a
clue what.  Unless Lindsey Lohan had decided to become a blond.  And while
that would be a tragedy, it wasn't something Mrs.  Sharp would call home
about.  I figured why ruin the ride home.

   Back at the park, we settled on the swings and had breakfast.  Three
donuts for me, two for Tami and save the rest for Robbie, Ricky and Traci.

   I pulled the magazine out of the bag and set it on my lap.

   "I'm not going to like this?"

   Tami shook her head.  "Page one twenty-eight."

   I opened the magazine and flipped through it.  One page caught my eye:
Lindsey Lohan had gone blond.  But that was on page ninety.  This day was
getting better and better.  I got to one twenty-six.  Some soap opera star
was getting divorced.  Again.

   One twenty-seven.  An ad for Pepsi.  Not a good omen.

   I flipped the page.

   ATHLETE, SCHOLAR, HERO!  was the headline and below that, the picture of
me leaping out of the burning Miller house.

   I looked at Tami and she shrugged, then edged her swing over so that she
could read over my shoulder.  The first part of the article was almost word
for word from the newspaper article a month ago.  The rest just fleshed it
out.  There was a picture of the football team with my face circled.  And
one of me on the middle school team making a tag at second base that I
recognized from the paper after it happened.  Also my class picture, where
I was smiling a little too big.

   "Fuck!"

   "You can say that again," Tami agreed.

   I was tempted, but didn't.  "How?"

   Tami pointed to the by-line.  Janet Edwards.  The reporter from the
local paper.  Evidently she decided to go national.  "You didn't know."
More a statement than a question.

   "Not a clue.  I called and chewed her out for the article in the paper
and the way she left Robbie almost completely out of it.  I guess when she
decided to sell the story to People, she figured I wouldn't help."

   "She was right about that."

   I nodded.

   "Now what?"

   "Now we wake up Robbie and see if she's as philosophical about ten
million readers as she was about a couple of thousand.

   * * *



   Robbie thought it was funny.  "Hell, at least they spelled my name
right," was her only comment after we'd awakened her and the three of us
went back to my house to wake Ricky.  "Not a problem," she assured us, then
took Ricky back to Tami's house.

   We watched them go.  "I have a feeling that Ricky's going to get a hell
of a workout," I told Tami, thinking about giving her a workout myself.

   "What kind of workout?" asked a new voice.

   I spun and discovered Traci was up and standing behind us in the living
room.  I was starting to like my sister, even though she beat all of us at
Monopoly, but at the moment, I really wished I were an only child.

   Chapter 7



   "...brings recognition on our community.  The recent article in a
national magazine shows the nation, shows the world, that our youth are on
the right track."

   If the right track was about to barf on the mayor in front of a couple
of hundred people, then yeah.  `And why is it that the closer to the
election, the more they talk?' I thought.  If it was the middle of November
and he'd just been elected, it would have been, `The kid did good.' A year
ago we could have gotten by with a half page speech.  But now, in the
middle of August, with the election two-and-a-half months away, we were on
page three and going strong.

   "...athlete of extraordinary caliber but still able to get the grades in
school he'll need to succeed as an adult."

   He hadn't even gotten to the damn fire yet.  I tuned him out and looked
around the crowd.  Besides Tami, Robbie, and my sister, there were only
half-a-dozen kids.  It was mostly adults.  I recognized several of my
teachers from the middle school, and a couple I knew taught at the high
school.  Mr.  Boyd, the cop who lived in the front row of the trailer park,
was there in uniform.  My parents of course, looking ready to bust with
pride, that made me feel good.

   Tami looked proud, too.  Traci looked bored, and Robbie?  Robbie, I
couldn't read.

   "...risking his own life to rush into a building engulfed in flames.  I
present, the key to the city."

   I stood, smiled at the crowd and took the foot long gold plated key. 
"Thanks," I said quickly, waved the key over my head and beat a hasty
retreat.

   "And modest too," the mayor said, having the final word.

   As the ceremony broke up, I got hugged a lot.  The only one that meant
anything was Mrs.  Miller, and she hugged Robbie and Tami too.

   "Nice key," Robbie said as we made our escape.

   "Robbie, I..."

   "What?" she snapped.

   "Nothing.  It's just a gold painted key."

   "Yeah, just a key."

   * * *



   I stepped inside the door and threw my gym bag.

   "That doesn't go there," Mom said from the arm of Dad's chair as the bag
bounced off the wall and landed on the floor.

   "I know," I snapped.

   "How was try-outs?" Dad asked quickly before Mom could react.

   "Robbie made the team.  I didn't" As soon as I'd said it, I knew my tone
was harsher than it should be."

   "Tony..." Mom started.

   "Woman!  Go make your son some dinner."

   Mom stood, turned, and looked down at Dad.  "My son?" I couldn't see the
look on her face and was thankful for small favors.

   "With that attitude, you're damn right he's your son," Dad said,
grinning.

   With her back turned I couldn't tell for sure, but I think my mom stuck
her tongue out at my dad.

   As Mom walked into the kitchen he said, "You, sit!"

   "Yes, sir."

   I sat down on the floor in front of his chair.

   "Breathe!" he ordered.

   I pulled my legs under me into an Indian sit, then took a nice deep
breath and counted to ten, first in English, then Spanish, then German,
then Russian.  I was still working on Swahili and Chinese.  I let out the
breath.

   "What's the problem?"

   "Nothing," I said automatically.

   Dad stared down at me.  I held his gaze without blinking.

   He sighed and shook his head.  "Tony, you've been my son for twelve
years now."

   "Fourteen-and-a-half," I said, though I knew he knew.

   "Okay, fourteen-and-a-half years now, and you have a line of bullshit
that will get you elected president if you sink low enough to go into
politics.  But, I'm immune.  What's the problem?"

   "It's just...  it's not important.  I'm sorry I snapped at mom."

   "Tell her, not me.  But something's wrong and I'd like to know what it
is.  You went to the ceremony and everything was fine.  Then you hung out
with Robbie and Tami and everything was fine.  I drove you to try-outs, and
you and Robbie were both pumped.  Then you came home and..."

   "I told you, Robbie made the team.  I didn't.  End of story."

   "How long have you lived in the same house with my wife?"

   "Fourteen-and-a-half years."

   "I refuse to believe that you could live with that woman for
fourteen-and-a-half years and be bummed because a girl beat you at
something.  Especially when she's your friend.  You should be happy for
her."

   "I am.  It's just..."

   "You tried out for the varsity.  How many freshman make the varsity?"

   "Coach Branson said Robbie was the fourth freshman and first girl since
he's been coaching."

   "How long?"

   "This is his twelfth year."

   "So four freshman in twelve years, and you're bummed you're not one of
them?"

   "I know it's silly, but..."

   "Why did Robbie make it and not you?"

   I started to say because she was a girl.

   I started to say cause I had no defense.

   "Because she was really, really good today."

   "How good?"

   "The coach had us scrimmaging.  She was on the other side.  She sacked
me nine times." Hard!

   "Nine?"

   I nodded.  "Then the coach put her in the backfield and she intercepted
me twice."

   "Sounds like she was having a good day."

   "She was on fire," I admitted.

   "So she deserved to make the team?"

   Now it was my turn to sigh.  "The way she played today, she could have
made the team for Washington State."

   "So how did you do?"

   "I played good."

   "But not good enough?"

   "Not good enough," I admitted.  Though it would have been nice to have a
little better blocking on the line.

   "So what are you mad about?"

   "Hell if I know."

   Chapter 8



   "Tony!  The vice principal would like to see you," Mrs.  Wayne said
after reading the note the office aid had given her.

   What the hell?  The new school year only started an hour ago.  I can't
be in trouble already.

   I glanced at Tami and Robbie as I gathered my books.  They both
shrugged.

   * * *



   "What are you doing here?" I asked as I stepped into the vice
principal's office.

   "What are you doing here, sir," Mr.  Parker corrected.

   "What are you doing here?" I repeated.

   "Sit down, Mr.  Sims."

   "I'm missing algebra."

   "Sit down!" he snapped.

   I sat.

   "Miss Carlyle has retired, and I'm the new vice principal.  I wanted to
make sure that you're getting off to a good start."

   "I was doing fine, except I'm missing my algebra class."

   "There are more important things than algebra."

   "I'll be sure to tell Mrs.  Wayne you said so." I started to stand. 
"Are we done?"

   "Sit down!  I'll tell you when we're done." Mr.  Parker steepled his
fingers.  "We need to discuss your attitude."

   "My attitude has been just fine the entire..." I glanced at my watch,
"hour and seven minutes of the school year so far."

   "Your attitude is as bad as last year."

   "Are you planning to talk to every freshman who got in trouble last
year?"

   "My plans are none of your business, but no."

   I stood up and walked out the door.

   "Where do you think you're going?" he bellowed, causing everyone in the
outer office to stare.

   "To class.  I'm here to learn, remember?"

   "You're here to do what I tell you!"

   "Mrs.  Hatcher?" I said, looking at the school secretary.  "Would you
call my mother and tell her I'm getting suspended for going to class."

   Mrs.  Hatcher put her hand on the phone, then looked at Mr.  Parker.  He
shook his head.  "I'll tell you when you can talk to your mother."

   I smiled, then turned and ran into a wall.

   "Is there a problem here?" the wall asked.  I stepped back.

   Imagine Dom DeLuise after he'd gained weight.  A lot of weight.  Then
put him into a security guard's uniform that didn't fit and strap on a gun.

   "This student needs to go back into my office," Parker told the wall.

   The wall put his meaty hand on my shoulder and started pushing.

   I pulled out of his grip.  "This student needs to go back to class."

   The wall put his hand on the butt of his gun.  "You'll go where you're
told." He reached for me with the other hand.

   I ducked under him and out the door.

   I started to go back to class but realized that would last about two
minutes.

   I could call Mom, but the only public phones were in the office, or the
main lobby.  The wall looked stupid, but I thought he could figure out the
lobby.

   I could steal a car and make a break for it.  From hero to fugitive. 
Hell, they'd make a TV movie out of it.

   Then I had a better idea.  Not as much fun, but better.

   * * *



   "Could I have a word with Mr.  Mulino please?" I asked the secretary.

   She looked up at me suspiciously.  "Are you delivering a note or
something?"

   "No, I just wanted to talk to him for a minute."

   "Why?" Suspicious old bat.

   "He's the superintendent of schools.  I'm a student in school.  I
thought we had a common interest."

   She shook her head.  "He's a very busy man.  He can't talk to every
student.  And shouldn't you be in class?"

   "Wouldn't that be nice," I mumbled.

   "What is it you want?" a man asked, standing in the doorway to the inner
office.  If the wall looked like Dom DeLuise, this guy reminded me of
Jackie Gleason.

   "Just a question.  Are you Mr.  Mulino?"

   "I am.  What's your question?"

   "I just wondered if it was school policy to single out one student, pull
him out of class, and make dire warnings about future trouble?"

   "No," he admitted.  "That's not our policy.

   "Then why did Mr.  Parker have me pulled out of algebra and waste my
morning listening to his threats."

   "Well, Mr.  Parker is the vice principal."

   "And why did Mr.  Parker refuse to allow my mother to participate in
these discussions.  I asked several times."

   Mr.  Mulino looked troubled about that.  "I'm sure Mr.  Parker has his
reasons.  He's an experienced administrator after all."

   "Unfortunately, I can't tell you my opinion of Mr.  Parker's abilities
as an administrator, since freedom of speech doesn't apply here.  Maybe
we'd better get my mother here, and she can discuss Mr.  Parker."

   "Well, we could..."

   "She can also discuss, her son being threatened by a gun."

   "Mr.  Parker had a gun?"

   "No, your rent-a-cop does.  And he likes to use it to enforce his
words."

   "Henry pulled his gun?"

   "He didn't pull it, but he puts his hand on the butt to emphasize what
he says."

   Mr.  Mulino chuckled.  "I think you're blowing this out of proportion."

   "Let's see if People Magazine thinks so."

   "People?"

   "You're Tony Sims," the secretary announced.

   I nodded.

   She looked up at the superintendent.  "The assembly."

   "Oh, God!  Maybe you'd better step in here and tell me exactly what
happened."

   * * *



   "Then what happened?" Tami asked as she munched on a greasy sloppy joe.

   "I told him all about my morning."

   "Shading it your way," Robbie accused, as she ate a salad that somehow
looked greasier than Tami's sloppy joe.

   "I tried not to.  I tried to be objective.  Then he sent me back to
class and called Parker and Henry over for a talk."

   "Then what happened?" Tami asked again.

   "Well, I'm still here and you may notice that Henry is walking around
with an empty holster and a lost-his-best-friend look on his face.

   "All because you're hero in a magazine," Robbie accused.

   "I think that shortened the process, but I think Mom would have been on
my side and gotten the same result eventually."

   "What about the assembly the secretary mentioned?" Tami asked as she
wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

   "I guess they were planning to do the hero thing..."

   "Oh..." Robbie said, pushing her salad away.

   "I didn't ask..."

   "I know."

   * * *



   "A friend of mine, Ricky Calloway, gave me some advice for making it as
a freshman in this school.  He said to keep a low profile.  To stay off the
radar." I stood behind the lectern on the stage and looked out at the sea
of faces in front of me.  Six hundred students and change.  "I don't think
I'm doing it right."

   The audience laughed, which helped quiet the butterflies in my stomach.

   "I need to tell you a secret.  It's one I've been keeping all summer."

   Off to the side Mr.  Parker looked annoyed, which also helped quiet my
butterflies.  I was supposed to say thank you for the hero introduction and
get the hell out of the way for the next announcement.

   "Back in July, I was taking a walk with two beautiful, sexy girls." I
saw Parker's face go all pruney when I said sexy.  "We were just hanging
out, not doing anything at all, when Robbie Tate saw smoke.  The Miller
house was on fire.  Since she was their neighbor, she knew that Mrs. 
Miller lived there with three children."

   "She grabbed my arm and Tami's.  And literally pulled us down the road
and into the Miller yard.  When we got there, we saw smoke pouring out of
all the windows.  We also saw Mrs.  Miller's car and no people and knew
they were inside."

   "Robbie told Tami to call the fire department, and Tami took off down
the road to the next house.  Then Robbie rushed into the house.  And I
stood there."

   "Robbie came out a minute later, coughing hard.  She yelled at me.  She
called me some things that I can't repeat while on school property." That
got another laugh.  "Then she went back in.  This time I followed her."

   "There was smoke everywhere.  I couldn't breathe, and I could barely
see. Robbie grabbed the baby out of his crib and started pulling Mrs
Miller, who was barely conscious, toward the door.  I went upstairs and
grabbed the seven-year-old and the three-year-old.  The fire department
showed up just as I was jumping out of the house with the kids."

   "You've probably seen the picture that makes me look like a real hero.
But Robbie was the hero.  I froze.  If Robbie hadn't been there, I'm not
sure any of the Millers would still be around.  It's not that I was scared,
but I froze.  Then everybody assumed I was the hero and Robbie was just
there, and I was too ashamed to set the record straight."

   "So if you want to see a hero, you need to get Robbie up here."

   It was Ricky who started it.  "Rob-bie, Rob-bie, Rob-bie..." he chanted
and stomped his feet.  Then Tami joined in, Luke a syllable behind her.  It
took less than a minute before all six hundred throats were yelling and
twelve hundred feet were stomping.  Robbie got up and slowly made her way
to the stage.

   She hugged me, then smiled at the chanting crowd.  I hugged her again
and faced them myself.  The chanting went on.

   Mr.  Parker never did get to the rest of his announcements.

   Chapter 9



   "I need to go talk to Robbie," I told Tami after we'd done a lap around
the park.  Dinner was over and our nightly walk helped it settle.

   "You just want to get into her pants," Tami accused.  "It must be nice
having a part-time girlfriend with an understanding father."

   Tami glanced at her trailer, where her mother waited inside.

   "It comes in handy," I admitted.  "So what do you think your mom would
do if she heard us making mad passionate love in your room?"

   "Do the words `castration' and `convent' mean anything to you?"

   My hand moved subconsciously to cover my crotch.  "So you think we
should keep sneaking around?"

   "We're not even Catholic."

