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Message-ID: <49711asstr$1100121004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Gina Marie Wylie" <gmwylie98260@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Spitfire and Messerschmitt Ch 20 {Gina Marie Wylie} (teen, mf, cons)
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Date: Wed, 10 Nov 2004 16:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "Davey Ch 20.doc" begin>

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

	The following is fiction of an adult nature.  If I believed in
setting age limits for things, you'd have to be eighteen to read
this and I'd never have bothered to write it.  IMHO, if you can
read and enjoy, then you're old enough to read and enjoy.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

	All persons here depicted are figments of my imagination and any
resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly a blunder on my
part.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

	Official stuff:  Story codes: teen, mf, cons.

	If stories like this offend you, you will offend ME if you read
further and complain. Copyright 2004, by Gina Marie Wylie. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

	I can be reached at gmwylie98260@hothothotmail.com, at least if
you remove some of the hots.  All comments and reasoned
discussion welcome.

Below is my site on ASSTR:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gina_Marie_Wylie/www/

My stories are also posted on StoriesOnline:
http://Storiesonline.net/

And on Electronic Wilderness Publishing:
http://www.ewpub.org/

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Spitfire and Messerschmitt

Chapter 20 :: Friday Night Lights

Friday morning I woke by myself, while it was still dark out.  I
didn't bother looking at my clock; I went and pissed, then headed
back to my room, expecting to get some more Z's.  Instead, Wanda
passed me as she was going out to the pool.  I turned on my heel
and followed her outside and watched her spread chlorine pellets
into the water.

"Did I do it right?" she asked.

I smiled.  "I leave the chemicals on the table next to the pool
and put them back in the shed once the water's ready.  That, and
I don't do it this early.  It's at least forty minutes until it
will be light enough to swim."

"You got up this early all summer; I thought it was the least I
could do."

"I got up this early in the summer because I didn't have anything
else to do and it was already getting light.  Give yourself
another half hour in bed, Wanda."

She looked around, scanning the darkness.  Crickets chirped
occasionally, otherwise it was quiet.  "You must think I'm pretty
stupid."

I laughed.  "No, I think you aren't thinking about what you are
doing.  There's more to it than tossing in chlorine and using the
skimmer to get rid of crap in the water."

She nodded, turned and walked away.  I couldn't blame her; I was
tired myself.

I went in and showered, but when I got out, it was still dark.  I
went outside anyway and lay back on one of the chairs, staring at
the sky.  Tiny little points of colored light, so very far away.
It had to mean something, but I couldn't figure out what.

Waking up was odd.  My eyes were closed and I was asleep. 
Something happened; I wasn't sure what, but something said I
should wake up.  I contemplated how tired I was and decided to
ignore it.  A few seconds later, the cycle repeated.

I opened my eyes and saw something coming.  It was falling
directly towards my eyes.  I started, lurched and fell off the
chair onto the concrete pool deck.  Wanda, standing a few feet
away, roared with laughter, while Emily looked at her with
disapproval written all over her face.

"You can be really cruel, sometimes," Emily told Wanda.

Wanda grinned as I stood up.  "Chinese water torture is supposed
to be cruel.  Davey had such a shit-eating grin on his face.  I
don't know who he was making love to in his dreams, but it was
time for the boy to be brought down to earth!"

My mind finally had reached equilibrium and I could remember. 
The looming object, dropping down towards my head, looking like
it was headed between my eyes, had been a drop of water.

"What if it had been you I was dreaming about?" I asked her.

Wanda shook her head.  "Don't forget autopilot, little brother!"

I stuck my tongue out at her, and she came up and took my hand
and lifted it to her lips and kissed it.  "Davey, I tell you
true, I'm not going to forget any more about the things you do
for me.  Sometimes my desire to tease gets a little carried
away."

