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This story is copyright (c) 2003-2005.  All rights are
reserved by the author, including that of publication.
Posting on-line is only allowed when permission is explicitly
granted by the author, and then only for the complete story,
including this disclaimer.  Contact the author at
<jimc-author at excite dot com> for more information,
referring to this story ("Lucky Tickets 2: Lucky Stiff").

I explicitly grant permission to post this story to
StoriesOnline.net and asstr-mirror.org.

The following is a work of fiction and is just a fantasy.
Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely
coincidental and entirely unintentional.  There may be
references to people in a historical context, but they are
not really characters in this story.

This is a story that describes sexually explicit situations
in a fictional universe that only vaguely seems similar to
the one we live in.  Most of the characters in this story are
under aged.  However, the target audience is adults (people
over the age of eighteen) with broad minds.

* * *

This is a sequel to the story "Lucky Tickets," and as such,
you may want to read that story first to get a better
introduction to the characters present in both stories.  Like
a lot of sequels, it's not really meant to be read out of
order.

* * *

Chapter 4--Blow Up!

        What have I got to do to make you love me?
        What have I got to do to make you care?
        What do I do when lightning strikes me?
        And I wake to find that you're not there.
                -- Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word (Elton John)


    During the next week in school, I noticed a couple of
significant changes.  The first change was that Kristen
seemed to withdraw into herself.

    Kristen's attitude worried me.  During the weeks when I
first met her, she had actually managed to be more animated.
For the first time in her life, Kristen had real friends, and
even invited them to her house and had a couple of pool
parties there.

    I had no idea why Kristen seemed so moody.  The only
thing I could think of was the argument we had on Sunday
morning, but I had really thought that we had worked it out.
Didn't we?  I tried to talk to Kristen during our car rides
and at lunch period, but it was to no avail.  She was moody,
and if she talked, it was only to answer a direct question
and with as few words as possible, just like Amy in the jazz
band.

    Patty also seemed to be trying to figure out what was
going on with Kristen, but Kristen seemed to shrug off
Patty's attempts as well.

    Kristen didn't invite me to dinner on Tuesday, nor did
she show up for dinner at my house on Wednesday.  My family
noticed these events, but they didn't say much, apparently
knowing that something was going on between Kristen and me.

    Kristen's mood was contagious, since I guess I spent a
lot of time thinking about Kristen's demand over the weekend
and our subsequent discussion about it Sunday morning.
Knowing that Kristen was upset about something and didn't
seem willing to want to talk to me was very frustrating.

    The second significant change I noticed that week was
that Sherry seemed more at ease with me during the classes we
shared.  I guess I was happy for that.  Camille repeatedly
sought me out during the week to remind me that cheerleader
tryouts were Thursday afternoon, and to make sure that Sherry
attended.  Since jazz band rehearsal was also Thursday
afternoons, I wouldn't be able to attend with Sherry, but I
promised her that I'd be there in spirit.

    Jazz band rehearsal brought back the "old Kristen" as she
chatted animatedly with Amy as if they were lifelong friends.
For some reason, this bothered me.  Then, during the improv
number, I was surprised to hear a more intricate piano solo
than I had ever heard Amy play.  I looked over to the piano
and was surprised to see Kristen was playing instead of Amy.

    I stopped the rehearsal.  "Kristen?  You can play?"

    "Since I was five," Kristen answered, her face turning
sullen when she looked at me.

    "Why didn't you tell me?"

    "You didn't ask."

    Kristen then turned away from me, and started talking to
Amy, apparently about the improv that she had just played.
She effectively dismissed me.

    That attitude of Kristen's finally ticked me off.  It was
one thing for her to be angry with me, if that was how she
was feeling.  It was still another thing to disrupt the class
and destroy the kind of discipline that I tried to maintain
with the band while keeping the rehearsals fun and
entertaining.

    I called an early end to the rehearsal, and found Kristen
outside, heading for her car.  Apparently, she wasn't even
going to offer me a ride home.  I ran to catch up with her.

    "Kristen, wait!"

    Kristen turned around, a cold look on her face.  "What?"