   * * *



   As I rode toward Robbie's house I thought about my situation.  I hadn't
really planned to have sex with Robbie, but I'd hate to disappoint Tami. 
Of course, the fact that Tami was cool about my sex life including Robbie,
Mikee, and Kelly implied that it would be cool if her sexual circle
expanded.  I thought I would be, though the Peter King incident didn't bode
well.  But, I told myself, that was different.

   I mean, I didn't mind that Robbie was having sex with Ricky.  A lot of
sex, from what I could tell.  And I didn't mind that Mikee's relationship
with Luke seemed to have gotten pretty oral.  But I knew in my heart that
it would be different with Tami.  I just didn't know how different.

   * * *



   When the door opened to my knock, Robbie took one look at me and flowed
into my arms.  "Oh, Tony," she cooed as her cheek nestled mine.

   Her dad stuck his head out of the living room.  "Would you two get a
room?" He came out into the foyer and extended his hand.  "I heard what you
did today.  It must have been hard."

   I shook his hand while hugging his daughter with my free one.  "It would
have been easier if I'd done it from the start."

   "Hindsight."

   I nodded, my cheek rubbing Robbie's.

   "Now if you don't mind, take my daughter upstairs if you want to ravish
her."

   My eyes opened wide.  He'd always ignored my physical relationship with
Robbie, not encouraged it.

   "I have company coming, and you two aren't exactly the welcome mat I
have in mind."

   "Yeah, Ashley Burke," Robbie added with more than a trace of venom.

   "I thought you liked Ashley?" her dad said, surprised.

   "I do," Robbie admitted grudgingly.  "It's impossible not to like
Ashley." Robbie released me, took my hand and led me toward the stairs. 
"Send her up when she gets here."

   "Are you sure that's a good idea," he called up behind us.

   "We'll be decent," she said.  "Mostly," she said softly for my benefit.

   "Thank you so much for today," she said with a thank you kiss as she
closed her door.

   "You deserved it.  I'm sorry I took so long."

   "I know I said it didn't bother me, but..."

   "I know exactly how you felt.  You know it shouldn't bother you.  You
don't want it to bother you, but inside it just grates on you little by
little, building up, until you want to kill somebody."

   "I'm sorry I tried to hurt you."

   "You tried to hurt me?"

   "At football.  At try-outs.  Two weeks ago."

   "No wonder you were hitting so hard.  I had twice as many bruises as
usual.  And a lot prettier colors."

   Robbie grinned.  "I'm sorry you didn't make varsity."

   "The way you were hitting, I'm just glad I was able to walk off the
field.  Besides, I can still make it."

   Robbie kissed me again, this time not like a thank you kiss.

   "So who's Ashley?" I asked, my hands finding comfortable handholds on
her ass and tit.

   "You'll love her.  She's blond and cute."

   "I like brunettes and redheads," I said firmly.

   "What about Kelly?"

   "I make an exception for her age."

   "Uh huh.  You'll like Ashley.  Think the movie version of Marcia Brady.
Long blond hair and girl-next-door sexy without even realizing it.  Add
super-nice, and it's impossible not to like her."

   "Can I try?"

   "Nope.  She's my friend.  You have to like her to stay on my good side."

   "Well, I want to stay on your good side," I said, squeezing my
handholds.

   "You'd better, or I'll..."

   Her threat was interrupted by a knock.

   Robbie opened the door without unprying herself from my body.  She
kissed me again as a blond girl stepped into the room.

   She looked exactly like the Marcia Brady from the movies.  Guess it was
my day for celebrities.  Dom DeLuise, Jackie Gleason, and now Marcia Brady.

   Robbie let go of me, turned, and hugged the new girl, their cries of
"Ashley" and "Robbie" mingling together.

   I watched, noticing how nicely their tits squished together and
remembering the threesome that I was owed someday.  Maybe we could make it
a foursome.  That would give me a blond, a brunette and a redhead.

   "Ashley, this is my best friend's boyfriend, Tony."

   "If this is your best friend's boyfriend, I want to see how you kiss
your boyfriend."

   Robbie grinned.

   "Tony kisses good, and Tami doesn't mind sharing."

   "In that case..." she said seductively.  I think she was joking.

   "You've got to get permission," I said, wanting at least some control of
the situation.

   "We'll call Tami," Robbie said brightly.

   "We will?"

   "Sure," Robbie said, already picking up the phone and punching two on
her speed-dial.  I was one.  "Hi, Tami," she said after a few rings.  "He's
still here." She listened for a minute, then giggled.  "No, we've still got
them on." She listened some more.  "I've got a friend here who wants to
talk to you." She pushed the phone at Ashley.

   "What should I say?" Ashley asked as she took the phone.

   "You might try, `Hi, I'm Ashley.'"

   Ashley brought the phone to her ear.  "Hi, I'm Ashley." She listened. 
"Ashley Burke.  I'm from Chattanooga, like Robbie." They talked for a
couple of minutes, then Ashley held the phone to her chest, lucky phone,
and looked at Robbie.  "What now?"

   "Ask her."

   "I...  I can't ask that."

   "You're hopeless," Robbie said and laughed, taking the phone.

   "Hi, Tami.  Ashley thinks Tony's cute and wants to know if she can make
out with him."

   "Robbie!" Ashley shouted, turning red and trying to bury her face in her
shoulder.

   "Okay.  Bye, Tami" Robbie glanced at me and I was shaking my head.

   "Tami says yes, but Tony says no," she said, putting the phone down on
the desk.

   "You do?" Ashley asked, surprised.

   "It's just..."

   "It's okay," she said softly.

   Shit!

   "You don't have to kiss me, if you don't want to." It was almost a
whisper.

   Fuck!  A sex kitten with self-esteem issues.

   "It's just my life is kind of complicated."

   "And I'm a complication." You could almost hear the tears in her voice.

   Fuck!  Fuck!  Damn!  What the hell?  I grabbed Ashley's shoulders and
pulled her to me.  I tilted my head, and my mouth pressed against hers. 
She kept her mouth closed, but other than that she was a hell of a kisser.
My hands moved naturally to her ass and tit, just like they had with
Robbie.

   The kiss lasted a long time.

   "That's one hell of a complication," I muttered when we came up for air.

   "It's not a complication.  She lives on the other side of the country.
It was just a kiss." Robbie said, with a laugh.

   "Didn't you know?  We're moving.  My dad's going to work for your dad
again."

   I flipped Robbie the bird behind Ashley's back.  Then I kissed Ashley
again.  And again.

   * * *



   I sent People the true story of the rescue.  They sent back a letter
thanking me but never printed anything.  You know what they say about facts
and legends.

   Print the legend.

   Chapter 10



   The only good thing about not making varsity was that I got to watch
Robbie's games.  Most of the time.  The freshmen team played on Wednesday
nights, the JV on Thursdays, and the varsity on Fridays, though that
changed depending on school schedules, weather and stuff.

   I was the starting quarterback for the JV.  At least I'd skipped the
freshman team.  Robbie was the backup reserve quarterback for the varsity,
though some times she'd go in as an end or on defense.  So that also means
I got more playing time than she did.  I guess that's two things.

   So Wednesdays, if the freshmen were at home, Robbie, Ricky, Tami and I
would go watch the freshman play.  After all we knew everybody.  Then
Thursdays Robbie, Ricky, and Tami would come watch me, and Fridays Ricky,
Tami, and I would come watch Robbie.  And if we hadn't had enough, we'd
have somebody's house Saturday for college and Sunday for the pros.

   Luke and Mikee would join us some of those days.  But Luke also had
Tuesday night football at the middle school.  Mikee was a cheerleader.

   Ashley moved at the middle of September.  She wasn't into football, but
she'd usually come either Thursday or Friday if we were at home, just to
hang with the group.  As you can imagine, the guys were all over her, but
so far nobody had made any headway.  Tami told me to make her feel welcome,
so I'd make out with here a couple times a week.  Maybe feel her up.  Yeah,
I know I'm whipped.  It's hell doing what your girlfriend wants.

   Life was Goo...  Well, I didn't want to use the G-word.  It seems like
every time I thought life was...  well, you know, then life would come
crashing down, and Tami and I would be out of it for months at a time.  Not
this year.

   Every night we weren't at football, Tami and I would take an evening
walk around the park, or to the store, through the woods, or some
combination.  Sometimes Robbie was with us.  Or one or both of the girls.
Sometimes we'd talk, sometimes just walk in silence.

   But I also liked to walk by myself.  Just me and my thoughts.  That was
usually when I had to be careful about thinking life was G.  Usually when I
was trekking by myself, I was in the woods behind the park.  They extended
about a half-mile behind the park and about a quarter mile one way and a
half mile the other, so there were lots of trails.  I always hoped I'd find
another owl, but so far no luck.

   It was the last Saturday in September, and I was hanging by myself. 
Ricky and Robbie were at a movie, and Tami had gone shopping with her
mother.  Robbie was annoyed with me anyway.  The JV had won their fourth
game on Thursday, and the varsity had dropped their fourth.  Which, like a
good friend, I didn't mention.  But Robbie said I smirked a lot.  I don't
even know how to smirk.

   None of the games on TV interested me.  Besides, it was a beautiful day.
Indian summer had hit central Washington.  I decided to go exploring. 
There was one corner of the woods that I hadn't checked out much.

   I made several sandwiches, then loaded a backpack with them, some
cookies, and a couple of cans of Atlanta's finest and headed out.  I even
stuck in the new digital camera I'd bought with my lawn mowing money.  The
sun was shining hard, but the temperature was mid-seventies with just a
hint of a breeze.

   I went past Mr.  Lansing's trailer, into the woods, and started taking
trails that headed toward the southeast corner.  I figured eventually I'd
come out on McIver's Way.  Then, if I still wanted to hike, I could walk a
mile to the state park and hike around there all afternoon.

   Birds swooped through the low branches, checking me out, but no owls.  I
thought I saw a hawk, but it was too far away to be sure.  Squirrels were
out in force, and I saw a racoon and skunk, too.

   I took a lot of pictures.  The camera was still new, so it was a toy. 
I'd bought a one gig card, so I could take all the pictures I wanted. 
Maybe I'd put them together into a photo report for some class.  The skunk
picture turned out great.  With the zoom, it made it look like I was a
daring wildlife photographer right up in his face.

   I wondered who owned all this.  I'd hate like hell for somebody to turn
it into a mini-mall or something.

   About the time I figured I should be getting to McIver's, I ran into a
tall redwood fence.

   Somebody had some bucks.  The fence was seven feet high, and I didn't
think redwood was cheap.

   Idle curiosity made me wonder what was behind the fence.  There was a
tree next to it, and I hadn't climbed a tree in years.  I jumped up and
grabbed a branch about eight feet off the ground, then pulled myself up.

   The backyard was worth the climb, I thought as I sat on the limb.  It
was fantastic.  Lots of grass, a little creek that started from a
four-foot-high waterfall.  A dozen different flower beds.  On one side of
the house was a pool.  On the other, a redwood deck and hot tub.  This was
the kind of place I wanted when Tami and I got a house.  Which meant at
least one of us had to make some bucks.

   I was taking pictures of everything when a girl came out of the house. I
zoomed in on her.  It was Sally Jeffries in a string bikini that looked
like it would be at home on a Brazilian beach.

   Yes, I visit those sites on the internet.  But it was research.  I was
doing a report on the Amazon river.  And the river empties into the
Atlantic ocean.  And the ocean has beaches at Rio de Janeiro.  And people
use those beaches.  And some of those people are girls.  And the girls in
Rio wear really small bikinis.  Good honest research.

   Sally was a sophomore, a year ahead of me.  I realized that I'd never
paid much attention to her and wondered why.  She had a spectacular body.
Then she turned around and leaned over to adjust her lounge chair.  She had
a spectacular ass which the thong in back of her bikini showed off in every
detail.

   Why the hell hadn't I noticed her?

   Then I remembered.  She always wore baggy clothes.  Usually loose pants
and baggy sweatshirts.  And glasses.  She wasn't wearing glasses now, so
either she had contacts, or didn't need them around the house.

   I knew I was being a peeping Tom, but couldn't seem to make myself get
out of the tree.  I mean, after all, I hadn't climbed up to spy on her.  I
was checking out the yard.  I didn't even know she lived here.  I realized
that I'd taken a couple dozen pictures of Sally while I'd looked through
the zoom, but promised myself that I'd delete them when I got home.  Or
maybe when I was old and senile and they put me in a home.

   I watched as Sally settled onto the lounger.  She leaned back, her long
legs slightly open.  I took some more pictures and wondered if I could get
a camera with a stronger zoom.

   My cock was trying to get my attention as it pressed against the
cut-offs I was wearing, but I had not sunk low enough to jerk off in a
tree, spying on a girl.  I'd almost convinced myself to climb down when
Sally reached behind her and undid her top, taking it off and letting it
fall to the ground beside her.

   I took another thirty or so pictures.

   Mental note: password protect the file when I download the pictures onto
my computer.  Before I do the responsible thing and delete them, of course.
But I had to download them, so I could see them on my 21-inch monitor. 
Just to see how they turned out.

   After almost twenty minutes I was ready to climb down.  I had almost two
hundred shots of Sally, and I didn't think she was going to take of her
bottom.  I'd put the camera in my pocket when somebody else came out of the
house.  Another girl.  In a bikini.

   I pulled out the camera and zoomed in.  I recognized her, but didn't
know who she was.  I hate that feeling.  She was wearing a bikini at least
as small as Sally's, though I couldn't tell if it was a thong in back.  Her
body was almost as nice.  She stretched and said something to Sally.  Sally
laughed.

   I knew I knew her.  I didn't think she went to our school.  Why would I
know her, if she didn't go to our school?

   The only girls I knew who I didn't go to school with were in California.
Was she a cheerleader from another school?  Maybe I'd seen her at a game. I
tried to picture her jumping up and down in a short skirt, but it didn't
seem to fit.

   Wait.  I did know some other girls.  Alana's friends.  But she wasn't
one of those.  She had to be Sally's friend.  I tried to picture her
dressed like Sally, baggy sweatshirt and loose pants.

   It clicked.

   Dana something.

   She'd come to school with Sally the first week of school.  She was from
Yakima.  Or Tacoma.  Or Vancouver.  Someplace like that.

   Oh, my God!  Dana had straddled Sally and sat down on her thighs.  She
was wearing a thong.  Now she was leaning forward, and their lips melted
together.  I saw a flash of tongue.

   Oh fuck!  I reached down and adjusted my cock, then took more pictures.
My mind played a brief scene where I jumped down inside the fence, said,
`Hi Girls," and we were a tangle of naked bodies.  I wondered if Tami was
ready for that three-way with Robbie yet.

   Sally's hands were busy on Dana's back, and her top came off and joined
Sally's.  I took picture after picture as their tits rubbed together.  Then
Sally took Dana's nipple into her mouth.  I reached down and squeezed Big
Tony through my cut-offs.

   Damn!  I'd read about girl-girl sex.  I'd fantasized about Robbie and
Tami and other girls.  I'd wondered about Mikee and Kelly.  They were so
sexual.  What did they do when I wasn't around?  Despite hundreds of
stories I'd read about sisters exploring each other's bodies, I just
couldn't picture Mikee and Kelly together.

   I watched as Dana stood and pulled down her bottoms, then pulled off
Sally's.  Sally adjusted the lounger until she was lying flat.  Dana
grinned at her and straddled her head.  Then she was pressing her pussy
down on Sally's mouth.  I could tell by her face when Sally's tongue
stabbed into her pussy.

   Then I remembered that my camera also took video.  I hadn't tried that
yet.  I changed to video mode and shot as Dana leaned down and started
kissing Sally's crotch.  They were doing a 69.

   I took another ten minutes of video before the girls got up and walked
hand-in-hand to the house.  I was so far gone that I thought about dropping
into the yard and trying to find the right window to see the rest of the
action.  I wondered if they would use dildos on each other.  I closed my
eyes and pictured the two of them, naked on a bed, with an assortment of
sex toys.  Until now, I'd thought all the toys I'd read about were stupid,
but with the picture of the two young lesbians fresh in my mind...

   Eyes still closed, I reached down and released Big Tony.  I felt
light-headed, but that was because every drop of blood in my body had
engorged my favorite tool.  I wrapped my hand around it and squeezed.  The
orgasm that washed over me was incredible.  I could feel my cock pulse in
my hand as spurt after spurt of my seed splattered down to the ground

   Two hot lesbians.