I took two steps and launched off the side of the pool, hitting
the water cleanly.  I swam at my usual pace for about half the
length of the pool.  I hadn't cooled off; I was still upset.  Not
at Wanda, not at Emily.  I don't know what I was upset with.  I
dug down and started swimming as hard as I'd done lately.

I finished about twenty minutes later.  I was drooping, breathing
hard, and I sat on the edge of the pool to get my breath.  Emily
had vanished into the house to get ready for school, but Wanda
was still there.

"You swim..." Wanda's voice trailed off, "like there's nothing
else in the world.  I've seen Jack do that at football practice.
He buries everything, just everything.  Then he goes and takes
care of business.  He takes hits that should pulverize him.  If I
ask him about it later, he just shrugs."

I shrugged myself and went inside, not wanting to talk.  I went
into my closet and stared at the chin-up bar.  I wasn't supposed
to strain my right arm.  But what had I just been doing? 
Swimming until I couldn't hardly go any more.  I reached up and
gripped the bar with my left hand, brought my right hand over
gripped my left wrist with it.

I quickly found it was much harder to do a chin-up one handed.  I
surely didn't rip off twenty of them like I'd done with regular
chin-ups.  But I did do five.

It was exhausting and I was exhausted.  I was still sitting on my
bed, half asleep when Wanda came and shook me back to
sensibility.  "Get dressed!  You can't cut school!"

I threw on some clothes and was out at Wanda's car in a few
minutes.

I was still dragging when I sat down next to Mercedes.  "I've
done a lot more research on PCR," she told me.

I looked at her, feeling small again.  And what have you done,
Davey?  Got a lot of sleep.

"I overslept," I told her.  "I'm a little tired."

In fact, my eyes felt like lead weights.  I wanted to close them
and rest.  I felt Mercedes' wrist on my forehead.  "I don't think
you have a fever."

"He skipped breakfast," Emily said.  "He swam like usual but he
was asleep on a pool chair; we had to wake him up.  Then he fell
asleep on his bed."

I wanted to say something rude to both of them.  Mercedes for
mothering me, which I hated from either my mother or my sister,
and Emily for talking like I wasn't there.

I decided that I couldn't fall asleep standing up, so I stood up.
 Mercedes was right up next to me.  "Are you okay, Davey?"

"Just tired is all."  Maybe I really was coming down with
something, I wasn't sure about that, but I wasn't my usual self.

I managed to stay awake in Biology without trouble; English was
more of a stretch.  I was alert in Algebra and took lots of
notes.  Mercedes smiled at me and I smiled back.

When I went to leave Algebra, Emily grabbed my arm.  "This
summer... after it happened, for about two weeks it seemed like a
dream.  That it really hadn't happened.  My mom was a pain, but I
could deal with her.  Then I missed my period."  She looked at
me.  "I tried to pretend it wasn't true.  One day, Mom found me
passed out in front of the TV.  Dr. Jacoby told me it was stress.
 That I had to rest, I had to think things through and make my
decisions.  Above all, I had to reduce the stress."

She smiled at me.  "You look all stressed out, Davey.  Just like
I was."

Shellie had been standing watching but not saying anything.  We
hurried to Mrs. Saunders class, where I was wondering how I could
possibly stay awake.

Chinese water torture supposedly works because of ten thousand
drips of water getting to you.  Mrs. Saunders is more like the
Niagara Falls of boredom.  At her best she was boring; today it
was a review of stuff she'd already read to us.

I fought a tremendous battle to stay awake; finally resorting to
going into Excel and calculating stuff for algebra.  My task bar
blinked again and I went and found another cartoon from Shellie.

The subject of this one was obviously meant to be me.  I was
carrying the globe of the world on my shoulders, a large rock in
one hand labeled "Emily" and another rock in my other hand named
"Shellie".  I had a ball and chain on each ankle, one ball
labeled "Family" that was relatively modest and a huge ball
labeled "Everyone else."  I was looking at a steep hill with a
road up it, the path labeled "Life."

