Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chapter 16 Marcie had decided to stay for dinner, but she was happy to give
Sam a lift over to Gina's house.  It seemed that neither Gina's father nor
her stepmother were home yet, but Sam saw the curtains move in the window
of Gina's room as he got out of the red Miata and waved his thanks to
Marcie.

   Gina opened the door and dragged him inside before he could knock.  Sam
rocked back against the door as she leaned into him, pressing her body
against him in a passionate kiss.

   "Hi," Sam said when they eventually came up for air.

   "Hi.  Lover," Gina said, as if trying the word out.  "How'd the test go
with Mrs.  Gray?"

   "One hundred percent," Sam said.  "Thanks to your expert help."

   "Ha!" Gina said, then kissed him again.  "As I recall, we spent a lot of
that study time fucking like rabbits."

   "Well, yeah," Sam said between kisses.  "But really, really smart
rabbits."

   "Mmm.  You say the sweetest things."

   Gina had practically climbed Sam's body, his hands under her ass to
support her while her arms and legs wrapped around him.  Sam reflected that
there was a lot to be said for dating a gymnast.

   "So...what time do your folks get home?" he asked after a while.

   Gina looked over her shoulder at the clock and groaned.  "Too soon.  Why
didn't you get here earlier?"

   "Sorry," Sam apologized.  "I got distracted.

   "I'll bet," Gina said.  She dropped back down to the floor and took
Sam's hand, tugging him gently towards the stairs.  "Let's go to my room.
Whose car was that, anyway?"

   "Joan's friend, Marcie's," Sam said, letting himself be guided.

   "So...is she one of your...?"

   "Yep," Sam said.

   Gina gave a surprising little shiver.  "Oh.  You know, I thought I'd be
jealous at thinking of you with other women, but I'm not.  In fact..."

   "Yes?" Sam prompted when she hesitated.

   "Well...in fact, it's kind of hot.  I think of you with Joan, or now
with Marcie, and it makes me feel kind of..." she shrugged, then grinned.

   "Hmm.  How do you feel when you think of me with Joan and Marcie?"

   "Oh, Lord." Gina practically dragged Sam into her room.  "Come in here."

   Gina's room was rather like a feminine version of Sam's: a desk piled
with schoolbooks and a large bookcase crammed with paperbacks, with a row
of gymnastics trophies on the top.  Posters of great gymnasts were tacked
up on the walls, and a little huddle of stuffed animals watched from the
nightstand.  Sam had been there many times before, but he paused to look
around appreciatively.

   "This room," he said, "is like you."

   "Yeah," Gina said, "a total mess!"

   Sam turned and swept her up into his arms, provoking a squeak of
surprise.

   "Careful!" Gina said, clinging to him.  "Don't drop me."

   "Not a chance," Sam said.  He laid her down gently onto the bed, then
paused to kick his shoes off before joining her there.

   "I meant," he said between kisses, "it's warm, and friendly, and full of
interesting stuff."

   "Mmmm," Gina sighed against his lips.  "It's a lot more interesting with
you in it."

   The two of them were making out when they heard the sound of the garage
door opening.  A few seconds later, the door into the house banged open.

   "Gina?" came the voice of Gina's stepmother from downstairs.

   Gina sighed, and sat up.  "We're up here, Angie!" she called,
refastening her bra and pulling her shirt back down.  "In my room!"

   When Angie poked her head into the bedroom, Sam was sitting on the desk
chair and Gina was propped up on the bed, both looking quite innocent. 
Angie smiled vaguely at Sam, then said to Gina, "So, I haven't really
planned anything for dinner.  I thought we might order a pizza."

   "OK," Gina said, and Sam added "Sounds great, Mrs.  diCosta."

   "Your dad'll be home soon," Angie added, withdrawing into the hallway
and continuing to her bedroom.  "Maybe you should go downstairs."

   Gina was the baby of her family; she had two older brothers, both
already graduated from college and living in other cities.  She had once
told Sam that she thought her birth had been an attempt by her parents to
save their marriage.  If so, it had been only temporarily successful.  The
diCostas had split up when Gina was seven, an event that Sam remembered
vividly, since it had reduced his normally unshakeable friend to
unpredictable fits of tears.  Gina's father had remarried a few years later
to a much younger woman: Angie was only a year older than Mr.  diCosta's
oldest son, which had led Sam's mother to quietly comment about men trading
in for newer models.  Despite this, their marriage seemed fairly happy. 
Angie was a pretty, passive woman, affectionate in a vague way, not
especially bright but good-natured, and she got along reasonably well with
Gina, largely because she made no attempt whatsoever to act like a mother
to a girl only twelve years younger than herself and considerably smarter.

   Sam and Gina went downstairs to sit chastely in the livingroom, waiting
for Gina's father to get home, while Angie changed clothes in her room.

   "So, how does this work?" Gina asked Sam after a bit.