   Completely in my power.

   Completely at my mercy.

   My eyes opened and I let go of my cock.  Thinking with the small head
was definitely not a good idea.  The two girls weren't in my power.  They
deserved their privacy.  What they did wasn't any of my business.  Wasn't
anybody's business.  I put Big Tony back in his garage, zipped up, and
dropped to the ground.

   I'd filled almost the entire gigabyte card.  I knew I should delete it
all, but also knew I wouldn't.

   I headed home.

   I needed to wash my mind out with soap.

   Or take a walk with Tami if she were back.  That worked too.

   Chapter 11



   I was sitting in the bleachers, one arm around Tami's waist, the other
around Ashley's shoulders.  Feeling the two girls huddled close to me,
trying to keep warm in the fierce October wind, was nice.  The looks I was
getting from some of the guys near us made it even better.  Ricky was
sitting on the other side of Tami, and Luke and Mikee were on the other
side of Ashley.

   This was the life.  I didn't even need to pay much attention to the game
in front of me.  We were playing the Loggers, the toughest team in our
league.  The varsity hadn't won a game yet, so it was all a question of
could we keep the Loggers from setting a scoring record.  There were still
two minutes in the first quarter, and the Loggers had already scored twice.

   I saw Robbie trot out onto the field and Mike Reed, the first string
quarterback, head for the sidelines.  I started to say something, but
noticed that Luke's hand was under Mikee's very short skirt.  The dog. 
Mikee and the rest of the middle school cheerleaders had gotten to cheer
with the varsity cheerleaders before the game.

   I was trying not to stare as Mikee's skirt moved, not very successfully,
I'll admit, when I realized that someone was standing in front of me.

   "Coach wants you," Jaime Arnold said.

   "Huh?" I said brilliantly as I tried to pull my focus away from the
treasure I knew was under that skirt.

   "The coach wants you," she said again, very slowly.

   Behind her, Robbie took the snap, faded back, and fired a short pass
just before two of the Loggers hit her hard.  The ball sailed right into
the hands of our receiver, who managed another three yards before getting
tackled.  Twelve yards and a first down.

   I looked back at Jaime.  "I'm kind of comfortable."

   "The coach wants you, NOW!  You're suiting up." Then she turned and
bounced down the stairs to the field.  Jamie could really bounce.  She was
the captain of the cheerleaders.

   I kissed Ashley lightly on the cheek, then Tami on the lips.  "I go now.
Fame and glory await," I said pompously.

   "My hero," Ashley said and pretended to swoon as I stood up.

   Tami brought her fist to her breast with a stiff arm, then extended it
out and up in the old Roman salute.  "Come back with your shield, or on it,
my captain."

   I nodded to Ricky then ran down the stairs.  I ran out onto the field
and up to the coach.  "Suit up.  Be here in five minutes."

   Totally ridiculous.  It would take me three minutes to run to the locker
room, at least five minutes to get pads on and suited up, and three minutes
to get back.  "Five minutes," I agreed and ran off.

   I was pulling on my hip pads when I heard the gun sound, ending the
first quarter.  At least my uniform was clean.  I always washed it the
night after a game and brought it back the next morning.  It was one less
thing to worry about on game days.

   We were three minutes into the second quarter when I ran back on the
field.  Tami saw me, and she, Ashley, and Mikee stood up and started
cheering.  Then people around them started cheering too, though they
probably didn't know why.  I waved as I trotted up to the coach.  "Sit!" he
said, waving at the bench.  So much for hero time.

   Sitting there on the bench, the varsity players totally ignoring me, I
realized I was in a world of hurt.  The JV coach--my coach, Mr. 
Henley--didn't like Mr.  Branson, the varsity coach.  The teams didn't work
out together, and we didn't even use the same play book.  What the hell was
I going to do?

   The half ended on a high note.  Mike Reed took the snap, faked a handoff
to Robbie, then faded back to pass.  Two of the Loggers hit him from each
side and the ball went loose.  Robbie scooped it up and zig-zagged her way
down field for a twenty-one yard touchdown.  Our first.  Score at the half:
thirty-six to six.

   I felt really weird walking with the team toward the locker room, my
uniform gleaming white in a sea of dirt and grass stained jerseys.  Robbie
came up and put her arm around me.  "How are you feeling?"

   "Lost.  How 'bout you?  You took some good hits."

   Robbie laughed.  "They're boys.  They don't know how to hit."

   I didn't even bother to defend my gender.

   * * *



   The coach was less than inspiring in the locker room.  And our charge
back to the field was more of a disinterested jog.

   The first play, Robbie and I were both on defense.  We were on the left
side.  The center hiked the ball, and I hit the left end while Robbie
scooted around.  She was on the quarterback before he knew what had hit
him. And hit him she did.  Right at the side of the knees.  She picked him
up and carried him a couple of feet before they both hit the ground.

   Having been hit by Robbie, I felt a little sorry for him.  Just a
little. I wondered if he knew he'd just been sacked by a girl.  And a
freshman girl at that.

   As we set up for the second down, I had a vicious idea.  I motioned
Robby over and whispered to her.  The grin on her face told me that my idea
was as good as I thought.

   We held them for the next two plays, which brought us to fourth down
with twelve yards to go.  "They're not going to punt," I told Robbie. 
"They haven't had to punt all season, and they're not going to punt against
us." She nodded.  I pointed and motioned, and she nodded again.

   The Loggers lined up and looked like they were gonna punt.  But I was
confident.  Sort of.  The center hiked the ball, and I dove hard between
two of the lineman.  Then Robbie was going over the top of me, her foot in
the middle of my back.  Mental note: no more donuts for Robbie.  Robbie was
through the hole and on top of the quarterback.

   As the kid was picking himself up after the play, Robbie unsnapped her
helmet and took it off, then shook out her hair.  Lots of long red hair. 
The kid's eyes barely stayed in his head.  Robbie grinned at me as she
walked back to our side, tucking her hair in and putting her helmet back
on.

   That ought to shake him up a little, I thought.

   Mike Reed came out to quarterback, but Robbie and I stayed in the game.
Mike took the snap, Robbie ran along the outside, Mike faked the handoff. I
came up the other side and Mike slammed the ball into my gut.  I ran
straight at the sideline, turned, planted, and fired a short pass, right to
where I knew Robbie would be waiting.  She caught the ball and made fifteen
yards before a Logger caught up to her and brought her down.

   I wish I could say we won, the comeback of the season.  But when the
final gun sounded the Loggers won, forty-six to nineteen.  But at least we
scared 'em a little.  Robbie's stats were amazing: five sacks, an
interception, and a fumble recovery, on top of sixty-five yards on the
ground.

   My stats weren't nearly as good, but good enough that I moved to varsity
for the rest of the season.  It felt good to be the fifth freshman.

   It also felt good to read the write-up in the paper about the game. 
They had a great picture of Robbie's second sack and about half of the full
page article was about Monster Girl as somebody from the Loggers called
her.

   Monster Girl.  I liked that.

   Chapter 12



   "It's for you,." Tami announced, looking...  not surprised.  Wary?

   I'd been sitting between Robbie and Tami on the sofa in Tami's living
room, watching Ever After on television and wondering if this might be a
good night to suggest the threesome that Robbie owed me.

   "Hello?" I said, after taking the phone.  It was only nine-thirty on a
Saturday night, so I didn't think it'd be Mom or Dad.

   "Tony?"

   A girl's voice, but I didn't recognize it.

   "This is Tony."

   "I didn't know who else to call."

   Flattering, but not terribly informative.

   "Okay?"

   "I need...  I think I need some help."

   "Allie?"

   "I don't know...  what to do.  I called your house, they said you were
here."

   "Allie, what's wrong."

   "I'm at THE party."

   Shit!  When she said the party instead of a party, I knew exactly where
she was.

   "Do you need me to come get you?

   "Please." It was the most pathetic sounding word I'd ever heard.

   "Five minutes."

   "I've got to go," I said to Tami and Robbie, setting the phone on the
coffee table and standing up.

   "To see Allie," Tami accused.

   "Yeah, to see Allie." Either we had trust or we didn't.  "If you get
lonely," I said as I stepped out the door, "you could always tell Robbie
about that little fantasy you had on the fourth of July."

   I ran home.

   "Mom, I need a ride."

   "It's almost ten," she said, from her perch on Dad's lap.  Traci was
lying on her stomach on the floor in front of them, trying to ignore our
parents who didn't know how to act their age.  Ever After was on the TV.

   "Mom, I need a ride NOW!"

   Mom looked surprised, but after she studied my face a few seconds she
struggled to get up.  "I'll get my keys."

   "What's wrong?" Dad asked, while Mom put on her shoes.

   "It would really help if this was a don't-ask-don't-tell kind of thing."

   Dad looked like he was going to argue, then stayed quiet.  He probably
figured he'd let Mom worm it out of me.

   "Can I come?" The squirt asked from the floor.

   "No!" I said sharply, then softened it.  "Not this time."

   "Where are we going?" Mom asked, picking her keys up off the table in
the foyer.

   "Falstaff Road on the other side of town." I opened the door and a big
wet snowflake landed in my left eye.  Just what I needed.

   The snow was just beginning to fall, so the roads wouldn't be bad.  But
visibility might suffer.  The forecast had said Sunday.

   "Would you like to tell me why we're going out into a blizzard?" she
asked as she started the car.  There was about a dozen splotches on the
windshield from the snow.  Not exactly a white-out.

   "A friend called.  She's in trouble."

   "That call a few minutes ago.  I gave her Tami's number." Mom turned the
car onto the highway and headed for town.  "She sounded upset."

   I knew that don't-ask-don't-tell wasn't going to get me very far.  Mom
was capable of stopping the car on the side of the road and sitting there
with us slowly freezing to death until I talked.

   "There's a party.  It's a tradition the Saturday after football
finishes. It's at Gary's house.  Gary Peters.  It's mostly juniors and
seniors, Gary's a senior.  A friend of mine went.  I think she's in over
her head."

   "And she called you?"

   "She called me."

   "It's not Robbie, is it?  I thought she was with you at Tami's house."

   "She was.  Is."

   "That new girl, Ashley?"

   "No, she went to Seattle with her Dad.  Her mom and little sister are
flying in tomorrow."

   "Then..."

   The unspoken`Who?' hung in the air in the frigid car.  I wondered if I
could get away with not saying.  Then decided it didn't matter.

   "Allie Smidt.  I don't think you know her."

   "Why'd she call you?"

   "That is a very good question." And one that Tami is probably asking
herself right now.  Allie and I were friends, but hadn't been close except
for that fling a year-and-a-half ago.  Then she'd gone off to camp and Tami
and I were Tami and I when she came back.

   "Why not call her parents?"

   "Mom, I don't know!" I said, a little more hotly than necessary.  "Maybe
they're not home.  Or maybe she's afraid to call.  I just don't know." Mom
nodded.

   "Take the by-pass, it goes right by Falstaff." Mom nodded again and made
the turn.  The snow was picking up, but still wasn't that bad.  And it
didn't seem to be sticking on the road.

   "That's Falstaff," I said pointing.

   "Mom chuckled.  "Tony, I've lived here as long as you." She turned onto
Falstaff.

   "I wasn't sure if you knew this part of town," I explained.

   "Janet Taylor lives over here." I made a face and watched the road. 
Janet Taylor worked with Mom.  She also had a daughter, Kendra, that Mom
had tried to fix me up with a couple of times, after she'd decided that
Tami and I were too serious.

   "Where to?"

   "Not exactly sure," I admitted.  Gary was on the football,
team-co-captain as a matter of fact-and had never accepted the fact that I
was, too.

   "That's helpful."

   "Look for a house with a lot of cars."

   "What if someone else is having a party?"

   "I have a feeling this will be kind of obvious." We drove slowly down
the wide residential street.  "There!"

   Obvious was an under-statement.  There were about thirty cars parked in
front of the large two-story house.  Several parked on the lawn.  One
parked with it's tail end halfway in the road.  The front door was open,
despite the thickening snow, and a loud bass beat filled the street.

   "Are we taking her home?"

   "Mom!" I said, exasperated.  "I really hate when you ask questions I
don't know the answers to."

   Mom parked next to the car sticking into the road.

   "Wait here!" I ordered.  Mom cocked her head and looked at me as I
opened the door.  "Please?" She nodded.

   "What are you doing here?" Steve Logan, another senior and another
football player not happy about a freshman on HIS team.

   "Carla invited me," I said, thinking quickly.  The two biggest sluts in
the school were both named Carla, and I'd bet the ranch they were both here
somewhere.  Steve ignored me.

   I wandered in, not closing the door.  Four couples were squeezed onto
the sofa making out.  I noticed that Jenny Tadesco had a very nice tit,
since it was poking out of her shirt as Vinnie Barbarino pawed it.  Another
dozen kids milled around, talking or dancing.

   Alana was on the floor with a guy I didn't know.  They were more than
dancing, but not quite fucking.

   I went into the kitchen and saw a dozen almost-empty bottles lined up
for inspection on the counter, mostly vodka, but a couple of Jim Beam and
one Jack Daniels.  Three kegs sat on the kitchen table.  Several guys I
knew from the team were standing around with drinks in their hands.

   No Allie.

   Another room, probably the den, and I found Paula pressed into a corned
by Mark Richards.  Which was interesting because as of this afternoon, she
was going out with Ben Wright.

   Paula saw me.  "Hey tiger, come to party?"

   Mark turned around and glared at me.  Interrupting a senior while he's
making out is not the best thing for a freshman's health.

   "Looking for Allie," I told her.

   Paula looked surprised.  "Upstairs, the last time I saw her." Mark
decided that we'd talked enough and pressed her back into the corned and
covered her mouth with his.  I nodded thanks, not sure if she'd notice, and
headed for the stairs.

   Upstairs, I hesitated outside the first door.  From what was going on
downstairs, I had a feeling that I'd be Interrupting some serious stuff if
I picked the wrong room.

   I opened the door.  The room was dark except for the band of light from
the door.  On the bed, was a very nice bare ass, with her legs wrapped
around a naked guy.  But it was a blond, so I closed the door quickly.

   The next door I opened, there were two couples on the bed, one fucking,
the other in a 69.  But the girls weren't Allie.  "Shut the fucking door,"
came a strained voice from the tangle that I wasn't sure was male or
female.

   The next door was locked.  I assumed it was a bathroom.

   I knocked.

   "Go away!"

   "Allie?"

   "Go away!"

   "Allie, it's Tony."

   "You go away, too."

   Now what?  "Allie, tell me you're okay, and I'll go away."

   A girl I vaguely recognized came up beside me.  "She's been in there
awhile," she said softly.

   I nodded.  "Allie, are you okay?"

   "I'm fin..." The door opened and Allie rushed out and hugged me.  I
noticed her shirt was open and caught a quick glimpse of her yellow bra. 
"I...  I didn't know what to do."

   I put my arms around her.  "You did the right thing," I whispered.  "You
called a friend." The girl in the hallway slipped past us, and I saw her
start to pull down her jeans before the door closed.

   "Come on." I started leading her toward the stairs.  "Do you want to
talk about it?"

   "No, I can't."

   "Okay." We were about halfway down the stairs, and I wondered what I was
going to do with her.  Tami didn't like her, but I knew she'd take her in
if I asked.  Or I could take her home.  But what about her parents?  Were
they home?  Did they expect her, or was she supposed to spend the night
somewhere?  Why the hell am I involved.

   Just as we stepped outside, Allie convulsed and spewed a
greenish-blackish gunk all over Mrs.  Peters' roses.  I was guessing that
little Allie had some of that liquor from the kitchen.

   It was cold, but I didn't want to worry about Allie's coat.  I would
have given her mine, but it was back in Tami's living room.  I guided her
toward the car.  Just as I open the back door, Allie let loose with another
torrent of goo, this one more of a yellow-green.  I wondered if that was a
good sign.

   I got Allie in and sat beside her.  Thankfully the car was warm now. 
Mom looked back at us, I'm sure noticing Allie's open shirt, then looked at
me questioningly.

   "Home." I mouthed.  "Do you need anything?" I asked softly.