I forwarded that one to myself as well.  But it got me to
thinking.  Shellie had sent it to my computer, not me.  She'd
done that the first time too.  My friend Shellie was, I thought,
a bit of a hacker.

I spent a few more minutes looking at the cartoon.  It was simply
amazing; she'd done so much work in such a short time.  When the
class was over I grinned at her.  "That woke me right up."

She smiled at me and we headed for lunch.  Fesselhof was still
sitting alone at our old table.

Rob joined us and saw Fesselhof and laughed.  He walked up to him
and spoke quietly.  "Do you know what a 'Pyrrhic Victory' is?"

Fesselhof glowered and didn't say anything, but I was pretty sure
he had no idea what Rob was talking about.

I sat down between Mercedes and Shellie while Rob went to his now
customary place.  I smiled at Mercedes.  "Wake me up a few
minutes before the bell."

I put my head down on the table and was asleep instantly.

Earlier, Wanda had found a less than pleasant way to wake me up.
I don't know what Mercedes said to Shellie while I was asleep,
but when it came time to wake me up, they both started tickling
my ribs.

Most kids are tickled, I suppose, at some point in their lives by
their parents or siblings or friends.  I had parents, but they
were never in a tickling mood around me.  Wanda preferred to
leave bruises.  Friends?  I'd never looked for them, and now that
I had some, I was kicking myself for years of stupidity.

All that means, of course, was that I was putty in their hands. 
But, I was awake when I sat down in Colonel Terrell's geography
class; something I'd been worried about.  I didn't think he'd
take someone sleeping lying down.

Colonel Terrell, thankfully, was lecturing, something he'd not
done much until then.  We'd talked about horse and wagon travel
across the US in pioneer days, going to Oregon.  Now he talked
about the harsh facts of life about going to New Mexico, Arizona
and California by the southern route, and why everyone looped
north through Oregon.

Obviously, you could travel faster when the terrain was flat or
downhill, but uphill was tough.  You got off the horse and
walked, going uphill.  You could cover anywhere from 20 to 30
miles a day, while taking good care of your horse.  Horses, the
Colonel told us, are more loyal than dogs.  A horse will kill
itself trying to get you to where you want to go.  It goes until
it can't go any further and then it drops dead.  If you weren't
close to help, well, on foot, you were pretty certain to end up
dead, too.

Roughly three hundred and fifty miles across New Mexico.  Another
three hundred and fifty across Arizona, almost two hundred miles
to Los Angeles from the Colorado River, a notoriously treacherous
river to cross.  If you followed the Rio Grand in its big loop
south and then back north to El Paso, you got a jump across half
of New Mexico, and if you stayed south, there were some rivers in
southeastern Arizona you could get water from.  Of course, that's
where the Apaches lived and they really didn't like anyone who
wasn't an Apache.

You could carry about fifty pounds with you on a horse.  You
used, if you were careful, at least a half-gallon of water every
day.  That's four pounds.  You ate a pound or so of food a day,
maybe two pounds.  A careful person could carry a week's worth of
supplies for himself.  Of course, your horse had to eat and
drink, too.  Which meant that you had to get water and grass for
the horse every two or maybe three days, tops.

It sounded downright scary!

And it kept me awake, which was a good thing.

PE started as usual, warm-ups then a run.  After the run, Coach
Wells and Coach Delgado pulled me off to one side.

"How's the arm, Harper?" Coach Wells asked.

"Okay, sir.  I've swum some, I've done some batting practice, but
that's all."

"Ricky Mendoza, a senior, was going to start tomorrow against
Lake Terrace.  He has a bad thigh bruise from football practice
yesterday.  I want you to throw just a few warm-up pitches today
and take it easy."

"It's very important, Davey," Coach Delgado told me.  "This is
kind of a test for you.  We want you to pitch the first couple of
innings tomorrow.  If you start having problems with your arm,
tell us.  You have to be a responsible member of the team, Davey.
 Sure, we know you'd like to pitch, but if you lose control... it
can really hurt us."