    "I don't want you to ever do something like that again
during rehearsal!  If you're mad at me, fine, but I can't
have you distracting Amy and being rude to me in front of the
entire band."

    "Are you saying that I'm distracting Amy?" asked Kristen
incredulously.

    "Yes, like when the two of you are gossiping about
whatever it is you to discuss with one another.  Amy is
missing important lessons that she could be learning from the
other band members and me.  She's in there to perform, not
just to gossip with you."

    Kristen turned red.  "Gossip?  She's having trouble with
doing solos.  You know that, and you haven't done much to
help her.  She asked me for help, and I'm helping her.  She
doesn't have the nerve to ask anything of the great Maestro
Crittenhouse."

    "Kristen, if you continue with that attitude and
determination to disrupt rehearsal, I will bar you from the
music room!"

    Kristen looked at me, anger flashing through her eyes.
She knew that I did have the power to do just what I said,
although I didn't know if I could actually go through with my
threat.  I still loved Kristen very much, and didn't really
want to make her not see Amy.  I still needed to enforce
discipline.

    After a few moments, Kristen said, "Fine.  I won't attend
your goddamned rehearsals.  Good luck with Amy."

    Kristen turned away and entered her car.  There was
absolutely no invitation from her for me to come in.

    I stood there, stunned, as Kristen drove away, leaving
tire tracks on the high school parking lot as she squealed
away.

    Well, I now needed a ride.  I knew that Camille would be
either on the football field or in the girls' locker room.
Glancing at the empty field, I hoped she was in the locker
room and hadn't left already.

    I went as close to the door of the girls' locker room as
was proper for a male, and could hear muffled voices of the
girls.

    After about ten minutes of waiting, the door opened and a
few older girls came out.  In the second stream of girls was
Sherry, who was smiling and talking to another girl.  She saw
me and smiled.  "Jim!  Thanks for telling Cammy about me!"

    "No problem, Sherry.  Is she in the locker room?"

    "She should be right out," Sherry giggled.

    Camille did come out next.  She saw me, and said, "Didn't
expect to see you here.  Was rehearsal canceled?"

    "No. We just had a short one today." I was still seething
inside at Kristen's actions, but didn't really want to
discuss it.

    "Where's Kristen?" Camille asked.

    I stiffened in response.

    Camille must have noticed my reaction.  "Um, do you need
a ride home?"

    "Yeah," I admitted.

    "I'm taking Sherry as well.  Meet me in the parking lot
in five minutes.  I need to talk with the other cheerleaders
for a few minutes."

    I nodded.

    Camille leaned up toward me and whispered, "Sherry is a
shoo-in.  She's very talented and she can flip better than
most of the other girls."

    "Cool."

    "Don't tell her, though.  We'll make the announcements on
Monday."

    "Sherry is going to be very happy," I answered.  "She
thanked me for helping to set this up."

    Camille smiled and walked over to where some of the other
cheerleaders were waiting.  I knew better than to eavesdrop,
which was unnecessary anyway due to Camille's assurances that
Sherry would be on the team.

    I walked out to the parking lot and found Sherry.  She
was sitting on a bench with a good view of Camille's car.  I
approached the bench and asked, "Mind if I sit down?"

    "Don't mind at all.  Cammy is giving me a ride home."

    "She told me.  I'm going home with her, also."

    "Oh.  I thought you'd be going with..." Sherry cut
herself off.

    "Kristen already left," I said, avoiding the subject.
"I'm riding with Camille today, also."

    Sherry nodded.

    "So, how did it go?" I asked, knowing already what
Camille had told me.

    "Well," Sherry said.  "When I got there, they warned me
that generally speaking, sophomores usually go into junior
varsity cheerleaders, but they are a joke.  They're usually
just the girlfriends of the jocks playing junior varsity
football.  I was the only sophomore at the auditions today."

    I nodded, but was ignorant of the specifics of the
sporting program at the school.

    "Anyway, during the last couple of years, the varsity
cheerleaders decided to hold real auditions for the team, and
they opened it up to all high school students.  The routine
is more difficult, apparently, and they teach it to us once,
and have us do it repeatedly for about forty-five minutes.
Then they requested us each to do some more advanced moves,
like flips, such as the ones we do on the floor exercises in
gymnastics.  A lot of girls had difficulty with that."