   "I haven't the faintest idea," he admitted.  "I don't even know if it
will work.  Let's just keep our eyes on your Dad and Stepmom and see how
they act."

   The sound of the garage door came again at this point.  "Looks like
we're about to get the chance," Gina said.  She sounded a bit nervous. 
"I'll follow your lead."

   Sam gave Gina's hand a squeeze.  "It'll be fine," he said, once again
feeling a sensation of inner confidence.  "Trust me."

   Roberto diCosta was in his fifties, but he remained very fit.  He was a
big man with graying hair and a booming voice.  He kissed his daughter
vigorously on the cheek, wrung Sam's hand and clapped him on the shoulder
with enough force to knock down an ox.  Since this was his usual greeting,
Sam took no notice of it, other than to discreetly rub his shoulder when
Mr. diCosta looked away for a moment.  Gina grinned at him.

   "So," Mr.  diCosta boomed, "was the late-night studying a success?  How
was the test?"

   "I got a hundred percent," Sam said.  "Thanks to Gina."

   "Not hardly," Gina contradicted.  "Sam is really smart."

   "Well, you're both beyond me.  Math.  Was never any good at it." Mr. 
diCosta shook his head, not seeming particularly upset at this lack.  "Hey,
Angie!" he called up the stairs.  "What's for dinner?"

   Angie wandered downstairs a brief time later, presenting her cheek to be
kissed, which her husband did heartily.  She explained her plan to order
pizza, received his approval, and wandered off to make the phone call.  Mr.
diCosta sat in a chair, opposite the couch where Sam and Gina sat not quite
touching, and engaged them in a running interrogation about school, sports,
and the weather, interrupting himself from time to time to call suggestions
of toppings out to Angie in the other room.  Eventually Angie returned, to
sit demurely in another armchair and contribute occasional monosyllables to
the conversation.

   At first, there was no indication of any influence at work.  Mr. 
diCosta tended to dominate conversations, but Sam was used to that; and his
interests and comments seemed much the same as usual.  Then, during a pause
in the discussion of which sports teams had a chance, Angie suddenly piped
up.

   "So -- how old are you now, Sam?" she asked.

   "Umm, sixteen.  Same as Gina," Sam answered.

   "So, do you go out at nights?"

   Sam blinked a little.  "Well, yeah.  Sometimes."

   Angie explained, "We've been talking about whether Gina should be
allowed to date, if she wants to."

   "Who's `we'?  " Gina asked.  "Nobody's said anything to me."

   "Me and your father," Angie said.  "I told him that I went out on dates
when I was sixteen.  He's just old-fashioned."

   "No, I'm not," Mr.  diCosta protested.  "I just don't want her to go out
with anyone untrustworthy.  You never know what boys are thinking."

   Angie actually grinned a little.  "I have a pretty good idea what boys
are thinking," she said.  "Weren't you ever sixteen?"

   Mr.  diCosta actually blushed a little, and Sam interceded.  "Well, a
lot of kids in our class are dating, and some of them go steady.  You know,
have a regular girlfriend or boyfriend."

   "What about you?" Angie asked him.  "Do you have a girlfriend."

   Sam hesitated a second, but it seemed like an opening.  "Well...Gina's
my best friend.  And I think she's very pretty.  But we've never been out,
or anything." Stayed in, yes.  Gone out, no.

   Gina colored a little at this compliment, but her father boomed his
agreement.  "Yes, gorgeous little thing, my Gina.  Aren't you, sweetheart?"

   "Daddy!" she protested, blushing further.

   "She is very pretty," Angie agreed.  "Especially when she lets her hair
down, like now.  What about you, Gina?  Do you like Sam?"

   Gina glanced at Sam for guidance, but he just shrugged.  "I like Sam a
lot," she answered obliquely.

   "You'd make a handsome couple," said Angie, who was becoming positively
chatty.

   The doorbell rang, and Mr.  diCosta heaved himself to his feet.  "That
must be the pizza," he said.  "I'll go pay.  Why don't you get some
plates?"

   Sam and Gina fetched plates and set the table in the dining room.  The
diCostas did not eat in the kitchen, something Mr.  diCosta seemed to think
rather uncivilized.  Mr.  diCosta appeared with a stack of pizza boxes, and
they all set to, continuing the conversation from the living room while
they ate.

   Sam was now sure that whatever influence he had was at work.  He could
hear the distant roaring in his head, and watched with interest the slowly
changing attitudes around the table.  Gina, who of course knew what was
happening, was aware of the changes too; several times she met Sam's eyes
with looks of amazement as Roberto and Angie gradually shifted their
opinions.

   From having questioned whether Gina should be allowed to date at all,
the dinner talk quickly took it as assumed that Sam and Gina were actually
dating.  Mr.  diCosta set out some ground rules for Sam.

   "I expect her to be in by eleven.  No going anywhere where they serve
alcohol, or where people are taking drugs."