I decided that I wasn't going to tell them unless I was sure.  I
still had a little trouble believing I was doing something as
radical as pitching.  Instead, I nodded and told them they could
count on me.

Coach Delgado worked with me some more on my curveball; I think I
threw maybe ten pitches before I stopped.  Then it was fielding
practice where I did okay.  Once a ground ball took a bad bounce,
and instead of going into my glove, it went almost straight up. 
I waited for it to come down, barehanded it and threw, missing
Mercedes by a couple of feet.

After that, I was sent to jog around the field; I don't think
they trusted my arm.  But I'd known I'd thrown it wrong at the
instant I let the ball go.

Then it was three o'clock and the last bell.  Wanda drove Emily,
Mercedes and me home after school.  "I'll be leaving for the game
at 6:15," Wanda told us enroute.  "You can ride along with me if
you want   or you can make your own arrangements."

"With you," I told her, after spending a few seconds exchanging
glances with Mercedes.

We got home and Wanda yawned.  "I'm going to unwind a bit before
the game," she told us.  "For the life of me, I can't think of a
single reason either of you would need to come down to our end of
the house.  I can't imagine any reason why I'd want to talk to
either of you before six or so.  Right?"

I nodded and Mercedes laughed.

Wanda and Emily headed for Wanda's room and I looked at
Mercedes.

She didn't say anything, she just started unbuttoning her
blouse.

I grabbed her hand and in a few seconds we were in my room, the
door closed and locked.

I took off her blouse and then reached behind her to unhook her
bra.  Once again when I saw her breasts I stopped and stared. 
Nothing in my wildest dreams had equaled what I could see.   I
leaned down and kissed one, tonguing her nipple as I did.

She ran her fingers through my hair and that felt nice.  Not so
much sexy, but just as a sign that she cared for me.  I was hers
and she was mine.  I sucked a little harder, while I started
undoing the snap on her jeans.  She helped push the jeans down
and I carefully positioned her on the bed so I could go down on
her.

Her bush was a tangled mat of black hair, not nearly as soft as
the hair on her head.  I leaned close and got a mouthful of fur
instead of pussy.  Mercedes giggled, which was definitely not the
right thing to do.  I stopped and looked up at her.

"Wanda must not have much," she gestured at her bush.  I shook my
head, meaning I wasn't going to say, but when you don't say the
words, the other party is free to take whatever meaning they want
from what you've said.

"Use your fingers, Davey, spread my lips apart, keep the hair
back at the same time."

I did that, seeing the intimate folds and the entrance to her
vagina.  It was, I thought, really sexy to see a woman bared like
that, so I could look.

I leaned close and ran my tongue along her lips, circling her
clit, and then sucking on it.  "Like that, yes!" Mercedes said,
her voice a little breathless.

So I did "like that" for some time.  Licking and sucking,
stroking the skin of her legs lightly with my fingers, then
pushing my tongue as deep into her as I could get it, which
wasn't very far.  "Use your fingers," Mercedes hinted, and I did,
going back to using my tongue instead on her clit.

She was very wet, but I was salivating a lot as well.  It didn't
matter, she came after about twenty minutes or so, a climax that
she'd built up to slowly.  Then I started my finger moving faster
inside of her, licked and sucked harder.  She starting rubbing
her own breasts, and again part of me was surprised how much
rougher she was with her breasts than I'd ever been or wanted to
be.

Her second climax was a couple of minutes later, her third,
seconds after the second.  I stood up, still dressed, and started
to strip.  I crawled between her legs, and she wrapped them
around my rump to pull me tightly to her.  She was soaked;
entering her wasn't a problem.  I pushed as deep as I could go
and wiggled, and Mercedes hissed with pleasure.  I started slow
strokes, but she wasn't interested, pulling me into her, trying
to set the pace.