    "So, how do you find out if you make it?"

    "They tally points.  You get two points if a current
cheerleader sponsors you.  You get up to five points for the
routine, and three points for the more difficult stuff.  Ten
points and you're on.  They need to fill four spots, so it
will really be the top four marks."

    "Only two points to be sponsored by Camille?" I asked.

    "Yeah.  I think it's to prevent the team from just being
popular students."

    I nodded.  That mirrored what Camille had said the
previous week.

    "Think you'll make it?"

    "If I do, it will be a coup.  The last sophomore to make
it was Camille."

    I hadn't known that.  "That might explain why she took an
interest in you."

    Sherry smiled.  "I think it's also because she's your
friend, Jim."

    I blushed, but didn't answer.

* * *

    Camille drove Sherry to her house, and we waved as she
got in her front door.

    As she pulled out, Camille did not head for my house.
Instead, she pulled into Lake Shore Point.  There was still
sunlight, so the parking lot wasn't very crowded.

    Camille parked the car and then turned to me.  "All
right, out with it.  What's up between you and Kristen?"

    "What do you mean?" I asked.

    "Kristen and you have both been moody all week.  Patty
tried talking to both of you and you have both stonewalled
her.  I am keeping you here until you tell me."

    Camille had a serious look in her eyes.  I knew that
Camille was a very strong willed person, maybe not as
stubborn as Kristen was, but I knew better than to trifle
with her.

    I sighed.  "I think the two of us had an argument on
Sunday."

    "You think?  You don't know?"

    "I thought we worked it out.  She seemed normal
afterward, and she was even cheerful at the flea market
later.  Suddenly, Monday morning at school she was moody and
she hasn't said more than a couple words to me until this
afternoon."

    Camille noticed that.  "What happened this afternoon?"

    "Kristen disrupted rehearsal.  I told her to either grow
up or stop attending.  She took off after that."

    "Jim, you need to talk.  You'll need to give me more than
three short sentences.  How did Kris disrupt rehearsal?"

    "Do you know Amy Grant?"

    "Transfer student from Wichita, Kansas, right?"

    I was amazed.  Camille seemed to know everybody in
school.  "Yeah, her."

    "Amy is as shy as a kid caught stealing candy.  What
about her?"

    "Kristen and Amy seem to be close friends.  They talk to
one another a lot during rehearsals."

    "Even today?"

    "Even today."

    "Let me guess.  You got angry that Kris is talking to Amy
and not to you.  You accused her of disrupting rehearsal,
even though she's been doing that for a few weeks.  Did you
also threaten to not let Kris go to any more rehearsals?"

    I didn't answer, but I guess my mouth open in shock
answered for me.

    "I see.  I would have told you to go screw yourself.  You
fucked up big time, Jim."

    My heart sank.  "Cammy, I really love her!"

    Camille nodded.  "Let's see.  Last Sunday, the argument
was about sex, right?"

    I didn't answer.  I was in shock.  Camille was a fucking
mind reader.

    It was silent in the car for a while.  Finally, Camille
said, "Yup.  You screwed up royally.  Let me make some
predictions.  Kristen won't talk with you any more.  She
won't take your phone calls, and she certainly won't let you
near her house.  You're up Shit Creek without a paddle."

    "But I didn't do anything!" I protested.

    "That's right.  You didn't do anything.  You just told me
you love her.  When was the last time you told her that?"

    Huh?  "I don't remember."

    "Did you tell her since your argument?"

    "I may have," I said, trying to think.  "I'm not sure.  I
definitely told her before the argument--Saturday night." I
said this automatically, figuring that Camille would have
read my mind anyway.

    "Jim, Jim, Jim," Camille said, shaking her head.  "Where
did you learn about girls?"

    "I guess it was that day when I was with you, Patty, and
Wendy."

    "Kneely Park?  That was your introduction to girls?"

    "Well, that day, anyway."