   Allie shook her head.  "I came with Rod Anderson," she said quietly. 
Another football player.  A senior and the other co-captain.  Allie was
playing at the top of the food chain.  "His friend Alex Keaton came too,
but by himself.  We had some drinks."

   I guessed more than a couple.

   "Then we went upstairs to fool around.  Alex came too."

   Allie looked at me, the surprise must have shown on my face.  "I'm not
like that.  I was just...  it was...  it was just a little kinky.  And I
was feeling all warm and loose."

   "Allie, you don't have to say..." I whispered.

   "We started out just necking.  And touching." Allie kept her voice low,
not wanting my mother to hear.  "Then Rod was pulling off my clothes.  Alex
was in a chair, and he had his dick out, playing with it."

   "Is that when your shirt got ripped?"

   Allie nodded.  "Rod was just playing around, but the buttons all came
off.  Rod fucked me standing up, right there in the middle of the room. 
It...  it wasn't the first time.  Alex sat there watching."

   I nodded, not a clue what to say.

   "Then Rod wanted me to do Alex."

   "Did he force..."

   Allie shook her head hard, then looked like she regretted the action. 
"He didn't make me.  He just kept talking about being nice to Alex.  And
Alex didn't have a girlfriend.  And...  and...  I let him." Allie dropped
her head to my shoulder.  I didn't think she was crying, but I just held
her.

   "When he finished, he was talking about how much Timmy and Brian would
like me," Allie said into my shoulder.  "That's when I hid in the bathroom.
The phone was on the counter and..."

   "You called me.  Why me?"

   "I...  I knew, I could trust you."

   Well, there are worse reputations to have.

   "What do you want to do now?  Do you want to go home?"

   "I'm...  I'm scared.  Mom..."

   "Loves you." I finished for her, hoping it was true.

   "I...  I can't face her.  Or Dad."

   "I know a nice little cave.  We can move you in.  Set up housekeeping.
You can hide forever."

   Allie lifted her face off my shoulder and looked up at me, "Fuck you!"
she said loudly enough that I knew Mom heard.  I hoped she wouldn't say
anything.

   "You can stay with Tami tonight.  Go home in the morning," I said in a
normal voice, so that Mom would hear.

   "Tami doesn't like me,": she said flatly.

   "You can stay with Tami," I said firmly.  "Robbie's there too." I was
sure that Robbie knew Allie; it was a small school.  But I had no clue if
she liked her, hated her, or what.

   "Or you can stay at my house.  But you'd have to call home and let them
know where you are."

   "I don't think Mom would like that."

   "Then it's home or the cave."

   Allie gave me a dirty look.  Then buried her face in my shoulder again.
I guess I'd better go home," she said, her voice muffled.  "Mom's gonna
kill me."

   "Nobody's gonna kill anybody."

   We were almost to the trailer park.  I gave Mom directions.  A couple of
minutes later we pulled up in front of Allie's house.

   "Do you want me to come up with you?" Mom asked from the front seat.

   `Yes, Mommy, I want to hold your hand and hide behind you.' I wished I
could say.  "No, thanks," I said, trying to sound casual as I opened the
door.

   I hugged Allie close as I walked to the door, both for warmth and for
support.

   The door was locked.  My dream of slipping Allie quietly into the house
started sliding away.

   "Do you have a key?"

   "In my jacket," she said, shivering.

   Having Allie catch pneumonia probably wouldn't make this any easier.  I
knocked.

   After about a minute, the porch light came on.  I wondered if it would
be a good time to take up prayer.

   The door opened.  "Tony?" Mrs.  Smidt opened the door wider.  "What have
you done to Allison?" she practically screamed as she saw Allie.

   "She's all right," I said, trying to sound calm.

   "My baby!" she reached for Allie, and Allie pulled back, hugging me
tighter.  "You pervert!" I considered pointing out that in most cultures, a
boy and a girl the same age having sex wasn't considered a perversion, but
decided a semantics lesson probably wouldn't help things.

   "Where's her room" I asked, hoping to deflect things.

   "So you can..."

   "Where's her damned room?" I said losing my temper.

   "Upstairs, second door on your left," A man said, coming up behind Mrs.
Smidt.

   As I stepped into the foyer I got a good look at him.  He looked like
the kind of guy the NFL would hire to make linemen behave.

   As I guided Allie up the stairs, I saw them talking animatedly.  I was
beginning to understand why there were so few good Samaritans in the world.

   I parked Allie on her bed, noticing that her room was all pink and lacy
with a couple of posters of hot boy bands on the wall.

   "Go to bed," I advised.  "Try not to talk about anything tonight."

   She nodded.  "I wish you could stay."

   I grinned down at her.  "I have a feeling if I take more than a minute,
the sheriff will be on his way.  Call me, if you need me."

   I closed her door behind me, took a deep breath and headed for the
stairs.  Mom was waiting at the bottom.  "What did you do to her?" she
asked, before I halfway down.

   "I picked her up from a party."

   "What kind of party did you take my baby to?"

   "You're not listening.  I picked her up.  I wasn't at the party."

   "You rapist!"

   "Are you hard of hearing, or just stupid?  Your daughter was at a party
and needed to get out of there.  She called me.  She didn't call you.  You
might want to think about that."

   I looked over at the man, who so far hadn't joined in.

   "I'm going to find out exactly what happened," she declared and started
up the stairs.

   "I think you should wait," I said, blocking her way.  "You're wound up,
she's upset.  Not a good combination."

   "Get out of my way!"

   "Annie, get down here," the man said.

   "John?"

   "He's right.  This'll wait."

   "Did she tell you what happened?" she said, not retreating.

   "No." It wasn't the truth, but in this case, the truth wasn't mine to
tell.

   "What if she had sex?" she said, looking down at her husband.

   The man looked like his cool was slipping.

   "Will you take some advice from a pervert rapist?"

   She glared at me.

   "Don't ask."

   "She's my daughter," she said firmly, as if that solved everything.

   "If she tells you she had sex, will that make you feel better?  If she
tells you she didn't, will you believe her?  I think it's a no-win
situation unless she wants to volunteer something."

   "I'll tell you one thing.  She's never going to another party."

   She was annoying the hell out of me or I wouldn't have done it.  I
smiled smugly.  "Ma'am, I had sex with a few girls.  Not once at a party."

   "Well, I..."

   "Tony, was it?" the man asked.  I nodded.  "Thank you from bringing
Alison home.  You'd better go now."

   I nodded, stepped past Mrs.  Smidt, and walked to the door.  I looked
back.  Mrs.  Smidt was standing halfway up the stairs, looking alternately
up at the top, and down at her husband.  I let myself out.

   "You okay?" Mom asked as I got into the car beside her.

   I nodded.  "I don't think I made any friends in that house tonight."

   "I think you made one," she said as she put the car in drive.

   Chapter 13



   It was almost four the next day before I got over to Tami's house. 
First Mom decided that we should all go to church, even though Grandma
Cooper wasn't visiting.  Then Dad decided that we should all go out for
brunch.  Then Traci wanted to do a family movie.  I got a vote; it just
didn't count.

   There were about four inches of snow on the ground as I trudged to
Tami's house.  By the time I got to Tami's, my feet were cold enough that I
wondered if it was time to break down and buy a pair of boots.

   I stomped up her porch, trying to knock the snow off my tennis shoes.  I
wondered how she took my leaving to go see Allie.  I knocked.  A minute
later, Tami opened the door.  "Hi.  How are you?" I had no idea why I was
sounding so formal.

   Tami cocked an eyebrow.  "Fine.  And you?"

   "I'm good." Suddenly, I had nothing to say.

   "Must have been a hell of a party, if you're just getting home."

   "I, uh..."

   "Of course, Allie's a redhead.  And I know how you are about redheads."

   "I, uh..."

   "You left Robbie and me sitting here to go off and be with her."

   "I, uh..."

   The door closed.

   I couldn't believe it.  Three years in a row.  Just when things were
going good with Tami, fate drops a bomb in my lap.  Three years in a row.
This couldn't be happening.

   The door opened.  "Tony, breathe."

   "I, uh..."

   "If you can complete a full sentence, you can come in."

   "It's damn cold out here," I managed to stammer out.

   Tami opened the door wide and literally pulled me inside.

   I knew I had to be careful.  I had to explain this right.

   Tami fell against me, her mouth pressing to mine, and she guided my
hands to comfortable spots on the seat of her jeans.  "God, I missed you,"
she said when we came up for air.

   "Tami, about last night..."

   "Before you stick your size ten-and-a-half squarely in your mouth, I
know all about last night."

   An intelligent person would have accepted that and kissed her again.  An
idiot would have accepted that and just held her.  "Tami, about Allie..."

   "Tony, at the ungodly hour of nine o'clock, Paula was here telling me
and Robbie how you'd shown up at the party, found Allie, and taken her out
of there.  She practically made it sound like a hostage rescue mission."

   I decided I owed Paula a thank you.  A big thank you.  Jewelry might be
involved.

   "Then about noon, after Robbie left, Allie showed up.  She was looking
for you, but she told me how you rescued her twice last night."

   "Twice?"

   "Once from her parents."

   "Oh."

   "We had a long talk."

   "Oh."

   "You are a sparkling conversationalist today," Tami said with a grin.

   "Does this mean you two are friends now?"

   "I wouldn't go that far.  Let's just say, we've gone from mortal enemies
to run-of-the-mill antagonists."

   "I guess that's a start."

   "You're my hero, you know."

   "Please!  I had enough hero this year.  I was just doing a friend a
favor."

   "Okay, you're my knight in shining armor."

   "That's worse."

   Tami looked surprised.  "You don't want to be a knight in shining
armor?"

   "Not enough babes."

   "Knights don't get babes?"

   "I don't think so.  Can you imagine what they smelled like after riding
around in a tin can all day?"

   Tami laughed.  "You got a point."

   "Of course, when they got back to the castle, maybe they had the
upstairs scullery maid give them a bath."

   "That sounds like a hint.  Would you settle for the downstairs scullery
maid and a shower?"

   "Well, I did get all hot and sweaty, walking all the way here from my
house.  In a raging blizzard."

   "Raging blizzard," Tami repeated, looking out the window at the clear
skies and bright sunlight.

   "Your bathroom, or your mom's?"

   "Mom's is bigger, but it would feel really weird.  Mine is kinda small."

   "Cozy is good," I said with a grin.  "Cozy is very good."

   Chapter 14



   It was after ten before I dragged myself out of bed.  But since it was
the first day of Christmas Vacation, that wasn't bad.  Actually we don't
get Christmas Vacation anymore.  It was winter break.

   Maybe Tami was still in bed and I could go join her.

   There'd been a dance at the high school last night, and Robbie and I had
gone for awhile to perform with the band.  Then we met Tami and Ashley at
Robbie's house for a party of our own.  Mostly Risk and some dancing and
making out.  It was a nice way to start the holidays.

   I turned off my radio and was getting ready to take my shower when I
noticed the noise of the television coming from the living room.  That
surprised me.  Traci must be up, but she'd gone to the dance at the middle
school and hadn't gotten home until midnight.

   I figured I'd go in and say hi to her before I grabbed a shower.

   "Mom!  What are you doing here?"

   "I live here, if that's okay with you."

   "It's just...  Are you sick?  You should be at work."

   "I'm fine, thank you.  And I figured that if you got the day off, I
should too."

   Mom playing hooky?

   "Uh, okay."

   "And what would you like for breakfast?  Your usual omelette with
everything?"

   "Sure.  I'm gonna grab a quick shower."

   "It'll be ready when you are," she said, turning off the talk show and
getting up.

   "Okay," I said and retreated to the bathroom.

   I turned on the water and stepped under it, even before it warmed up. 
Fact one, Mom was home when she should have been working.  Fact two, Mom
was making me breakfast when she had stated many times I'm old enough to
fend for myself.  Fact three, Mom was making me an omelette, and it wasn't
my birthday, Christmas Day, or the day after a really good report card. 
Fact four, Mom seriously hated omelettes.  Fact five, Facts one through
four didn't add up.

   The water was just getting comfortable when I stepped out and started
drying myself off.  Something was going on.

   "That was fast," Mom said when I came out, dressed in jeans and a
turtleneck sweater.

   "Should I wake Traci for breakfast?"

   "Your dad took Traci shopping an hour ago."

   Fact six, Dad was shopping when he should have been working.  Fact
seven, Dad hates shopping, especially with Mom or Traci.  Fact eight,
somebody had to be dying.

   Mom brought out a huge platter loaded with a giant omelette, hash
browns, and both link sausage and bacon.  I had to be dying.

   But I hadn't been to the doctor.  No, I went a month ago, just before
football ended.  I'd hurt my ankle and he took an x-ray.  But an x-ray
wouldn't show a tumor or anything like that.  Would it?  And people don't
get tumors in their ankles.  I was pretty sure they didn't.

   But if I wasn't dying, it had to be somebody close.  Mom, or Dad, or
Traci.  They all looked good.  Traci couldn't be dying; she went to a dance
last night.

   "You haven't touched your food," Mom accused.

   "Sorry, I was thinking." I picked up a fork, and started pushing food
around my plate.

   "We need to have a talk."

   Something about the way she said that made me think she'd used the wrong
article.  Not a talk, The Talk.  Damn, Mom wanted to talk about sex.  Now I
wished I were dying.

   I took a forkful of hash browns and shoveled them into my mouth.

   "We need to talk about sex."

   Damn!  Damn!  Damn!  Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!  "Moooommmm!" I protested
around a mouthful of food.

   "It's time," she said flatly.

   "Dad and I have had this talk." I took a bite of omelette.  "Three
times," I added.  Once in California, when he or Mom noticed I was spending
more and more time with girls.  Once just after we'd moved.  And once last
year.

   "Tell you what.  If you can honestly tell me that any one of those talks
was more than twenty words, I'll let you eat in peace."

   I really wanted to lie to my mother, but I doubted Dad's talks were
twelve words each time.  If you subtracted twenty minutes of hemming and
hawing, it came down to `Don't get anybody pregnant,' and `Don't catch the
clap or something worse'.

   I looked down at my plate and kept eating.

   "That's what I thought.

   "Mom, we don't need to do this."

   "Yes, we do." I knew finality when I heard it.  A judge reading a death
sentence wishes he had Mom's finality.  Of course, he could get overturned.
Not even the Supreme Court could help me.

   "I'm not going to ask if you've been sexually active."

   Thank you, God.

   "And I'm not going to ask with who."

   Thanks again.

   "But we are going to have a nice long talk about sex, and babies, and
other fun stuff like syphilis, gonorrhea, and AIDS."

   I really didn't like the way she said `long.'

   "I'm not complaining." Like hell, I'm not.  "But why today?  What made
you take a day off work for this?"

   Mom chewed her lower lip, looking thoughtful.  "Uh, last night..."

   I tried to think what I'd done last night at the dance that might have
gotten back to Mom.  I may have kissed Robbie, but that was it.  Nothing
major.

   "At the dance..." she continued.

   Damn, nothing happened.  Unless Parker was trying to make problems by
making stuff up.

   "Mrs.  Richland..."

   Mrs.  Richland?  She wasn't at the dance.  She was the home ec teacher
at the middle school.

   "...caught Traci with her tongue in a boy's mouth and his hand up her
shirt."

   "Traci?  My sister, Traci?  She's just a kid!"

   "So are..." Mom bit off her sentence before she could finish, but we
both knew where she was going.

   "Traci wouldn't do that." Hell she was a kid.  A little kid.  She was...
I had to think about it.  Eleven.  Eleven-year-olds don't...  Of course,
Kelly was eleven.  And she and I...  But, that was different.  Traci
wouldn't...  "Are you sure?"

   "Mrs.  Richland seemed pretty sure."

   "Again, not complaining, but shouldn't Traci be sitting here?"

   "She will be, this afternoon.  While you take a long afternoon somewhere
else."

   I still couldn't believe it.  Traci!

   "Now, let's talk about babies..."

   * * *



   "I need a favor," I asked Tami in her living room, two hours later.

   Tami giggled.  "Does it involve my tender young body?"

   "Just your mouth."

   "And just what did you want my mouth to do?" she asked, patting my
crotch.

   "Talk to my sister."

   "Talk to your...  I don't even know Traci.  Just to say hello."