I found myself letting go, doing what she wanted.  The slap of
our hips meeting was like soft pistol shots, our breathing was
rapid and we were sweating, air-conditioning or not.   She moved
faster, I moved faster and then it really was autopilot.  I moved
against her, pushing deep and she pulled me in even tighter.  She
let out a little cry and started to quiver in her orgasm; I was
much louder as I started to spurt into her.

Mercedes shook me awake later; somehow she'd managed to get out
from underneath my sound-asleep deadweight, and she'd lain next
to me until Emily had knocked on the door and told her it was
getting close to time to go.

So it was I found myself showering with Mercedes, but without
time to fool around.

"I'm sorry," I told Mercedes, "about falling asleep."

"Davey, I think Emily was right.  I think you are stressed out."

I didn't feel stressed out, I just felt logy like I'd gotten up
after not enough sleep.  So, being macho man, I told her I wasn't
stressed out and I wasn't sleepy anymore.

Wanda was a few minutes late, but she didn't seem to mind. 
Emily, Karen, Mercedes and I went to the snack bar and got
something to eat.  We found that the same seats we'd had the week
before were open so we sat down and talked.

A few minutes later, Shellie appeared and walked over and sat
down next to me, between Emily and me.  I slapped my forehead. 
"Gosh, I was going to print up what the masked cartoonist sent me
today, and I forgot!"  I'd been going to say Shellie's name, but
I stopped before I did.  There weren't people next to us, but
they were only four or five feet away.

"Masked cartoonist?" Mercedes asked.

"Like Zorro, except the masked cartoonist strikes in the middle
of the morning and rides off leaving more than a signature
behind," I joked.

Shellie leaned close and whispered into my ear, "Thanks!  Now I
have a mask?"

I nodded and Shellie laughed, and then leaned close again.  The
soft warmth of her breath, the touch of her hand on my arm wasn't
something I'd have thought erotic.  Maybe my brain didn't think
it was erotic, but I was hard as a rock.

"I brought my backup."

I grimaced when I saw the CD case.  It wasn't very big, but I had
no place to put it.  Mercedes saw what Shellie had and nodded at
the jewel box.  "I can put that in my purse until later.  I
promise I'll give them to Davey tonight."

"Thanks," Shellie said and passed them to Mercedes, who slid them
into her purse.

Shellie nodded at the purse.  "The book says you should have
off-site back up.  I've been hiding a copy in my back yard, in a
hole.  It's just a matter of time until someone finds them."

"They're safe," I told her.  "I promise."

Rob appeared and came towards us.  I saw he was carrying a video
camera in his hand.  It wasn't a mini-camera, it wasn't a huge TV
reporter-type camera, more a middle of the road sort.

He stopped in front of us and looked us over.  "I'd like to take
some film of you guys," he told us.  There was something in his
voice that said he was serious.  Even so, he bowed towards Emily.
 "Not just you.  None of you need to say a thing.  Later, at an
appropriate moment, feel free to cheer your lungs out.   This is
about football."

"Sure," Mercedes said.  "I don't have a problem."

Shellie seemed less sure; Emily looked at me for direction.

I shook my head.  "Emily, I'm your friend; I'm not the guy
telling you what to do.  Rob's cool; if you say no, he'll have to
choose someone else among the thirty thousand or so people who'll
be in the seats tonight."

"Piece of cake," Rob agreed.  "Please."  He smiled at Emily and
she nodded agreement.  "Good!"  He laughed.  "Because, this is a
one-time thing, tonight."  He waved at the field.

"Do you know that the football team has no backup quarterback?"

"Jack's back," I said.

"And he's a running back until the coach says he's ready.  So,
I've been asked to go out for QB."

I blinked.  That was, to my mind, more than a little dangerous. 
Still, he was smiling and didn't look like someone on death row.
Rob took pictures for a few minutes; not just of us, but also of
the stands filling up and the empty field.

Rob started to put the camera away but Emily wanted to look
through it.  He showed her how to use the little flip screen,
then even rewound the tape he'd shot a few seconds before and
played some of it for her.