    "Fuck, Jim!" Camille said, totally surprised.  "I thought
you've been dating girls before!  You seemed quite sure of
yourself that night."

    "Kristen's my first girlfriend."

    "That is puppy love, like Sherry and you.  Are you
Kristen's first as well?"

    "Sort of."

    Camille looked at me, but got no more information from me
about Kristen's first.  She had been around when Kristen had
described her first time with a boy--her brother Will--and I
think Camille realized that.  She turned the key in her
ignition.  "Fuck, Jim.  This is out of my league.  Let's
think about this overnight.  Either I or Patty will pick you
up tomorrow morning."

    Camille didn't say anything else until we got in front of
my house.  "Jim, I wish you good luck, but this has probably
been fucked up for a while."

    "What do you mean?"

    "You are both venturing into uncharted waters.  Neither
of you have any idea what direction you are going, or where
you intend to go."

    "I want to marry Kristen.  She wants to marry me." It
wasn't until I blurted that out to Camille that I had
realized that I had truly felt that way.

    Camille stared at me.  "I'll give you this.  You both
definitely love one another.  You just have this big mountain
between you that you have to climb.  If she didn't hate you
on Monday, she does now after your little tiff after
practice."

* * *

    I slept fitfully that night.

    Camille's words really bothered me.  Did Kristen really
hate me?  I hadn't felt this low about Kristen since I found
out what the tickets had done to her.  I had thought that we
were doing so great.  I was really learning about her on
Saturday.  Didn't she say she wanted me to meet her brother?

    What had changed?  Whatever it was, Camille seemed to
think it might have been doomed from the start.  So why had
it felt so fucking right?

    The way that Cammy had figured out everything indicated
to me that I had done something classically wrong.  I hadn't
told Kristen I loved her.  I got jealous over her helping
Amy.  Kristen was moody about something, but Camille pointed
out that I was moody as well.  I accepted the fact that I may
have been acting moody, but it was because Kristen was in a
bad mood.  It wasn't just me, was it?

    I had another sex dream that night.  I felt Kristen
nuzzling me, taking my dick in her mouth and sucking quietly.
I woke up, swearing that the sensation was real, but it was
apparently just my overworked imagination.

    The words to an Elton John song came into my mind: "Love
lies bleeding in my hands." That was how I felt.  My heart
was not only broken, but it felt like I was bleeding inside.
How could I have been so stupid as to let Kristen get so
angry as to hate me?

    I got out of bed, and turned on my desk lamp.  I got out
the first piece of paper that I could find, which was music
manuscript paper.  I turned it over and wrote on the back:

	Dear Kristen,

	    I'm a complete asshole.  I'm sorry.

	    I love you.  Please forgive me.

	    J.

    It was a simple statement and said exactly what I felt.
This was probably all my fault, and the only way I could see
my way out of it would be to beg Kristen's forgiveness.  I
also said that I loved her; Camille was right in that I
hadn't said that to her in a while.

    Of course, I'd never get up the nerve to hand the note to
her, even if Kristen would have anything to do with me.
Regardless, this was about as much as I could do at this time
and place.  I folded up the note and put it into my attachÈ
case.

    Camille picked me up in the morning, and she wasn't too
optimistic about my chances.

    "I've decided to tell her that I'm sorry, that I'm an
asshole, and that I love her," I told Camille.

    Camille glanced at me impressed, and then said, "She's
going to avoid you.  Patty told me to remind you that she's a
little scared of you."

    That was Patty's way of reminding me that Kristen knew
about my tickets.  Even though I did not intend to use them
like that, Kristen might feel threatened that I might.

    I sighed.  "I'll remember that, Cammy.  Thanks."

    The two of us didn't say much more on the drive into
school.  I noticed Kristen's car parked in her usual spot,
but my girlfriend was nowhere around.

    I thanked Camille for the ride, and walked into the
school.

    Sherry was bubbling over during first period.  She was
feeling very happy with herself.  "I'm in!" she said,
excitedly.

    "I thought they wouldn't let you know until Monday," I
said, remembering what Camille had told me.

    "There's a game on Saturday, and they want me there.  I
got a perfect ten!"