   "Dad," Gina said, in a tone of exasperation, "Sam wouldn't take me
somewhere like that."

   "Well, I like to have these things out in the open," her father said. 
"I want to be able to trust your boyfriend to treat you right."

   "I'll do my best," Sam said.

   Angie gave him a little smile.  "There are lots of ways of treating a
woman right," she said with a wink.

   "Angie!" Roberto said.  "You don't need to give them ideas."

   "They're sixteen," Angie said.  "Practically adults.  I'm sure they
already have plenty of ideas."

   After this the conversation veered off onto other subjects for a while,
as Roberto asked Sam his opinion of the chances his favorite sports teams
had.  Since Sam took little interest in sports, outside of boxing, he
politely agreed with all of Mr.  diCosta's declarations.  Politely, but a
bit absently, since Gina had started rubbing her foot up and down against
his calf, and keep shooting him glances suggestive of what she would like
to do if her parents weren't there.  Angie brought the topic back to dating
by reminiscing about school athletes she'd dated in her teens.

   "I dated Max Clark," she said, sighing.  "I was a cheerleader then, and
he was a linebacker." Angie looked down at herself a little sadly.  "I
doubt I could even fit into my cheerleading uniform anymore," she said.

   "You're as cute as ever," Roberto said stoutly.  "And as sexy."

   "I've put on weight."

   "But in all the right places," Roberto said.

   "You're sweet," Angie said, sighing again.  "Max thought I was the
sexiest thing.  Of course, we were only teenagers; he'd probably have
thought Mother Teresa was sexy if she'd been willing to put out for him.  I
thought he was handsome.  Not his face, particularly.  He'd played without
his helmet a few too many times, and his face was kind of squashed.  But he
was big and muscular.  Not especially well-equipped," she added, "but then,
I didn't know that, then.  No basis for comparison.  Later I used to joke
about it -- said he should have been named Min."

   "That's another thing," Roberto said, turning to frown at Sam.  "Any
boyfriend of my Gina had better be able to make her happy."

   "Gina's happiness is very important to me," Sam said.

   "It better be.  You'd better be able to keep her satisfied."

   Gina laughed at that.  She was now rubbing her whole leg against Sam's
under the table.  "Sam makes me very happy," she said.  "And I don't think
satisfaction will be a problem."

   "Well, good," Mr.  diCosta said, beaming.  "Always thought he was a
likely lad."

   "Yeah," Angie agreed.  "Sam's really good-looking.  Not big, like Max,
but solid.  And his face isn't squashed, either." Angie gave him a
speculative look.  "What about his...?" she asked Gina.

   "It's up to standards," Gina said.  "Or, I think so, anyway.  Not much
basis for comparison.  But I've got no complaints."

   By the time dinner was over it was accepted by the diCostas that Sam and
Gina were sleeping together, and that they were free to spend the night
together any time they liked at either of their houses.  Whatever his
influence was, Sam was astonished at its effectiveness.  If he'd decided to
screw Gina right then and there on the dining table, he doubted that
Roberto and Angie would have objected.

   Sam and Gina cleared away the dishes, while Angie wrapped up the
leftover pizza and Roberto went out to the livingroom to see what was on
ESPN.  Gina gave Sam a quick kiss and grinned.

   "That went pretty well," she said.

   "Yeah," Sam agreed.  "Amazingly well."

   "So, what should we do now?"

   "I don't know," Sam said.  "It may be that the longer we spend with
them, the stronger the influence will be."

   "All right," Gina said.  "Maybe we can hang out for a while longer."

   Sam was thinking about what they should do when Angie came back in and
suggested that they all play Trivial Pursuits -- the young people against
the parents.  Exchanging a quick glance with Sam, Gina agreed, and went to
fetch the game.

   The game ended up being a lot of fun.  Sam and Gina were more widely
read than Roberto and Angie; but Roberto was enough older that he
remembered old movies and news stories that the others had never heard of,
so the two teams were fairly evenly matched.  After playing for a while,
Gina decided that she would be more comfortable sitting on Sam's lap.  Far
from objecting, the other team responded by Angie sitting on Roberto's lap.
Sam found having his arms full of beautiful girl a bit of a distraction,
especially when Gina took to nibbling on his ears while he read questions,
and kissing him passionately every time they answered correctly.  If
anything, though, Roberto and Angie were even worse off; they soon began
having to have the questions repeated several times, since Angie was having
trouble keeping her hands off her husband long enough to listen.

   Eventually, after a couple of hours of play, the participants decided to
call it a tie with five pieces each.  Gina paused in kissing Sam's neck
long enough to say, "If it's OK, I think we'll turn in kind of early."

   "Er, yes, that's fine," Roberto said around Angie, who was clinging to
him so closely that she seemed to be burrowing into his chest.  "I think we
will as well.  Good night!"