   "I just spent a very, very uncomfortable two hours talking to my mom."

   "Why was it...?  Oh, the talk."

   "The Talk."

   "Did she ask...?"

   "She made a point that she wasn't going to ask if I was sexually active.
Which means she's pretty sure.  And a point that she wasn't going to ask
who with, which probably means she has you and Robbie pegged."

   "Does she know...?"

   "That I'm still with both of you?  I don't think so.  And if she knew
about Mikee and Kelly, I don't think I'd be here right now."

   "What does all this have to do with your...  with Traci?"

   "Apparently she and Dad felt it necessary to take the day off and set
this up, because last night Traci got caught with a hand up her shirt, and
it wasn't hers."

   "Whose?"

   I laughed.  "You know, I was so surprised, I forgot to ask."

   Tami laughed and shook her head.

   "I don't think Mom would have told me if I had asked.  Little sister's
privacy and all that."

   "So, who's she been going out with?"

   "Going out?  I didn't even know she liked boys."

   "Brothers!"

   I grinned and shrugged.

   "So why am I having a talk with Traci?  Won't your Mom?"

   "Yeah, she's planning it for this afternoon, after Traci gets back from
shopping with Dad."

   "So why do I...?"

   "Traci's a pretty good kid, though I'll never admit that to her.  But
like most kids, she's capable of shutting out parent-talk at will."

   "So how much of the talk did you shut out?"

   "About sixty percent," I admitted with a grin.  "But I already knew all
this stuff.  I don't know if Traci does."

   "Okay, I'll talk to her.  But I don't know how much she'll listen.  I
have a handicap almost as big as being a mom.  I'm big brother's
girlfriend."

   "Thanks, Tami.  I'm just figuring out how to be a brother.  I'm not
ready to be an uncle."

   "You know, you could talk to her too."

   "I plan to."

   "She's going to feel ganged up on."

   "Good!  She's too young to be doing this kind of stuff."

   Tami just looked at me and shook her head.

   "And if I find out who was pawing her..."

   "You'll do nothing!"

   "Nothing?"

   "Not if you ever want to touch this tender young body again."

   "Nothing.  Unless he hurts her."

   "Then it's open season," Tami agreed.

   Chapter 15



   "Are you mad at Tami?" Traci asked, looking out the big picture window
in the living room.

   "Nope, she's mad at me.  Why?"

   I'd floated the idea of a threesome with Robbie Friday night, treating
it as a joke, and she hadn't taken it well.  It was Sunday and she still
wasn't talking to me.  I figured I had about two more days before I was
forgiven.

   "Well, I didn't know if you'd care."

   "Care about what?"

   "The car."

   "What car?" I felt like I was in an Abbott and Costello routine that
wasn't working.

   "There's a car that's been circling the park.  Seven or eight times.  It
slows down in front of Tami's house."

   "Maybe it's not Tami's house.  Maybe they're checking out the Temples.
Or those people across from Tami, the Westons?"

   "The Westlakes are across from Tami," she corrected.  "The Simpsons are
across from the pool and the Taylors across from the Temples." It always
amazed me that Traci knew everybody in the park.  "Could be, I suppose. 
There they go again."

   I walked over and stood next to my sister.  The car, a brown four door
sedan, drove past our house, then slowed as it went past Tami's, speeding
up when it got to the Temples'.  I watched it's tail lights until it turned
onto Patty Duke Way and disappeared.

   I looked at my watch.  It was almost nine.  Very strange.

   "Do we have any kind of neighborhood watch?"

   "Mrs.  Dugan, up on Annette Funicello," Traci said proudly.  She liked
knowing things I didn't know.

   "Do we have her number?  I think I'll call if they go around again."

   "It's on the call board.  Why's Tami mad at you?"

   The call board was our family bulletin board next to the refrigerator. A
corkboard with a hundred-odd pieces of paper tacked to it.  With luck, I'd
find the number by March.  It was February twelfth.  Three days past my
birthday.

   "I made a bad joke," I explained.

   "You should be nice to her." Traci and Tami had gotten closer since Tami
had her version of The Talk with her.  Both of them refused to tell me
anything about it, though I had learned the boy with his hand up Traci's
shirt was Gary Rogers, who'd been history since the middle of January.  I
think Brian Lewis was the current interest, but it was hard to keep track.

   "I am nice to her.  It was a joke."

   "You should...  he's back."

   The car was just turning onto our street.

   "I'm going to give Mrs.  Dugan a call, see what she thinks." I started
for the kitchen, wishing Mom or Dad were here, but they'd gone to dinner
with friends.

   "He's stopping," Traci announced.

   I went back to the window.

   The car had parked in front of Tami's house.  The door opened, and in
the light from the car, I saw a big man get out.  The image of King Kong
flashed through my mind before the door closed and he was wrapped in
shadow.

   "I'm going to take a short walk."

   "Mom said to stay here with me."

   "I'm going to take a short walk," I repeated.

   Traci nodded, then went back to looking out the window.

   I walked to the door, hesitated, then went to my room.  When I came back
I was carrying my favorite baseball bat.  I noticed Traci looking at me
funny.  "Walking stick," I told her.

   She nodded, then returned her gaze to the window.

   I stepped outside and a cold wind attacked me.  I hadn't gotten a
jacket. Staying on our side of the street, I walked slowly toward Tami's
house, the bat on my shoulder.  There was some snow left on the grass, but
the streets were completely clear.

   I got to the Westons' house--no, Traci said it was the Westlakes'--and
looked over at Tami's.  The curtains in the front window were drawn.  I
couldn't see anything.  I crossed the street next to the car, noticing in
the dim light that it had an airport sticker on the license.  I wondered if
it was a rental.  I said the license number to myself a couple of times,
committing it to memory.

   As I passed in front of the car I could see in the side window.  Tami
was sitting on the sofa.  I couldn't see her face, but her body looked a
little strange, rigid.  Her mom and King Kong were standing in the middle
of the living room, talking.  I guessed everything was okay.  She seemed to
know him.

   I decided that I'd walk to the end of the street and back, check again,
and if everything looked normal, go home before I froze to death.

   As I walked I noticed that several houses had GO REBELS signs in their
front windows.  The Girl's basketball team was undefeated, and the most
recent poll in the Seattle paper said they were the number one team in the
state.  I hoped they'd go all the way.  It'd been awhile since our school
had won a championship.

   I walked back, and the scene in Tami's living room looked unchanged.  I
took the bat off my shoulder and held it in front of me, grinning to myself
and feeling stupid.  I guessed the hero thing had gone to my head.  I
nodded goodnight to the back of Tami's head and decided to go home.

   As I started to step around the car some movement caught the corner of
my eye, and I looked back.  The stranger had grabbed Mrs.  Sharp by the
throat and pushed her against the wall and was slapping her with his other
hand.

   A smart person would have run home and called nine-one-one.  An even
smarter one, would have brought the damn cell phone with him.  Me, I ran to
the porch, jumped to the top stair, and yanked the door open.  I was in the
house before I had a chance to think what I was going to do.

   The bat was still in my hand, so I swung it hard against King Kong's
back.  It was a short stroke, without the power I wanted to have, but it
made a satisfying THUCK sound and the stranger went down to his knees,
letting go of Tami's mom, then fell to the side.

   I dropped the bat and rushed up to Mrs.  Sharp, who was rubbing her
throat.  "Are you okay?"

   She nodded, without enthusiasm.

   "Daddy!" I heard and spun to look at Tami.  She was standing, her eyes
wide with...  shock...  fear?

   "That was stupid boy." I spun further.  The stranger was sitting
awkwardly on the floor, a revolver in his hand.  I noticed an empty ankle
holster on one of his legs.  I thought those were just in the movies. 
"Assaulting a police officer."

   A police officer?  Tami called him Daddy.  Her dad was a cop and
pointing a gun at me?

   "You're going to jail for a long time."

   Jail!  Hell, I could barely survive detention.

   "And you're going as a cripple." He cocked the gun.  The click was
amazingly loud.  At least it seemed that way when your whole attention was
focused on the hole in the barrel pointed at you.  My mind raced, but not
usefully.  Most revolvers are thirty-eights, right?  That's thirty-eight
hundredths of an inch.  Just over a third of an inch.  So why did that damn
hole look so big?

   "Bill!"

   "Daddy!"

   I heard at the same time.

   "Shut up!" he shouted.  He looked over at Tami, "Sit down." she did. 
"You too," he told his wife, and she moved over and sat next to Tami,
putting her arm around her.

   "Who are you, anyway?"

   "Tony.  Tony Sims.  Tami's boyfriend."

   A funny look crossed his face, and I wondered if it would have been
better to say Tami's neighbor.

   "So, little Tami has a boyfriend.  Just what have you been doing to my
little girl Tony Sims?" he asked as he climbed to his feet.  The way he
grimaced, I guessed his back didn't feel too good.

   "What Tami and I do together, or don't do together is none of your
business," I said, a lot more bravely than I felt.  But he was a cop; he
wouldn't shoot me.

   "She's my little girl.  That makes it my business."

   I stayed silent.  I tried to glare at him, but my eyes kept coming back
to that hole.

   He looked over at Tami.  This is the part when the hero would leap
forward and wrestle the gun out of his hand.  I didn't move.

   "What about it, Princess?  Just what sort of perverted stuff does this
little punk do to you?"

   "Daddy, I love him!"

   I had a feeling this wasn't the best time for that particular
declaration.

   "So you raped my little girl.  And assaulted a police officer.'

   "No," was all I could manage to say.

   "I'm going to blow your fucking knee off.  Then I'll call the sheriff
and tell him how you attacked me for no reason, and you, little
motherfucker, will spend the next ten years hobbling around a prison with a
cane."

   I wanted to say something about my relationship with my mother being
perfectly normal and non-physical, but my mouth had gotten so dry that the
words wouldn't come.  And that damn hole looked even bigger.  "Tami
will..." I managed to croak.

   "Tami and her mother will say exactly what I tell them to say.  Then
we'll have a little talk about how much it hurt when they ran away."

   That explained a lot.

   "Now..."

   "Lay the gun down!" shouted a new voice.

   I looked at the open door.  A uniformed cop was standing there, his gun
pointed at Daddy.  That's when I realized I'd been holding my breath and
let it out.

   "I'm a cop," King Kong said.  "I.D.'s in my back pocket."

   "Right now, all I want to see is that gun on the floor."

   Daddy--Mr.  Sharp?-used his thumb to uncock the gun, then extended his
arm straight out and laid the gun on the floor.

   "Now, on your knees, hands behind your head."

   "I'm a cop," King Kong repeated.

   "Right now you're a suspect who was holding a gun on a teenager and
telling him about blowing off his knee.  I know Tony, I don't know you.  On
your knees!"

   That was when I realized that the cop was Mr.  Boyd, who lived in the
park.

   King Kong gave me an unpleasant look, then sank to his knees.  The cop
stepped forward and flicked a handcuff around one wrist, then pulled his
arm behind his back and clicked the other cuff to his other wrist.  Just
like in the movies.  A car skidded to a stop out front.  It was a police
cruiser.

   Another officer came in, surveying the scene.

   Mr.  Boyd--Officer Boyd?  Deputy Boyd?-stood King Kong up and pulled his
wallet out of a back pocket.  He flipped it open.  The only thing I saw was
a shiny police badge, just like on Law and Order.  Shit!  I really attacked
a cop.  That was probably worse than mouthing off to a vice principal.

   "What happened?" deputy Boyd asked.

   "This punk rushed in here and..."

   "Quiet!" Boyd ordered.  He pointed at Tami.  "What happened?"

   Tami swallowed.  She looked at her mom, then her dad, then me, officer
Boyd, then back again.  She swallowed again and seemed to make a decision.
"My dad was beating up my mom.  Tony tried to stop him."

   "You little bitch!  I'll teach you to..."

   Officer Boyd clamped his hand on King Kong's neck and squeezed.  King
Kong shut up.

   "Bert, take this..." he hesitated, "fellow officer to the station.  Book
him for domestic assault and assault with a deadly.  Tell the lieutenant
I'll be in with the report as soon as I can."

   The other officer led King Kong out the door and shoved him in the back
of the police car.

   The story took about a half-an-hour to get out, with Tami doing most of
the talking and her mom looking mostly embarrassed.

   They had moved from Aurora, Colorado, where Daddy, Bill, was a cop. 
He'd been beating on Tami's mom as long as Tami could remember.  It had
been reported, but since Dad was a cop, nothing ever happened.  They
finally had enough and moved here without letting anyone know where they
where.  Tami stressed that her Daddy had never hit her, though.

   Tami's mom was bolder when it came to telling about my part in this. 
She told Officer Boyd that Bill had been choking and hitting her, and I had
charged in and hit him once with the bat before Bill had drawn the gun.

   "Will you press charges?"

   "Will you do something about it?" she countered.

   Officer Boyd walked me out a few minutes later.  "There's a fine line
between brave and stupid."

   "And I was a long way on the wrong side of the line," I told him.  "I'm
just amazed I didn't wet myself."

   He grinned and held out his hand.  I shook it.  Then I noticed there
wasn't another police car.  "Where's your car?  How did you get here?"

   "Your sister called me at home as soon as you walked out the door.  I
was just getting ready to go to work."

   "She's the smart one in the family," I admitted.

   "That's what I think too."

   Traci's birthday was in March.  A week after Tami's.  I didn't know
what, but Traci was getting a hell of a present this year.

   Chapter 16



   "I'm sorry."

   "What for?"

   "My dad." I could see that her eyes were wet.

   "Tami, your dad's not your fault."

   "You were protecting me.  And you almost got..."

   We were sitting on the swings.  We'd both skipped school, and last night
seemed almost like a dream.  I twisted my swing and scooted closer to Tami.
I picked her up and pulled her sideways across my lap.

   "Tami, first of all, what I did was stupid.  I should have called the
cops, then knocked on the door and tried to sell him a magazine
subscription or something to stall for time.  Instead, I charged in like
John Wayne.  I'm starting to think maybe the Duke's a bad influence. 
Second, while I'm glad I helped you and your mom, I'd like to think I would
have done the same for Mrs.  Westlake or Mrs.  Taylor, and I don't even
know them."

   "You would have.  You couldn't help yourself."

   "What now?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "Are you and your mom going to move back to Colorado?"

   "Nope, this is our home and we like it.  What were you and Mom talking
about while I changed?"

   "Consent papers."

   "Consent papers?"

   "Yeah, she said she'd sign."

   "What kind of consent papers?"

   "To get married.  Now all I have to do is talk my Mom and Dad into it,
and a judge and we can get married next month.  Right on your birthday."

   "Don't I have a say in this?"

   "Nope, you're stuck with me.  And have I mentioned, my religion,
Tonyism, doesn't allow divorce?"

   "No, you hadn't mentioned that.  Tonyism, huh?  Does it allow adultery?"

   "Only with spousal permission."

   Tami got quiet after that.  I gently swung back and forth, just a few
feet in each direction.  "We can wait until the day after your birthday if
you want," I prompted.

   "Anthony Marion Sims, I'll marry you whenever and wherever you want. 
Whether I'm your only wife or just one of a dozen."

   I tried to picture a house with a dozen wives.  It was a scary thought.
I had trouble with just four.  Four-and-a-half, if you count making out
with Ashley.

   "Tony," she said after a while, "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about
my dad.  We said we wouldn't have any secrets."

   "No, we said we'd be honest.  There's a difference.  There'll always be
secrets.  Things you're not ready to tell me, like your dad, or things you
think I'm not ready to hear.  Or things, that aren't your secrets to tell.
I've got a couple of those," I said, thinking of Sally Jeffries and her
friend Dana.

   "Why are you so sensitive?"

   "I read," giving my standard throw-away answer.  "Actually I'm cursed by
the ability to see both sides."

   She kissed me gently on the lips, then laid her head against my chest.
"I guess I didn't tell you about my dad because I was embarrassed.  I mean,
he hits her, he hits my mom.  How could he do that?"

   "My curse doesn't extend to understanding that, but I'd guess it's the
stress of his job.  He just can't deal with it.  I mean, a cop is supposed
to be so in control all the time.  He comes home and relaxes that control,
then anything can set him off."

   Tami lifted her head and looked at me.  Then she kissed me again and
laid her head back down.  "Pretty good for somebody who doesn't
understand."