    "That's wonderful, Sherry!" Despite the awful way I felt
about my argument with Kristen, I knew that I should be happy
for Sherry.  At least life was going well for somebody in
this world and Sherry was indeed a nice person.

    "I just wanted to thank you again!" Sherry said.

    I nodded and sighed.  I forced a smile and said,
"Congratulations, Sherry.  It couldn't happen to a nicer
person."

    I took my seat, leaving a partially confused Sherry
behind me.

    After History class, I put my book into my case and moved
toward my math class.  For some reason, the idea of sines,
cosines, and tangents just didn't appeal to me.

    Sherry caught up to me in the hallway.  "What's wrong,
Jim?"

    "Oh, Kris and I had a fight.  She's not talking to me."

    I saw a bunch of emotions rush through Sherry's face.  I
was about to once again head to math when Sherry asked,
"Anything I could do to help?"

    I shrugged.  This would be interesting.  "Yeah.  Kristen
has fourth period lunch.  If you see her, give her this." I
handed Sherry my note.

    I had no idea if Sherry would read the note.  At this
point, I didn't know what I wanted.  Camille's prognosis
about our chances the previous day didn't seem to be very
good, and I guess I was feeling a bit lost.

    There was a quiz in math.  Surprise!  I didn't even
bother answering any of the questions.

    I skipped Music class, and hung out in the lunchroom,
looking for Camille.  She wasn't there.  If I had actually
thought about it, I would have realized that she probably
used her National Honor Society pass to spend the period in
the library.  As it was, I didn't see her in the lunchroom,
so I just wandered around.

    I managed to evade most of the hall monitors.  I wasn't
exactly sure why I was avoiding music class, and I felt a bit
guilty wandering in after the class was half over.  As it
was, I ended up near the music room when the bell rang and
the period was over.

    I was standing near the doorway when Mr. Proilet noticed
me and called me in.  I was a bit sheepish, just having been
caught ditching his class.  He didn't appear upset over that,
however.

    "I heard you let out practice a bit early yesterday," Mr.
Proilet told me.

    "Yeah," I said.

    "Amy Grant told me that she wants to leave the jazz band."

    "She did?" I asked, taken by surprise.  "She has been
doing pretty well, actually."

    "She told me that she thought she wasn't doing very well
at all," my teacher said.

    "I'll see if I can find her to straighten this out.
She's very talented and has been doing great."

    "Are there any problems, Jim?  It's not like you to skip
out on music class.  Usually the band members have nothing
but nice things to say about you."

    I sighed.  "I think I'm having girl problems.  I've been
acting stupidly, and it may be affecting other things, like
Amy."

    My teacher nodded.  "I know you're young, Jim, but the
students look up to you.  If they think you're not happy with
them, it will have a bad effect on their morale."

    "I understand that now.  I didn't even think about
affecting the other band members."

    This earned me a smile.  "Well, you're learning, and
that's what high school is about.  We're not just babysitters
here!"

    I forced a smile.  "I guess not.  Thanks, Mr. Proilet.  I
think I needed the cheering up."

    "Amy has orchestra practice during seventh period.  If
you can find time, you can find her there."

    "Thanks."

    I left the music room, and headed toward the lunchroom.
When I got there, I didn't see either Kristen or Sherry.
Patty was sitting at our usual table.

    "Camille told me about your discussion yesterday," Patty
said, simply.

    "Yeah.  I guess I've been more than a little obtuse."

    "Camille didn't understand some things about you, and she
pointed out to me that with your relationship with Kristen
being a first for both of you, it's easy to make some classic
mistakes."

    "I never realized how observant Camille is.  She
practically read my mind yesterday."

    "Camille is much smarter than she appears.  She's
probably going to be the class valedictorian this year."

    "She's that smart?" I asked.

    "Don't let her blonde hair and good looks fool you."

    "A genius that looks like Marcia Brady," I whistled.

    This earned me a huge laugh from Patty.  "Camille would
probably kill you for describing her that way, but you're
right.  She does look like Maureen whatever from that show!"

    I laughed along with Patty.  It was good feeling a bit
happier, even if only for the moment.