After a few minutes the two of them were in their own world as
Rob explained this and that feature of the camera to her.

I turned to Mercedes.  "I wish a science fair project was as easy
as it seems to be to shoot some film."

"Yeah.  I keep thinking about all that PCR stuff.  I think my
idea is pretty much the same as hoping we can team up in the NFL,
you pass and I catch a Super Bowl winning touchdown.  Maybe in
our dreams... but it's not going to happen.  We need to find
something we can do that's real, that's interesting.  And
something we can actually do."

"You want to do a science fair project?" Shellie asked.

"The reasons are kind of complicated," I replied, "but, yes."

"In biology?" Shellie continued.

"Yes," I told her.

She sighed.  "I'm not really interested in biology and my mother
and step father would have cows if I was.  My father, my real
father, was an aerospace engineer as well as a pilot.  I want to
do that."

"Maybe we could find something biological that has to do with
flight," Mercedes interjected.

"Like figure out how bumblebees fly," I said with a grin.

"They flap their wings," Mercedes said, looking serious.

"No they don't," Shellie contradicted her.  Then she turned
around and contradicted me.  "Scientists know how bees fly; for a
long time they thought bees flapped their wings like a bird which
wouldn't work.  Instead, bees fly like a helicopter, their wings
go around in circles, not up and down.  It's why bees can hover
and fly backwards."

"There goes another project topic out the window," I groused.

Rob spoke up, "Emily and I are going for a walk.  Save our
seats?"

"Sure!" we chorused.

They walked away, Rob holding the camera and Emily talking to
him.  Inwardly I smiled to myself.  Wanda was going to be
pleased!  And, I was pretty sure, Mom wasn't going to be unhappy
either.

Sic transit gloria happiness.  Fesselhof appeared.  "Harper, you
just gotta share some of that pussy!"

I was too controlling my temper to speak busy for a second. 
Karen did it for me, "Go fuck yourself, asshole!"

"Harem scarem, eh, Davey?" Fesselhof laughed.  "I'm not scared!"

I started to get up, but Shellie spoke to Fesselhof.  "I have a
present for you."  She reached into her purse and pulled out a
folded sheet of paper and handed it to him.

He unfolded it, read it, and then turned purple, literally.  He
dropped the sheet and stepped towards Shellie.  "You bitch!"

Both Mercedes and I were both up, cutting him off before he could
reach Shellie.

"I'm feeling like a good fight today, cabron!" Mercedes told him.
 "You turn around and walk away now!"

He sneered, but his eyes looked behind us.  Without another word,
he turned and walked away.

I was barely able to contain my anger and so, I was sure, was
Mercedes.  I did look behind us, seeing nothing remarkable, just
a half dozen people who were watching us.

I stooped down and picked up the paper.  It was a colored
cartoon, showing someone named "Fesselhof" chasing small kittens
with a baseball bat, having obviously just swung at one and
missed.  The frustrated expression on his face said it all.  And
in case you maybe didn't get the message, beneath it was the
legend: "Fesselhof chasing pussy...cats."

I laughed and shook my head.  I handed the cartoon to Mercedes
who laughed as well.  We sat back down, once again on either side
of Shellie.

"That's a cool cartoon," Mercedes told her.  "You are wickedly
funny, you know?"

Shellie shrugged.  "Anime humor is usually wicked."

Mercedes reached out and hugged her.  "Me, too!"

After a while the stadium was filling; it was hard to keep seats
for Emily and Rob.  When they came back, I smiled again -- Emily
was carrying the camera and talking animatedly to Rob about it.

I paid a little attention to what they were talking about.  White
balance sounded like an affirmative action program; depth of
field sounded like a football term.  Shutter speed sounded like a
camera term anyway.

When they called out the names of our offensive lineup, Jack's
name brought a roar of approval and people were on their feet,
clapping.

Then we won the toss and elected to receive.  Both Chuck and Jack
were back to take the kick; evidently their kicker didn't want to
kick it to Jack, so it went to Chuck.