   "I spent some time last night reading on the internet about abuse."

   "Why?"

   "Because I don't understand how someone could hurt someone they love, or
even loved."

   "Did you figure it out?"

   "No.  But you said you were embarrassed.  I think there's a lot of kids
out there in the same position.  You could help them."

   "Help them?"

   "You could tell your story."

   "I can't."

   I could feel Tami starting to cry.  I held her and didn't say a word.

   "You want me to stand up in a school assembly or something, and say `Hi,
I'm Tami and my dad beats up on my mom'."

   "Actually, you like journalism and you're good at it.  I think you
should write your story."

   "Why?  Why embarrass myself?"

   "I told you.  I went reading about this on the internet last night.  One
of the statistics I saw, said that four million women a year get battered.
That's out of a hundred and forty-three million women in the country. 
That's like one in thirty-six.  If you figure that our school has about
three or four hundred mothers, that means that there are eight to ten women
getting beat up, and their kids are just as embarrassed."

   "You're a bastard, you know that?" Tami said without lifting her head.

   "Yeah, I know.  And if you add in the justice department figures,
seventy percent of those have kids getting hit too."

   "You can stop now."

   "Will you try it?  Just to see how it goes?  You never know, it might
help.  Sometimes, just getting it off your chest..."

   "Okay, I'll try." She was quiet for awhile.  "Tony, make love to me."

   "You mom's home."

   "What about your house?"

   "My mom's home."

   "We could go out in the woods?"

   "That could lead to frostbite in an inconvenient location.  But there's
nobody home at Robbie's house, and I know where they keep the key."

   "You may be a bastard, but you have your moments."

   Chapter 17

   MY DAD HITS MY MOM

   My dad hits my mom.  Five very simple words.  But you wouldn't believe
how hard to say.  Or write.

   My dad hits my mom.  For fifteen years, all of my life, that's been my
reality.  Most kids are embarrassed by their parents.  They're too smart,
they're too dumb, they're not cool.  For my best friend, they kiss in
public.  But I wasn't embarrassed, I was ashamed.  I didn't want anyone to
know.  And they didn't.  It was our dirty family secret.

   My dad hits my mom.  For most of my life I wondered if it was my fault.
If I was smarter, nicer, prettier, maybe this wouldn't happen.  If I was
taller, shorter, if I was a boy, maybe Dad wouldn't get so mad.  Maybe he
wouldn't hit.

   My dad hits my mom.  And the worst part was, I was alone.  No one in the
world had a dirty little secret like mine.  No one in history knew what I
felt like.

   My dad hits my mom.  A friend showed me some statistics from the Justice
Department.  Four million women get hit every year.  Many with kids.  A lot
of the kids get hit too.  I was lucky.  I...

   ...can end.  The first step is walking up to somebody, somebody you
trust, and saying the five hardest words, `My dad hits my mom'.



   "Damn girl.  You can write," I said as I passed the page to Robbie.

   "I never knew," was her comment when she finished.

   "You weren't supposed to," Tami said with an almost-smile.  "That's the
whole point of a secret.

   "Now what?" Robbie asked.  We were sitting outside, eating lunch out of
our brown paper bags.  It was a bright clear and warm March day.

   "Tony thinks I should print it in the school paper, in case there's
somebody out there like me, one with a dirty little secret they're ashamed
to tell."

   "Then a reprint in the New York Times, and a quick trip to Columbia
University to pick up a Pulitzer, splitting the money with me, since it was
my idea."

   Robbie patted me on the head.  "He's so cute when he's delirious."

   Tami grinned, "He's even cute when he's not."

   "So are you?  Going to put it in the paper?"

   "I'd like to.  Tony was right, it helped a lot to write it out.  I'd
like to think it might help somebody going through this.  But, it won't
work."

   "Why not?" I asked.

   Tami fixed me in her gaze.  "You take the same journalism class as I do.
Remember the guidelines?"

   "Guidelines?"

   "For printing articles in the school paper?"

   "I must have missed that class."

   "Slept through it is more likely," Robbie said, patting me on the head
again.

   "I do not sleep in class," I said indignantly.  "Except for biology and
that's a given."

   "If we could bottle Mr.  Bower, we could put the sleeping pill companies
out of business in a week," Robbie agreed.

   "The guidelines," Tami said, reminding us of the point of the
conversation, "that Mr.  Walker gave us the first class of the year--that,
Mr.  Sims, you not only attended, but were conscious for--said that
articles in the school paper must be about school sponsored activities. 
Articles about students or teachers in non-sponsored activities were
permitted on a space available basis as long as they were upbeat and
moral."

   "You sound like you memorized it," I accused.

   "I looked it up yesterday," she admitted.

   "Oh!" was the most intelligent thing I could think of to say.

   "So, I repeat, now what?" Robbie asked.

   "I give it to Mr.  Walker, he says we can't use it, and I file it away."
Tami sounded sad, as she said it.

   "You really wanted to print it?"

   "Not at first.  I started it to get the love of my life to shut up." She
flicked me on the nose, like a bad puppy.  "But it really helped to write
it.  I kinda hoped, it might help somebody to read it.

   * * *



   "What'd he say?" I asked.

   Tami grinned.  "Mr.  Walker said it's the best thing I've ever written
and one of the best essays he's ever read."

   "And?" Robbie prompted.

   "It doesn't fit with school policy for newspaper articles."

   "Well, if it's any consolation.  Your not the first reporter to have a
story squashed." I said, hopefully.

   "Yeah, boyfriend," Tami said, sliding her arm around my waist and her
hand into my back pocket.  "That helps a lot."

   "Sarcasm doesn't become you," I said repeating her movements and
finishing with my hand in her back pocket.

   "Yeah, but it becomes me," Robbie added.  "And you two better watch it,
or you'll get Parker's public-display-of-affection speech number one oh
three." We were standing outside the history classroom, waiting for the
sixth period second bell.

   "Right now," Tami said with a heavy sigh, "I don't really care."

   * * *



   "Kelly, my favorite math genius!"

   Kelly smiled.  She might only be twelve, but she looked as confident as
any high school freshman.  I knew that Robbie and Tami had both helped her
with make-up and stuff, and I'd heard she was dating a boy in the eighth
grade who was almost as smart as her.

   "Tony, you want something," she accused with a grin.

   "Who, me?"

   Chapter 18



   Second period on Friday, and Mr.  Bower droned on and on about the life
cycle of the mosquito.  I glanced around.  Most of the class were nodding
off as usual.  Even Tami and Robbie, who shared a lab table with me and
Luke, looked zoned out.

   It's not that biology can't be interesting-hell, I was in my third year
of research on female mammalian mating habits--but Mr.  Bower had a
monotone voice and never got excited.  I doubt he could give a word
inflection if he wanted to.  It was a good thing his tests were straight
out of the book or everybody would flunk.  And it was a required course.

   For once, I was wide awake.  But not because of the life cycle of the
mosquito.  I was waiting.  I actually listened to Bower; not the content,
but his delivery.  How the hell could he talk and talk without changing his
pitch or tone even a little?  Did he know he did it?  Did he ever notice
that half his class was asleep and the other half, dazed?

   An aide from the office came in and set a stack of newspapers on the
corner of Bower's desk.  Bower either didn't notice or didn't care, because
his delivery on the blood sucking tendencies of the mosquito didn't waiver.
The man was amazing in a tragic sort of way.  The papers always got
delivered second period.  When the bell rang, everybody would grab one on
their way out.

   I wondered if Bower would notice if I got up and started passing them
out.  I glanced at the clock over the door.  Fifteen minutes.

   The door banged open, waking everyone, and Parker strode in.  I was
reminded about the movie about George Patton.  I wondered if they ever made
a movie of my life, could we get George C.  Scott to play Parker?

   Parker looked around as Bower abruptly stopped talking, with a real live
change in pitch to indicate surprise.  Parked focused on our table and
stomped over.

   "You!"

   Tami started when she realized he was talking to her.  He had a folded
newspaper in his hand that he slapped down against the desk.

   "What is the meaning of this?"

   "I, uh, I, uh..."

   "Excuse me, some of us are trying to learn here," I said.

   "I am not in the mood for you," he said, shifting his stare to me.

   I wanted to tell him that I wasn't in the mood for him either, but my
policy is never get suspended on a Friday if you can help it.  Ruins the
weekend.  "We're here to learn and Mr.  Bower was just getting to the good
part."

   "I was?" Bower asked in surprise.  "Well, to continue, the female
mos..."

   "I'm not done here." Parker said loudly.  "What is this about?" He
slapped the paper against the desk again.

   "What?" Tami stammered.

   "This," he said, slapping the paper down for the third time.

   "I..."

   "You might get better results if you showed her the paper instead of
waving it around," Robbie suggested sweetly.

   "Stay out of this," he shouted.  I watched the vein in his forehead
start to throb.  I pictured it as a mamba, ready to strike.

   "Mr.  Parker, If you must yell at students, could you do it elsewhere?"
Bower asked, surprising everyone.

   "Teach your class," Parker snapped.

   "I'm trying to," Bower snapped back.

   Parker ignored him.  "What is this?" He opened the paper and displayed
it for Tami.

   I decided to be helpful so we could get back to the other bloodsucker,
the mosquito.  "It's a newspaper.  A popular form of mass communication. 
The first newspaper in the United States was the Boston News-Letter, first
published in 1704--or was it 1705?"

   "Detention, Mr.  Sims."

   "For answering your question?" I asked innocently.

   He ignored me like he'd ignored Mr.  Bower.

   "Well, Miss Sharp.  Would you care to explain?"

   "Explain what?" Tami asked, confused.  "The girl's basketball team being
invited to Phoenix?" The headline was GIRL'S B'BALL TO PHOENIX TOURNAMENT,
with half of the team picture above the fold.

   "No, this," he said and showed us the bottom of the paper.  Tami's essay
was in the right hand column.

   "I...I..."

   "Come with me.  NOW!"

   "Excuse me," I said, as politely as I knew how.

   "Mr.  Sims, your detention is now for a week.  Want to try for a month?"

   "No, sir." I smiled.  "I just thought you might like to know that I put
that in there, not Tami.  But I realize now that facts just get in your
way. I'll be quiet." I smiled again.

   The room was silent.  You could have heard the proverbial pin drop. 
Though I had a feeling that anyone dropping a pin right then, would be
joining me in detention.

   "Mr.  Sims, my office now!"

   "Could it wait five minutes?  I was really hoping to hear the rest of
the lecture.  Education and all."

   "NOW!" It was almost a scream.

   * * *



   "Why did you do this?" Parker asked waving the paper in my face.

   "How did you do this?" Mr Walker, the Journalism teacher, asked as he
leaned against the front of Parker's desk.

   I was seated in front of the desk while Parker towered over me.  It
would have been more impressive without the beer belly sticking out at me.

   "I just opened the copy file on the terminal, and rearranged the front
page," I said, answering Mr.  Walker's question and ignoring Mr.  Parker's.
"I remembered everything you taught us about composition.  I moved the
article about softball try-outs to page four and cut-down two of the
articles there.  How'd I do?"

   "Very well," Mr.  Walker said.  "You really should have..."

   "Mr.  Walker, the point," Parker reminded.

   "Sorry.  The copy file that goes to the printer is password protected.
How'd you get into it?"

   "I just sat down and started typing." Which was true, after Kelly Dubrey
spent fifteen minutes hacking the file for me.

   "Why?"

   "It was a good story.  You said so yourself.  I thought it was an
important story that might help somebody in the same situation.  Isn't that
what journalism is all about?"

   "It is," Walker agreed.

   "This school has guidelines, and this story didn't meet them." Parker
grumbled.

   "I understand you set the guidelines.  I know you didn't bother getting
input from the students.  Did you ask Mr.  Walker?"

   "Policy is not your problem.  You don't run this school.  I do."

   "Funny, I thought you worked for the district.  And I thought the
elected school board ran the district."

   "Apparently your last suspension didn't teach you anything.  Certainly
not respect."

   "Not for you," I agreed.  Walker's eyes opened wide, but he didn't
comment.

   "Your mother wasn't very happy last time.  Maybe you should have thought
of that."

   "Maybe you should call her and ask her." I grinned, and he looked a
little less confident.

   "And you won't be playing baseball during your suspension this time."

   "If I'm suspended, I'll do whatever I want."

   "Not with our team.  Not during your suspension, and not after.  You're
banned from all activities."

   I opened my mouth, then closed it again.  I took a few seconds to
process.  "What about the paper, it's an extra-curricular activity?"

   "I can assure you.  You're never going near the paper again."

   "What about my journalism class?  It meets in the paper's office."

   "You just flunked journalism!"

   "I..." I closed my mouth, wondering if I was in over my head and going
down for the third time.

   "NO!"

   Parker and I both looked at Mr.  Walker.

   "What?" Parker said.

   "I said, no.  You do not decide what to grade my students, I do.  And
Mr. Sims is not earning a failing grade in my class."

   "See here..."

   "Shall we go see Marty and find out who gives the grades?" I found out
later that Marty was the superintendent.

   "This is not an appropriate discussion in front of a student."

   "I think it's very appropriate," Mr Walker corrected.  "You just said
that he was going to flunk my class.  I'm telling him that as long as I'm
grading my classes, if he does the work, he won't fail.  And so far, he's
done the work."

   "I'm the vice principal of this school, and if I say he fails..."

   "You will Not grade ONE of my students!  If you want to do the grading,
I'll bring you my grade books and you can grade them all.  And I'll be sure
to let all the other teachers know that you'll be taking care of that chore
from now on."

   I always liked Mr.  Walker.  Now I wanted him to adopt me.

   "Fine, he's passing your class, but he's to have nothing further to do
with the newspaper."

   "The newspaper is, and always has been, part of the class," Mr.  Walker
explained.

   Parker looked like he wanted to sit on the floor and kick and scream. 
"You can go back to class now.  I can handle it from here.

   "Yes, I can see you can," Walker said sarcastically and left.

   "Mr.  Sims, you can wait on the bench outside the office.  Mrs.  Hatcher
will call your mother.

   "Thank you, sir.  It's been a pleasure as always, sir," I said with a
grin as I left the office, just to keep him guessing.

   * * *



   Mom was less upset than I expected.  After ten minutes with Parker in
his office she was more than happy to listen to my side.  She commented
that I was playing fast and loose with the rules again, but didn't seem mad
about it.

   "I won't bother asking if it was worth it.  What I don't understand,"
she said as she turned the car into the trailer park.  "Why do you always
do this in March?"

   I hadn't thought about it like that.  "I guess it's the nice weather
that gets to me."

   Chapter 19



   "Why?"

   "Why what?"

   "Anthony Marion Sims, you know damn well what I'm asking."

   I grinned and kissed Tami on the nose as we walked down Elizabeth
Taylor. Then for good measure, I leaned the other way and kissed Robbie's
nose too.

   "Are you familiar with Sir Edmund Hillary?"

   "Because it's there?"

   I nodded.  "Though in this case, because it needed to be done."

   "But you're suspended."

   "It's not the first time," Robbie injected.

   "You're not helping," I said.

   "But, your parents," Tami said.

   "I'm not quite sure what's happening there," I admitted.  "Mom dropped
me off, told me to stay out of trouble, and went back to work.  She didn't
ground me or give me a ton of chores or anything.  But maybe she's waiting
to talk it over with Dad."

   "What about baseball?" Robbie asked.

   "Not looking good.  Parker said I was banned from all activities."

   "For how long?"

   "I think forever."

   Tami looked like somebody had just run over her puppy.  "It's my fault."

   "Don't be stupid," Robbie said before I could.  "You didn't make Tony
put your essay in the paper.  You didn't even know."

   "But if I hadn't written it?"

   "And who talked you into that?  Besides, Mr.  Calloway posted the list
for varsity today, and Tony was on it, even though he missed today's
tryout."

   "I was?" I said in surprise.

   "Yep, and so was I."

   I stopped and hugged Robbie.  Then I hugged Tami.  Life was good.  I
made the team before I got kicked off.

   "We should celebrate," I decided.  "Why don't you call Ricky.  We'll all
go to a movie."

   "Ricky?"

   "You know, your boyfriend."

   "Uh, Tony, Ricky dumped me."