    "Where's Kristen?"

    "She was talking with some other student and left.  I
didn't get a chance to talk with her today."

    I nodded.  I knew that Kristen probably didn't want to
see me, and was avoiding me intentionally.  She might be in
the library, or she could be just about anywhere else.

    After a few moments silence, I said, "Kristen pointed out
to me this weekend that you may still have feelings for Toby.
Is there anything I can do to help you out there?"

    Patty looked at me, and then smiled.  "I'm not really
sure of my feelings there.  Thank you for asking, though."

    Something Patty had told me earlier suddenly clicked.
"The girl that Kris was talking to, who was she?"

    "I didn't see her face, Jim," Patty answered.  "I don't
know.  She was a younger girl with brown hair."

    I knew that description.  "Sherry?  She has curly brown
hair."

    "Oh, shit!  Of course!  What was Kristen doing talking
with her, especially if she's mad at you?"

    I wasn't completely sure.  If Sherry knew that Kristen
and I had a fight, she might see it as an opportunity to
wedge herself between us.  Just last week, she had been
willing to get me into a compromising situation.  She
appeared happy with me this morning, but that was before I
gave her the note.

    Why did I give Sherry that note?  I realized now that it
was a stupid thing for me to do.  I could just imagine what
she might be telling Kristen now.  Of course, Kristen might
be of the mind to think the worst of me, despite the fact it
was Sherry talking to her.  I wondered if Sherry was in any
danger, actually.

    I put my head in my hands.  My problems seemed to be
multiplying.

* * *

    I told my French teacher that I needed to see another
student regarding something about the jazz band.  She agreed
to let me out five minutes before the end of the period.

    At the appointed time, I headed for the music room with a
hall pass in hand, in the event that I met up with any of the
hall monitors.  The "Do Not Disturb" light wasn't on, thank
goodness.  I walked in quietly and saw Amy behind the piano.
The teacher was working with the cello section, so I made my
way to Amy and said, "Excuse me, Amy?"

    Amy looked up, startled.  Apparently, she had been lost
in thought and didn't expect anybody to be near her.

    "Sorry for startling you like that.  Mr. Proilet told me
that you were considering leaving the band.  I wanted to
apologize for what happened yesterday.  I'm not mad at you,
nor am I mad at Kristen.  I was being stupid, and I think you
are an extremely talented piano player."

    Amy looked at me during my prepared speech, and then cast
her eyes down.  "I'm not going to figure out the solos."

    "Kristen seems to want to work with you, Amy.  She's
probably a better teacher for you than I am.  She seems to
understand you."

    Amy didn't answer.

    "Please come back next Thursday.  You offer the band a
touch of class that nobody else seems to have, including me."

    I was aware that I was the object of attention of more
than a few band members in the general area.  Amy, of course,
wilted underneath the spotlight.

    A minute passed, and the class bell rang.  I sighed, and
headed out.

    "I'll be there, Jim," Amy said quietly, but loud enough
for me to hear.

    That was two more words than she had ever said to me in
all the weeks previously.

    I turned back toward her, and smiled.  "Thank you for
giving me a second chance."

    I headed toward English class knowing that I'd be seeing
Sherry there.  I didn't know what to expect.  Would she be
Sherry the vamp from the last few weeks, or Sherry the friend
that I had seen just this morning?

    Sherry was already in the classroom when I arrived, just
a few seconds before the late bell.  She flashed me a big
smile.

    That was no help; that smile was typical of Sherry's
behavior in both roles.

    I went through class, and was glad that the end of school
was drawing near.  Camille would take me home, maybe park
with me at Lake Shore Point and tell me what a jackass I was.
I knew I deserved nothing less.

    When the class bell rang, signaling the end of the
period, I flew out of the room.  I already had my homework
ensconced in my attachÈ case, and was curious if I would get
a glance of Kristen before she peeled rubber out of the
school parking lot again.

    Kristen's Camaro was still in its usual spot, and it was
empty.  I looked around, and didn't see Camille or Kristen.

    I waited a bit, and felt somebody grab my shoulders from
behind me.