Like the opening kickoff last week, Chuck caught the kick well,
on the goal line.  He put his head down and started forward. 
He'd gotten out to about the ten and three of the Abilene players
were barreling downfield towards him.  Out of nowhere Jack lunged
forward, his body parallel with the ground, bringing all three
down in a heap.  Some of the Abilene players weren't paying
attention because they too jumped onto the pile.

Chuck jinked, then kicked in his afterburners and went racing
downfield, a half dozen Abilene players in futile pursuit.

Their kicker wasn't as determined as the Lake Terrace kicker had
been and never got close to Chuck.

The crowd didn't need cheerleaders; they were in heaven.

And so it went, football West Texas style.  Long on offense,
defense not nearly as good, the half ended with us down a point,
because they'd done a two-point conversion.

The halftime festivities started and a lot of people headed out,
bathroom or snack bar break.

Shellie looked at me.  "I think I finally figured out football,
it's really an aerobic sport for everyone, even the audience."

Emily tapped me on the shoulder.  "Rob and I are going to take
some more pictures."

"Can I come along?" Karen asked Emily.

Rob and Emily agreed and they left.

I had nodded, paying only partial attention to them.

Shellie watched them go and then glanced around.  For a moment,
at least, there was no one close.

"I don't like being between you two," she told us.  "I feel like
I'm intruding."

Mercedes giggled.  "You aren't."  Mercedes dropped the volume of
her voice.  "We like you, both of us."

"Yes, we do," I told Shellie.

She shook her head.  "That way."

"That way," Mercedes agreed.

"I don't know," Shellie told her.  "I never thought..."

"Me, either," I told her.  "I expected it would be hard to meet
girls, ask them out on dates."  I shook my head.  "Yet here I am,
with not one girl, but two.  I don't feel shy at all."

"Three of us together?" Shellie asked, her voice as low as
Mercedes'.  

"Non-traditional," Mercedes agreed.  "But I have these
dreams..."

Shellie sighed.  "Me too.  They never seemed to make sense."  She
smiled slightly, "I'm still not sure they make sense."

"Nobody is going to rush you or push you into doing something you
don't want," Mercedes told her.  "Davey and I have a little
history, you don't.  I always thought boys were the ones supposed
to be impatient and pushing... Davey isn't like that, Shelley. 
He's as shy as you are."  Mercedes tapped her chest.  "I, on the
other hand, am not.  But I've been where you are now, wondering
if I was making the right choice.

"I made the choice to find out; it wasn't what I expected at all,
in several ways.  It was a lot nicer than I expected, not nearly
as gross as I imagined.  I liked the person I was with, but not
as much as I should.  I liked it, but I didn't like the person
I'd been with enough to want to be with her again.  It happens. 
She understood, Shellie.  The only way you learn new things is to
try them.  Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn't."

Shelly was looking at Mercedes; I wished I could see her eyes.

She turned to me and I did get my look.  She looked curious, more
than anything.  "Davey."  I nodded.  "What if I like you and not
Mercedes?  Or Mercedes and not you?"

"I don't know," I told her honestly.  "I like to think and plan;
lately I haven't been doing much of either.  Sometimes things
happen and you can't be prepared for them, you have to react as
best you can.  Deal with what life gives us."  I waved down
towards the field.  Emily, Karen and Rob were in a cluster, with
Emily aiming the camera at the other side.

"I played Magic with Emily a few times in junior high.  It was
something you learned... you learn to do the best with the cards
you had.  I play poker with my father and a couple of other men.
Once with a woman.  The ones who do well, it seems to me, are the
ones who watch and wait, and then use what they've got as best
they can."

Shellie nodded, then sighed.  "My parents would freak if they
found out I was going to the dance.  They would freak if I took
biology.  They will totally freak if they find out about this."

"Mine, too," Mercedes said.