   "Ricky dumped you," I repeated, stunned.  "When?  How?  Why?"

   Robbie grinned.  "Monday.  He told me.  Molli."

   "I don't...  The kid's got brain damage.  Must have taken a baseball off
the noggin."

   "I agree," Tami said quickly.

   Robbie shook her head.  "It's cool.  We've been going out since June. 
That's a record for me.  For him too."

   "You're okay with this?" I asked.

   "Sure.  We aren't, weren't, like you two.  It wasn't special, it was
just fun.  If he hadn't dumped me, I would have cut him loose pretty soon.
It was just...  time to move on."

   "Molli who?" Tami asked.

   "Molli Seaver."

   "A cheerleader?  He dumped you for a brain-dead cheerleader?"

   "Tony Sims!  Molli isn't brain dead.  She's on the speech team and the
debate team.  Just because she's pretty and a cheerleader..."

   "Sorry, Mom," I said.

   "I tell your real mother you're stereotyping women like that and you
won't see daylight until after Traci graduates."

   "That's a fact," Tami agreed.

   "Hey!  I thought you were supposed to be on my side."

   "Not when you're being sexist."

   "I wasn't being sexist.  I was being cheer-ist."

   * * *



   I'm not sure if it was part of her plan, but spending the weekend
waiting for the other shoe to drop made it a very, very long weekend.  Mom
didn't say a word.  Nether did Dad.  And I was free to come and go.

   My mother is trying to drive me crazy.

   * * *



   I was camped on the sofa, stretched out with my feet on the arm, when
there was a knock on the door.  I figured it was probably somebody wanting
to bring me to Jesus, and I was really into rereading Asimov's Caves of
Steel, so I ignored it.

   It was Sunday, and Tami had gone shopping with her mom, and Robbie and
her dad were doing something with Ashley and her family.  They knocked
again.

   "You going to get that?" Traci asked, from the kitchen.

   "Wasn't planning to," I said and turned the page.

   Traci mumbled something about men and lazy and went to the door.

   "It's for you."

   I looked up.  Mikee was standing in the door.

   "Hi," I said, swinging my feet to the floor.

   "Uh, hi," Mikee said and stepped past Traci.  "I need a favor."

   "Sure."

   "I need...  uh...  that is..." She looked over at Traci again, then
lowered her voice.  "I need a rubber," Mikee said, glancing back at Traci
and turning red.

   I felt my eyes open wide.  It sounded like my friend Luke was about to
lose his amateur status.  "Not a problem." I got up and walked past her to
my room.  I had a box in my football bag, I opened it and pulled out four.

   Back in the living room, I handed them to Mikee.

   "Uh, thanks." She looked at Traci again, then made her escape.

   Traci gave me an appraising look as I settled back on the couch.  "That
was nice of you."

   "Unh huh."

   "I wonder how she knew to come here?"

   "Uh..."

   "I guess she figured because you're so hot and heavy with Tami."

   "I guess." This was not a conversation I wanted to have with my little
sister.

   "Still..."

   I never found out where she was going.  There was another knock.  Traci
opened the door, Mikee was back, this time with Kelly.

   "Uh, hi again."

   Traci opened the door and pointed the two girls toward me.

   "I need another favor," Mikee said when she was standing in front of me.
I nodded.  "Can Kelly hang here for awhile?"

   I nodded and smiled at the younger girl.

   Mikee was red-faced again.  "Luke was kinda weirded out about her being
in the house," she admitted, before leaving.

   `Now what?' I thought.  If Traci wasn't here, Kelly and I could have
some fun on our own, but she was, so we couldn't.

   Kelly settled on my knee and looked at me.  "Kenny says, you're
suspended again."

   "Unh huh."

   "He was pretty happy about it."

   "That doesn't surprise me."

   Kelly looked back at Traci, who was standing by the door watching us.  I
think she realized that she had to be good.  "Want to play a game or
something?"

   "Sure.  Traci, you up for it?"

   "I guess."

   I cleared the dining room table while Traci got Monopoly out of the hall
closet.  I made a mental note to remind Luke that he owed me.  Big time.



   Chapter 20



   "It was good of you to see us," Mom started out politely.  "Especially
so early on a Monday morning."

   "I'm always happy to talk to one of our parents," Mrs.  Jeffries, the
principal, smiled.  She was a grey kind of woman.  Not her clothes: they
were bright, almost loud.  But the woman herself was grey, not just her
hair, her personality.  Just...  blah.

   She was also a closed-door principal.  I rarely saw her.  I doubted that
I'd seen her in the halls a dozen times since school started.  Mr.  Parker
was the visible face of the school.

   And that was a very depressing thought.

   "What can I do for you?" she prompted.

   "I wanted to talk to you about Tony's punishment."

   "I see.  I had a feeling that was what this was about." She leaned back
in her chair and steepled her fingers.  "What Tony did was very serious. 
He may have thought he had a good reason, but the fact is, he ignored
school policies and hacked a school computer.  I think a five day
suspension is very fair."

   "Oh, I agree," Mom said, surprising Mrs.  Jeffries.  "I thought the
suspension was very fair."

   "You did?  You do?"

   Mom nodded.

   "I'm very gratified to hear that.  So often parents don't want their
little ones to take the consequences for their actions."

   Little ones?  What were we, eight?

   "No, that's not a problem.  I think even Tony will agree that his
sentence was fair under the circumstances." Both women looked at me and I
nodded.

   "I'm afraid you've lost me then.  I don't understand what this meeting's
about." Mrs.  Jeffries said as her fingers interlocked, then she templed
just her forefingers.

   "It's about the rest of his punishment."

   "I'm sorry?"

   "Mr.  Parker has barred him from all further activities.  No sports,
school shows, no newspaper or yearbook."

   "I see.  I wasn't aware of that, but I'm sure Mr.  Parker has his
reasons."

   I would have loved to comment about Mr.  Parker and his reasons, but I
had a feeling that Mom wouldn't have appreciated the help.

   "Mr.  Parker also threatened to fail Tony in journalism class until Mr.
Walker intervened."

   "Again, I'm sure Mr.  Parker had his reasons."

   "Apparently Mr.  Walker didn't think so."

   "Well, I'd have to talk to Mr.  Parker..."

   "We'll wait."

   "Excuse me?"

   "I said, we'd be happy to wait, if you want to talk to Mr.  Parker about
this."

   "I didn't mean right now."

   "Why not?  We came to get this resolved."

   "Well, I make it a point never to over-rule my subordinates."

   "Then what good are you?" Mom asked bluntly.

   "Excuse me?"

   "What good are you?" Mom repeated slowly.  "If you never over-rule your
subordinates, either they're always right, in which case you're
superfluous, or you're afraid to make a decision in which case you're a
waste of space."

   Go get'm Mom.

   "You don't have to be insulting."

   "I wasn't being.  I was stating reality."

   "I'm not sure we have anything more to discuss," Mrs.  Jeffries said,
standing.

   "Sit down.  We're not finished," Mom snapped.

   "I don't see..."

   "That may be the problem.  Now, Mr.  Parker has set a punishment.  Do
you feel it's appropriate?"

   "Well, it does seem a little extreme, but Mr.  Parker is an able
administrator."

   "If it's extreme, will you overturn it?"

   "As I said, it's my policy not to over-rule..."

   Mom looked at her watch.  "C'mon Tony, we're late for our appointment
with Mr.  Mulino."

   Mrs.  Jeffries looked startled.  "You have an appointment with the
superintendent?"

   "Yes, we do."

   "But..."

   "Like you said, you have a policy."

   Mom stood, so I stood.

   I wondered if I'd be able to survive in this school once Mom got through
with it.

   * * *



   "Mrs.  Jeffries has a policy of never over-ruling her subordinates," Mom
said without preamble.  "Do you have the same policy?"

   "Well, I like to support my people, but sometimes I have to change their
decisions."

   "That's a start.  Are you familiar with Tony's case?"

   "I know he's been suspended.

   "For five days.  That's..."

   "Tony?" Martin Mulino interrupted.  "What do you think?  Was five days
fair?"

   "Yes, sir!" I said quickly.  "I think if I'd been the principal it would
have been more."

   "Are you aware of the rest of the punishment?" Mom asked.

   "No.  Just the suspension."

   "Tony's been banned from all future extra-curricular activities."

   "I see.  That's unusual.  We sometimes suspend a student from an
activity, but only if he's causing problems in that activity.  I've never
heard of banning a student from all activities."

   "So you'll reverse him," I asked, hopefully.

   "No."

   "No?" Mom and I said together.

   "But I will investigate and then decide if such action is warranted.  If
it isn't, then I'll reverse it.  Or let Mr.  Parker reverse it himself."

   * * *



   "Thanks Mom," I said as we walked out into the parking lot.

   "For what?"

   "Going to bat for me."

   Mom stopped and looked me in the eye.  Lately that was getting a little
harder since I was now a quarter-inch taller than her.  "Tony, I think you,
as your dad says, play fast and loose with the rules.  But I also think you
understand that there may be consequences, and you're prepared to take
those consequences.  And I'm just mean enough to let you," Mom said with a
grin.

   "But sometimes, people over-react and the punishment doesn't fit the
crime.  Then I'll be happy to be your mother and fight for you.  I don't
think this punishment fits this crime, so I'll be in your corner until we
straighten it out, or you screw up worse.  Whichever comes first."

   "I couldn't ask for more." I couldn't resist.  I hugged her.  "Thanks
for being my mom."

   Mom hugged back.  "Thanks for keeping your crime spree local."

   Chapter 21



   "Now you've really screwed things up," Ashley accused as she got off the
bus with Tami.

   "What'd I do?  I've been here all day." I hugged Tami and gave her a
quick kiss.

   "You killed student government.  And on my first day."

   "I killed...?  Your first day?  Somebody give me a map, cause I'm lost."

   Tami slipped her arm around me and her hand into my back pocket.  "Did
you know Danny Kelly moved?"

   "I heard he was going to.  He's gone?" My arm wound it's familiar way
around Tami and my hand plunged into her back pocket.

   "Friday was his last day.  He probably would have said goodbye, but you
didn't make it through the day."

   "Thanks for not rubbing that in, by the way," I said and gave her butt a
squeeze through her jeans.

   "My pleasure.  Anyway, he was the freshman representative to the student
council." As we walked toward Tami's house I slipped my other arm around
Ashley's waist.  "Dave Gladstone appointed her as Danny's replacement."

   "And why," I started and pulled Ashley close to me, "would Dave pick a
student who's only been here since October?"

   "He thinks she's cute."

   "No wonder we elected him class president." I gave Ashley a quick kiss
on the cheek.

   We got to Tami's house.  She unlocked the front door, and we went in.  I
sat on the sofa and pulled Ashley onto my lap while Tami got Cokes from the
fridge.

   "So now I know how you got to student council.  How did I kill student
government without even being within two miles of the school?"

   "Pretty much, by being you," Tami said as she came back balancing three
cans of Coke and a bag of chips.

   "Sorry, don't know how to be anyone else." Tami set down everything,
then settled in the chair across from the sofa.

   "Maybe you should try," Ashley said.  "Less wear and tear on friends and
family."

   I kissed Ashley on the nose and started rubbing her butt.  "Wouldn't be
nearly as much fun." I leaned down and kissed the top of her breast.

   "You want me to take a walk for a while?" Tami asked with a grin.

   "Nah, I figured we'd use your bedroom." I kissed the top of her other
breast.

   Tami stuck her tongue out at me, then popped the top of her Coke and
took a sip.  I don't think it would have bothered her if I had taken Ashley
to her bedroom.

   "I still don't know how I destroyed democracy at school."

   "You know we had a meeting today," Ashley said.

   "I know that the student council meets every Tuesday.  I'm still getting
used to you being part of it."

   Ashley stuck her tongue out at me, then leaned forward and stuck it in
my ear.

   It tickled.  and I grinned at Tami.  She shook her head and stuck her
tongue out at me.  I wondered if I could talk her into sticking it in my
other ear.  It might be a close as I ever come to a threesome.

   "Are you going to finish explaining how sitting on the sofa in my
underwear, with my feet on the coffee table and a bag of chips on my
stomach, watching General Hospital destroyed student self-determination?"

   "Thanks for the image," Ashley said, getting off my lap and moving to
the other end of the sofa.

   "General Hospital?" Tami asked as she took Ashley's place.

   "I was channel surfing and got sucked in." Two cute girls in bikinis got
me started, then I got hooked.

   "My football hunk boyfriend watching a soap.  That's just sick and
wrong."

   I grinned.

   Ashley giggled.

   "What?" I asked.

   "I was just thinking that our conversations have trouble staying on
track."

   Tami giggled.  "True.  And it's worse when Robbie's here."

   "Quiet woman!" I said sharply.  "Ashley's trying to tell a story." Then
I kissed her to take the sting out of my words.  Tami opened her mouth, and
my tongue plunged in to wrestle with hers.

   "By the way, man," Tami said when we'd finished, "talk to me like that
again and your tongue ain't comin' home."

   I looked at her hard.  "You've been hanging with Robbie too much.

   Tami just grinned.  Then she showed her teeth and pretended to bite a
couple of times.

   I considered emigrating to Australia.

   "Tell him about the meeting," Tami suggested.

   "I'm not sure I want to anymore."

   "Okay, I will."

   Ashley glared at her, and Tami laughed.  "Tell him."

   "We were at the meeting and got through all the business pretty quick.
Then Ricky suggested that we issue a formal protest over your suspension."

   "Really?"

   "We were discussing it when Mr.  Parker came in.  He listened for a
minute, then told us it was none of our business."

   "Darlene Chambers...  do you know her?"

   " I know who she is.  I know she's student body president.  I've never
talked to her."

   "Anyway, she'd been arguing against supporting you, but she told Parker
that the council had the responsibility to discuss school affairs and let
the administration know what they thought.  I thought he was going to
explode.  He said he'd decide what the council could or should discuss."

   "You would have been so proud of her.  She stood up and said, `I move
that since student government is a mockery, that student council be
dissolved.  All in favor?' There was a dozen ayes, and we all got up and
left.  Mr.  Parker was standing there with his mouth open."

   "Wow."

   "By the end of school, Darlene had written it up formal.  `We the
undersigned, having been informed by the administration that our decisions
and discussions are meaningless, do, this day dissolve the farce known as
student government.' We all signed and she delivered copies to Parker,
Jeffries and the superintendent."

   "Mr.  Mulino," I supplied.

   "Yeah."

   "So it's all my fault?"

   "Pretty much."

   "I'm sorry." It was just words.  I wasn't sure how I felt.

   "Why?  It wasn't really about you.  It was Parker.  If he'd kept his
mouth shut, I think we would have voted to do nothing."

   "We?"

   "I was going to abstain."

   "Thanks a lot, I said.

   I kissed Tami again, slipping my hand up inside her shirt.

   Well, I've destroyed my athletic career.

   And I've killed student government.

   What do I do for an encore?

   Chapter 22



   On Thursday, I was just sitting down for General Hospital when the phone
rang.

   "Hello."

   "Tony Sims, please."

   "This is Tony."

   "Tony, this is Martin Mulino.  I was wondering if you could come see me
this afternoon?"

   "Uh, Mom and Dad are both at work."

   "Unless you think they'll object, I only need to see you."

   "Uh, ok.  When?"

   "As soon as possible."

   "Twenty minutes?"

   "That would be fine.  See you then."

   I hung up, wondering what was happening now.

   * * *



   School was just over two miles from the park.  It took me about fifteen
minutes to get dressed and ride my bike there.  The superintendent's office
was in the high school, at the other end of the hall from the school
office. I chained my bike to the rack in front of the school and went in
the front doors.

   It felt good to be back, though I couldn't admit that to anyone except
Tami and Robbie.

   I'd gotten three steps inside the building when...

   "Mr.  Sims.  What are you doing here?"

   I turned, Mr.  Parker was coming out of a door down the hall.

   "I'm..."

   "When a student is suspended, the school is off-limits."

   "I know but..."

   "I realize that you think being a football hero frees you from all the
rules."

   "I don't think..."

   "You need to realize that the rules are for everybody."

   "I know the rules..."

   "There are rules for a reason, and they have to apply to everyone, even
football heroes."