    "You are a lovable and adorable fool!"

    Kristen!  It was my little blonde Goddess.  "Huh?" I
said, not sure where Kristen was coming from.

    Kristen spun me around and kissed me on the lips, using
one of her unforgettable erection special kisses.  Blood ran
into that organ that Kristen's kisses tended to stimulate.

    My girlfriend finally broke the kiss and said, "Sherry
found me during lunch.  She told me you were heartbroken when
you were driving home yesterday with Camille.  She gave me
your letter and told me how much you really love me!"

    Sherry did that for me?  Why?

    I nodded dumbly.

    Kristen saw the confusion in my eyes.  "You didn't sign
it, but just used your first initial.  I noticed that it was
on music paper.  It was your note, wasn't it?"

    "If it said that I'm a complete asshole, that I'm sorry,
and I love you, then yes, I wrote that note."

    "You also asked for forgiveness, you lovable lug!"

    "Oh, yeah.  It was late last night when I wrote it,
actually."

    "So, why are you confused?" Kristen asked.  "Sherry told
me you gave the note to her to give to me.  Isn't that right?"

    "I don't know what I was thinking when I gave that to
Sherry," I admitted to Kristen.  "I wasn't thinking,
actually.  She was so happy this morning that I forgot that
she might find this a good opportunity to get between us."

    "She told me what you did to get her on the cheerleading
squad," Kristen said.

    "Sherry did that herself.  She got a perfect ten at the
tryouts."

    "You mentioned to Camille about her gymnastics, and then
Camille sponsored her."

    I just nodded, unable to correct Kristen about the order
in which those things happened.

    Kristen turned serious.  "You know, Jim, when she showed
me that note, I thought, great.  It serves you right.  You
are an asshole.  Then, as she told me what you had done, and
how much she really liked you, I remembered what you said
about her last weekend.  I realized that she really does love
you.  She loves you so much, and she then goes and does
something like that; trying to get us back together."

    This was easily the weirdest twisting logic from a female
that I had ever heard.

    Kristen continued, "It took me a while, but I realized
that if I loved you half as much as she loves you, then I
would accept your apology, and probably ask for one as well.
I was out of line yesterday."

    I didn't know what to say, so I just kissed my lovely
blonde Goddess.  I tried to make it into the female
equivalent of one of Kristen's erection specials, and I hope
that I succeeded.  Kristen did sigh after we broke it off.

    I heard a smattering of applause, and saw Camille and
Patty on the other side of Kristen.

    Camille saw me notice her, and came over to the two of
us.  "Kris, Jim... Can I give the two of you a word of
advice?"

    "Huh?" asked Kristen, who was surprised at Camille's
boldness.

    "Take it from me.  I've seen girlfriends and boyfriends
before, and the one thing that can spoil a relationship is
misunderstanding each other.  If you're angry at something,
let your lover know.  Don't let it fester in your mind until
you say something that the both of you will regret."

    Kristen and I looked at Camille, stunned.

    Camille, having delivered her sermon, simply smiled and
left.  Patty smiled and left as well.

    The two of us looked at one another in stunned disbelief
for a couple of minutes.

    Finally, I broke the ice.  "I think we have the nicest
friends in the world."

    "Definitely," Kristen agreed.  "The nicest friends in the
world."

* * *

    The weekend was upon us.  My parents and Kristen's were
going to meet for dinner at Kristen's house.  I pointed out
that neither one of us had made a commitment to be there as
well.  "You know, if we let them have dinner together without
us, it will give them a chance to talk about us a bit more
freely."

    "So, what do you want to do?"

    "Is there anything to do in Madison?"

    "Wisconsin?"

    "Yes," I said, smiling.  "Do you want to cross a state
line with a minor for immoral purposes?"

    "Not tonight, Jim."

    Huh?  "Oh?  Why not?"

    "Sherry has her first game tomorrow.  Don't you think we
owe it to her to give her our support in the stands?"

    "Hey!  That's a great idea!  Can we take her to Vaughn's
afterward?"

    "Let's do that," Kristen said, smiling, "and then hit
Madison tomorrow night.  That would just be an overnighter,
but there are some good restaurants there."