There was a moment of silence, and I could see both of them
looking at me.  I shrugged.  "I don't think mine would.  They
would be upset if someone got hurt, they would be upset if they
thought I wasn't being responsible."

"I wish my father would play more poker at your place then,"
Mercedes said, laughing as she spoke.  "And if it's just the same
to you, I'm not eager to find out whether or not your parents
would freak finding three of us in your room."

"Oh yeah!" I said with feeling and all three of us laughed.

Mercedes wrapped her arm around Shellie's waist, and I did the
same thing.  "The three musketeers have been overworked,"
Mercedes told us.  "How about the three amigos?"

"Works for me," I said.

"I'm crazy, mi amigos." Shellie was smiling.

People were coming back, and the conversation shifted to the
game.  Chuck had stood out in the first game and he was doing so
again tonight, scoring two touchdowns in the first half.  Jack
had been doing a lot of blocking.  Little did we know that was
the plan.

Then Abilene messed up big time.  Their kick return guy bobbled
the ball, and our team was all over him.  They ended up on the
five-yard line.

They tried two pass plays, then went totally brain-dead and tried
a run.  Hey, it gained two yards!  But no one does anything but
punt on fourth and eight, on the seven-yard line.

Their punter kicked it to Jack.  And learned the awful truth:
Jack wasn't as fast as Chuck, but he was a tank.  Chuck made a
simple block that sprung Jack loose and got up, motored down the
field and blocked someone else who was about to wrap Jack up.

By the end of the third quarter, the Abilene defense was in
shambles.  The coach would put in both Jack and Chuck and they
had no way to know whom to double team.  Twice they double-teamed
them both and as a result, we made big gains on running plays.

The final score was forty-nine to forty-three and once again the
stands shook and trembled as half the people in town screamed and
shouted, jumping up and down all the while.

Afterwards, we stayed seated in the stands while everyone else
headed out.

"Next time I come to a game, I'm going to bring earplugs,"
Shellie told us.

"It is loud," Emily agreed.

"Back home, football is popular, but not like this.  Y'all are
crazy!"  Karen told us.

"Yep," Mercedes said.  "But if we weren't here on Friday night,
where would we be?  Sitting around someplace, bored out of our
skulls."  She waved back towards the school.  "There's a reason
90% of the kids in school dream of leaving here and never coming
back."

"I do," Shellie said.

"Yeah!" Emily agreed.  "The sooner, the better."

"Hollywood!" Rob said.  "One day my name will be up there on a
movie screen and you can point and tell your friends you knew me,
back in the day."

"Back home, if you don't know what else to do, you go to church.
Choir practice, youth group, Wednesday night services; there's
always something going on."  Karen made a face.  "God, I'm so
glad to be anyplace else!"

Wanda and Jack appeared, Pammie and Chuck a few steps behind. 
"Ready for the dance?" my sister asked.

"Yes!" Mercedes said loudly, "assuming you taught your brother
how to."

Wanda laughed.  "Me teach Davey anything?  Surely you jest!  Mom
made him go to dance class in seventh grade.  It's a question of
how much he's forgotten."

Rob held out his hand to Chuck.  "Man, you guys were awesome!"

Chuck laughed, "We were.  Ran rings around them, we did.  And
whenever they got really dizzy, Jack would ring their chimes."

Jack stepped forward and faced Rob.  "Speaking of chimes rung,
guess who played cross-eyed most the last quarter?"

"Darryl," Chuck chimed in.  "You will be at practice, Sunday,
Rob.  The coach is thinking of keeping Jack at the back position;
we need another QB."

"Dancing!"  Pammie said loudly.  "I want to dance.  My old man
will hear about it and I'll spend the next week telling him I
won't do it again... of course, next week is an away game.  No
dance."

Mercedes nudged me.  "You know how to dance?"

I looked at her and shrugged elaborately.  "I don't remember if I
can or not."

Pammie tugged on Chuck, and a second later we were headed for the
gym.

<1st attachment end>


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