   I decided I had two options.  Then I decided that option one.  Killing
Mr.  Parker wasn't practical, it was messy.  There was the body to get rid
of.  I turned and started walking down the hall.

   "Mr.  Sims, come back here.  I was talking to you."

   I ignored him and kept walking.

   "Mr.  Sims, you can't just walk away from me."

   `Wrong again,' I thought.

   I turned and walked through the open door into the superintendent's
outer office.  The same old bat was sitting at the desk.  I didn't know her
name, and she didn't have a nameplate on her desk.

   "Hi, I'm Tony Sims.  Could you explain to Mr.  Parker that I have an
appointment."

   "Mr.  Parker?" she seemed confused.

   Just then he burst into the room.  "Mr.  Sims, I will call the police,"
he bellowed.

   "Mr.  Parker, what is this about?" the secretary demanded.

   "This student..." he started just as Mr.  Mulino came out of his office.

   "What's going on?"

   "Mr.  Parker thinks I shouldn't be on school property," I explained.

   "Did you tell him, I asked you to come?"

   "He never gave me a chance."

   "Tony, would you mind waiting for a minute?"

   I nodded.

   "Charley, could you step in for a minute?"

   Parker looked at me, then nodded and followed his boss into his office.

   He came out two minutes later.  He didn't look happy.  He glared at me,
then walked out into the hall.  The phone buzzed, and a second later the
secretary waved me into Mr.  Mulino's office.

   "Afternoon Tony," he greeted me.  "I appreciate you coming down to see
me on such short notice."

   "Not a problem."

   "Sorry about the mix-up with Mr.  Parker."

   I decided that silence was the best answer to that.

   Mr.  Mulino waited a few seconds for a response, then realized he wasn't
getting one.  "Tony, you're a problem for me."

   "Sorry."

   "You broke the rules, and got punished.  But it's not ending there.  I
gather you've heard about the student council."

   "Yeah.  One of the council members is a friend of mine."

   "Have you also heard about the baseball team?"

   I shook my head.

   "Your friend Roberta has been stirring things up.  She and six other
team members are planning to quit if you're not allowed to play."

   "I don't know what to say.  I'm flattered."

   "You should be.  I know Ricky Calloway.  He wouldn't do that for just
anyone."

   I grinned.

   "Coaches Calloway and Branson aren't very happy about you not playing,
either.  They seem to think a lot of you.  You've left me in an awkward
position."

   "Sorry," I said again.

   "Any suggestions?"

   "The only suggestion I could make, you won't like."

   "I assume it has something to do with Mr.  Parker?"

   "Fire him!"

   "I know you and Charley have some problems..."

   "It's not that.  Well, not all that."

   "Well...?"

   "Do you want me to answer that as a student or a people?"

   Mulino smiled.  "What would a student say?"

   I put a completely neutral expression on my face.  "Mr.  Parker is a
wonderful administrator in a wonderful school where I get a wonderful
education."

   "And what would a people say?"

   "Mr.  Parker will cause more problems because he has absolutely no
respect for the students."

   "I see."

   "Or their parents.  My Mom was ready to strangle him after five minute
in his office."

   "I see."

   I wondered if he really did.  "According to my source, the problem with
the student council is not because they wanted to stick up for me, but
because Parker told them, they couldn't even discuss it.  I think everyone
knows that the student government has no real power, but he told them they
couldn't even have an opinion."

   "I can't fire him."

   "Then promote him."

   "Promote him?"

   "Yeah, assistant deputy superintendent in charge of paperclips or
something." Mulino smiled at that.  "I don't know how he got where he is,
but he's not a people person, so he's going to make mountains out of mole
hills."

   "So Mr.  Parker is the cause of all your problems?"

   No, sir," I said emphatically.  "I chose my course of action, and I was
prepared for reasonable consequences.  Mr.  Parker over-reacted.  Like I
said, a mountain out of a molehill."

   "I think you overstate the problem."

   "Consider today," I suggested.  "I walked into the school.  Mr.  Parker
didn't ask why I was here, he started in on a long winded lecture on why I
couldn't be.  If I was a good little boy, I'd still be standing in the
front hall, listening, and you'd be wondering where I was."

   "I'm not firing Charley Parker.  And I'm not promoting him.  Where does
that leave me and the school?"

   "Do nothing."

   "Nothing?"

   "Today's my last day of suspension, so I'm back tomorrow.  I'll talk to
Robbie, Ricky and the rest, and I think they'll play."

   "And you?"

   "Maybe I'll go down to the middle school and see if Mr.  Hallowell wants
some help with his team."

   "And the student council?"

   "If you or Mrs.  Jeffries talk to them and tell them you actually want
to hear their opinions, I think things will go back to normal.  If you
could keep Mr.  Parker from going to their meetings it would help."

   Mulino nodded.  "And you think tomorrow, everything goes back to
normal?"

   I nodded.  "Pretty much.  Until the next crisis." He smiled and nodded
at that.  "Speaking of which, you might want to read today's Seattle
paper."

   "Why?"

   "They reprinted Tami's essay.  And they're nominating her for the
Bothwell Award."

   "You think that's a crisis?"

   "Just the potential for one.  The Bothwell is apparently for the paper
as well as the writer.  It could be embarrassing if we win and the word
gets out that a student was suspended over the article."

   "Is that a threat?" he asked darkly.

   "No sir.  I'm just stating facts.  I hope Tami wins, but if she does,
the school may take some flack.  I don't plan to start it."

   "And I'm guessing you have a suggestion." The sarcasm in his voice was
almost a physical presence between us.

   "I'm sorry if I'm being presumptuous."

   Mulino sighed.  "Tony, I'm sorry.  I asked for your opinions, and I want
to hear them.  I'm just annoyed by the situation.  One of our students is
nominated for a national award.  A prestigious national award, and I can't
be happy about it."

   "I understand." And I did.  It had to be frustrating.

   "Did you have a suggestion?"

   "It's kinda the same one.  Take Mr.  Parker out of the mix.  Let Mr. 
Walker and Toby edit the paper and choose articles on merit." Toby was the
paper's editor, I figured he knew that.

   "I'll think about it.  Thanks for coming in." I guessed I was dismissed.
I stood up and headed for the door.  "See you in school tomorrow."

   "Yes sir," I said as I put my hand on the knob.

   "And Tony..."

   "Yes," as I opened the door.

   "Plan to stay after."

   "Sir?"

   "Mr.  Calloway is expecting you."

   Chapter 23



   I couldn't help laughing.

   "You want to let me in on the joke?"

   "Us."

   It was the kind of night that seemed to define Washington.  Define the
northwest.  The air was clear after the afternoon rain.  The Moon was out
in force enviously trying to outshine her older brother, the sun.  The
stars shone brightly, cheering her on, yet twinkling at her forlorn
attempt. The air was cool, still filled with the moisture of the rain.

   Tami and I were taking our ritual walk, hand in hand, enjoying the
night, the moon, each other.

   The image popped into my head and I laughed.

   "We're funny?" Tami asked.

   "No, not us.  Our relationship," I said, still laughing.

   "Our relationship?  Or OUR relationship?  She asked, the capital letters
in her second sentence obvious."

   I let go of her hand and slid my arm around her, my hand sliding into
the far back pocket of her jeans.  "Both," I said, as I got my breath back
and stopped laughing.

   Tami glared at me out of the corner of her eye.  Not in anger, but in
the frustration of not understanding.  I gave her ass a squeeze.  "Did you
ever see The World According to Garp?"

   "I think so.  Robin Williams?  He was a writer or something."

   "That's the one," I agreed.

   "What does Garp have to do with us?"

   "After Garp sold his first book and married his sweetheart, I think it
was Helen, they were going to buy a house.  They looked at one and weren't
sure, then...

   "An airplane flew into it," she finished for me.  "I remember that
part."

   "Yeah, and Garp decided to buy the house because it had been
pre-disastered.  We're kind of like that."

   "Pre-disastered?"

   "Exactly.  Look at all the stuff that's happened to us.  If we can
survive this, we can survive anything."

   "Don't tempt fate," she warned, holding her fingers out in front of her
to form a cross.

   "I'm not.  I just figure we're pre-disastered.  We've had our problems,
and now we can go the distance."

   "You make me feel like I'm seventy years old, in my rocking chair on the
porch."

   "We'll be seventy all right.  But we'll be running our great grand-kids
ragged."

   "Great grand-kids, huh?"

   "Yep, Tony the fourth, star quarterback and short stop.

   "What about Tami the fourth?"

   "Super-model."

   "Super-model?"

   "Yep, super-model, just like mom, grandmom, and great grandmom."

   "Tony, you're hopeless."

   "I can see the sports illustrated cover now, Four generations in
bikinis. Tami the fourth, mom, grand-mom, and you."

   "I hope," she said stiffly, "that when I'm seventy, I have sense enough
not to wear a bikini."

   "Awww."

   "I've seen you cringe when you saw some old broad in spandex or a
bikini."

   "But they're not you."

   "Anyway, I hope I do more than become a super-model," she said as she
slipped her hand in my back pocket and gave me a quick squeeze.

   "How about super-model slash secret agent.  Keeping the world safe for
democracy."

   "If and when I decide democracy is worth saving, I'll consider it."

   "Going communist on me, babe?  I think we'll have to move to China or
Cuba, but I'll follow you anywhere."

   "No, I'm not going communist.  And call me babe again, and you won't
live long enough to follow me anywhere," she said with a laugh.

   I grinned back at her.

   "Besides, it'll be hard for you to be a pro football slash baseball
player in China or Cuba."

   "Who knows, by then they may have franchises."

   "The Peking Ducks?"

   "Ouch.  But I don't want to be a pro."

   "Weren't you and Robbie arguing about who would be first to be drafted."

   "That's different.  I want to get drafted, I just don't want to play."

   "I don't get it."

   "I play football and baseball for fun.  I don't want it to be a job."

   "So if the Miami Cowboys or Dallas Bears offer you ten million a year?"

   "I'd like to think I'll say no, but we'll have to wait until they
actually wave the green in front of my face."

   "So you want them to want you, just so you can say no?"

   "No.  I want them to want me because I want to be that good.  I want to
say no because there's something more important in my future."

   "What?" she asked bluntly.

   "Not a clue," I admitted.

   "Not even a little one?" she prodded.

   "Well, journalism with you was fun this year."

   "I can picture you running into the pressroom yelling `Stop the
presses!'".

   I grinned.  "And I've thought about medicine, but blood is not my
favorite liquid."

   "Maybe you could be a reproductive specialist.  You seem to like sperm."

   "Only my own.  Maybe I could be a g-y-n, cause you know how I like
pussy."

   Tami giggled.

   "And I know it sounds like a little kid, but I've thought about being an
astronaut.  I mean, maybe, by the time I'm ready, NASA will get off it's
ass and make the manned space program more than a taxi service."

   "You read too much Heinlein," Tami accused with a laugh.

   "And Asimov.  And Bova."

   "I'll bet it was that damn Bova and his Grand Tour that did it too you."

   "Guilty," I admitted with a grin.

   "Anything else?"

   "Well, I could see myself sitting on the Supreme Court, shaping the law.
But, unfortunately they make you be a lawyer first, and I don't know if I
could stomach that."

   "Pretty unfair," she commiserated.  "But just because most lawyers are
crooks doesn't mean you have to be.

   "Oh, I could be an honest lawyer, but I'd have to hang out with crooks.
Don't know if I could bring myself to do that."

   "Poor baby.  I guess you'll have to settle for being the first g-y-n in
space who writes a column for the New York Times."

   "Pu-lease.  The Wall Street Journal."

   "Exxxx-cuuuuuse me."

   "Never." I leaned over and kissed her.  "Well, okay."

   "Any other big plans?"

   "Just one." I pulled away from her, and dropped to one knee.  "Will you
marry me?" I asked, looking up.

   "Tony, we're fifteen."

   "I figure if I start asking now, I'll wear you down by your eighteenth
birthday."

   "Mom says I have to graduate first."

   "That's perfect.  Today's the last day of school.  I'll ask you again
next year.  And the next year.  And the next year.  That'll give you three
years to practice saying yes."

   Tami grinned.  "I won't need three years.  Does this mean you're giving
up Robbie and the girls?"

   "In a heartbeat." I surprised myself by meaning it completely.

   Tami looked surprised.  I'd bet that she was expecting some smart and
somewhat evasive answer.  "Not just yet.  You know, if you marry Robbie
instead, you two could start an athletic dynasty."

   "Don't want an athletic dynasty.  I want you."

   I almost added, and only you.  But considering that she'd just told me
to keep fucking three other girls, I didn't know if it was appropriate. 
Why doesn't somebody write a training manual for these situations?

   We walked for awhile.  It was almost midnight, and I knew in a few more
minutes, I'd have to take her home.

   "You know Robbie was saying yesterday that Ashley looked horny." Tami
whispered.

   "No."

   "No?"

   "NO!"

   "You don't want to make love to her?"

   "I'll never make love to her.  But I'm not interested in fucking her
either."

   "Why?  She's cute."

   "She's a hottie.  But our lives are complicated enough."

   "But..."

   "There are three hundred and four guys in our school.  Some of them are
almost as cute as me."

   "But none as modest."

   "It's a gift," I said, using my free hand to buff my fingernails on my
chest and blow on them.

   "It's just sex."

   "You know that phrase, `It's just sex,' has caused a lot of trouble for
a lot of people."

   "But this is different.  I'd know.  And I asked you to."

   "If you asked me to, I'd even have sex with Brenda Walthan." Brenda `the
Whale' Walthan probably outweighed me, Tami and Robbie combined.  "But why
ask?  She can find her own guy."

   God, I must be in love.  I was working pretty hard to talk myself out of
fucking a sexy young girl.

   "It's complicated," Tami said.  I really hate that phrase, especially
when someone else uses it on me.

   "Tami, there's three hundred and four guys at the school."

   "I know."

   "And three hundred and nine girls."

   "You knew?"

   "Tami, you and Robbie have had me making out with her all year.  It's
been pretty obvious that she might like it, but wasn't excited by it.

   "Robbie thought..."

   "I know what was on Robbie's devious and dirty little mind.  The
question is, does Robbie know?"

   "Does Robbie know what's on her own mind?"

   "No.  Does Robbie KNOW?"

   Tami sighed.  "That Ashley's in love with her?"

   I nodded.

   "I doubt it."

   "So the question is, love of my life, are you going to tell her?"

   "I don't know if it's my place.  Are you?"

   "I'm not going to walk up to her and blurt it out.  But if it seems
appropriate, yeah, I'll tell her."

   "Anthony Marion Sims.  Sometimes I really like you.  You're a sensitive
and caring guy."

   "Shhhush.  I have three more years of high school.  If that gets out,
I'm ruined."

   "You're also a putz."

   "Sensitive, caring, and a putz.  I can live with that."

   "So what about Ashley?"

   "Well, I'm not going to walk up to her, pull her shorts down and stick
it in.  But if the situation is right..."

   "You'll make love to her?"

   "No, I'll never make love to her."

   "But, you said..."

   I knew what I wanted to say, but wasn't sure it would come out right. 
"Tami, when I'm with you, it's about ninety-nine percent making love and
one percent sex.  With Robbie, it's about fifty percent making love and
fifty percent sex.  Cause, I do love Robbie too.  With the girls, it's
about ninety-ten toward sex.  Cause I've really gotten to care for them. 
But with Ashley, it would be all sex.  I like her, but I don't love her. 
Does that make any sense at all."

   "Tony, that was beautiful." Tami pulled me into a tight hug.  "Unless
it's your way of saying I'm not very good at sex."

   I wondered again how two such diverse species as men and women wound up
on the same planet.  "I..."

   "Tony, relax.  I'm not really that insecure.  I promise."

   "I thought maybe I said it badly."

   "No.  I understood what you were saying, and I do think it's beautiful.
And I do think it's possible to be in love with more than one person at a
time."

   "You do know it's not going to change anything with Ashley.  I'd like to
think sex with me is great, but I don't think it's going to change
somebody's orientation."

   "What about you?"

   "Me?"

   "Are you going to like having sex with Ashley?"

   "She's young.  She's beautiful.  She has a hot, tight body.  I'm sure
I'll hate it.  But I'll make the sacrifice for you."

   "My hero."

   "Just keep remembering that for the next three years, until you say
yes."