    I sighed.  "Damn!  I wish I had her phone number."

    Kristen smiled.  "I have it.  Let's invite her parents in
case they attend the game, too."

    "You have her number?"

    "She gave it to me earlier today."

    Later on, when we were at Kristen's, we made up properly.
First, we talked.  It seemed that Kristen had been feeling
rejected from my reaction to her request on Sunday morning,
despite what I told her.  In addition, she admitted that her
feelings could partly be due to PMS, her cycle having started
on Tuesday.  For my part, I pointed out that I was actually
jealous of her being able to talk with Amy, and I explained
to Kristen my conversation with the junior earlier that day.

* * *

    We attended the football game.  The team lost, but the
cheerleaders definitely won.  Sherry was in perfect form and
looked like she had been on the squad for years.  The
cheerleaders even featured her in a routine that had her
doing cartwheels and ending with a series of end over end
flips that culminated in a complete flip, which drew excited
applause from the stands.

    Kristen and I were proud of Sherry, and we were grateful
for how she had played matchmaker to us.  Her parents
declined our invitation to Vaughn's, but let her go with us.

    Both Kristen and Sherry declined the Belly Buster
dessert, even when I offered to help them eat it.  Kristen
had a carrot cake instead.

    Sherry said, when asked if she wanted dessert, "Now that
I'm a cheerleader, I'm going to have to watch my figure."

    This elicited laughter from both Kristen and me, and even
Sherry was smiling at her comment.

    It was time for me to talk.  "Sherry, Kristen and I thank
you very much.  You don't know how much we are indebted to
you for what you did for us."

    Sherry shook her head.  "No, Jim.  The only thing I did
was help you pass a note to Kristen.  If anybody should be
thankful, it's me."

    "You?" Kristen asked.

    "Me.  If it wasn't for Jim mentioning my gymnastics to
Camille Lombardi, I wouldn't be on the cheerleading team."

    I smiled.  "Well, it's a draw.  I still thank you."

    "I thank you, too," added Kristen.

    "I thank you both," Sherry responded.  She paused,
thinking for a few moments.  "Kristen, I also need to
apologize to you.  I didn't like you very much."

    Kristen shrugged.  "I'm not always a very likable person.
For the longest time, I hung out with the wrong crowd."

    "Not that," Sherry said.  "I mean, I started disliking
you this year, when I saw you were dating Jim.  I didn't know
you, except for what some people told me, and I guess I was
more than a little bit jealous."

    Kristen didn't answer, but nodded.

    Sherry looked from Kristen, to me, and then back to
Kristen.  "The two of you really like one another, don't you?"

    I nodded while Kristen answered, "We really do."

    "The two of you were so miserable when you were fighting.
I hadn't seen Jim look that way before.  I'm glad the two of
you got back together."

    I said, "Well, it took somebody like you to help out, and
we're really grateful."

    Sherry nodded, and I noticed the beginning of tears in
her eyes.

    "You know, Sherry, I said something to Kristen the other
day.  I said, 'I think we have the nicest friends in the
world.' And I really mean it."

    The bill arrived, and Kristen handed her American Express
card to the waiter without even looking at the bill.  He left
quickly to process it.

    Sherry watched this without comment.  I remembered her
mentioning that I was only with Kristen because of her money,
and I wondered if she still thought that.

    When Kristen's receipt arrived, she glanced at the total,
added a tip and signed her name, removing the receipt and all
the carbons.

    Kristen and I took Sherry home, and then headed north to
spend the night and most of Sunday in Madison.

    You know, I have always hated when Kristen and I have
disagreements.  The two of us are both strong-willed and
stubborn, and that isn't a good combination when things start
going wrong.

    However, there is an up side: making up with Kristen is
always lots of fun.

    Case in point: on our thirty-hour trip to Madison, we did
our best to violate the Mann Act as blatantly and as often as
possible.  You could say that we made it a point to put the
"sin" back in "Wisconsin."

--
jimc_author@hotmail.com

JiMC is only a pseudonym.  Respect my privacy and I'll respect yours.

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