|
Bingo’s
Stories
(www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bingo/www)
In the Cafeteria I smiled into my milk. Pirate Queen Chastity was about to take on a new mate. So I hoped. You wouldn’t believe it but it was lonely at times being the high school whore. She was shy, not in my classes, I think she was a sophomore. I’m a junior. She was often in the halls or in the cafeteria a ways off, staring. I could tell she was shy because she didn’t come right up to me, leer, and say “I hear you fuck guys indiscriminately.” Which is true, but how do you go on from there? “Yep, I always say yes.” Then what? Anyway, she was slightly heavier than me, a little shorter. Dark haired but not black like mine. Her eyes were a gray. A real, thrilling gray. Not blue, not green. Pale, intense gray. She was striking, but I didn’t see a scar or tattoo, so I was going to reserve judgment. I have a scar on my face that makes me look absolutely outstanding, I think. I couldn’t tell by her dress if she was creative or not, one wouldn’t be able to tell by mine in school either. Out of school, I did the best I could to be exceptional. She’d been hovering closer and closer now, for the past week. But she was shy and I was afraid she’d hover forever. I got up from my seat and went toward her standing by the main door to the cafeteria. “Hi, my name’s Chastity, want to sit with me?” I hoped so. Pariah corner, the end of the table was noticeably devoid of people. Perhaps other girls thought the lack of virginity was catching; maybe I had slut cooties. Perhaps because since spending time with Jim I’d started to turn down guys who came over to chat me up, not that I never needed much chatting, to see if I’d head out behind the gym with them. Sometimes with them and their buddies. That’s if I even made it to lunch at all. Busy, busy me. Anyway, who can tell what people in high school think? High school isn’t for thinking except about sports and prom and isn’t the student president a dreamboat. Makes you wonder why they even bother having classes. She smiled nervously, but was coming along after me. “I’ve noticed you in the halls. You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve seen.” “Ah, thank you.” She blushes, too. “I’m not praising your eyes because you aren’t good looking. You are. Your eyes are exceptional.” I pulled back my chair and sat down. “Would you like some dried fruit? I’m becoming a health nut, I’m even thinking of becoming a vegetarian.” I passed the bag over and she took a piece. “Thanks for not going ewww.” “I like dried fruit, too.” “Not all those are school books, what are you reading?” I kept back my temptation to rifle through her pile, though my fingers did twitch. I took a drink of milk. “Oh nothing, well I’m reading some on theater in Shakespeare’s time.” She drew out a book. It was one of the Harvard Classics, the one with The Shoemaker’s Holiday. I’d read it, too. “Great. Have you read Beaumont and Fletcher’s Philaster, yet?” “Not yet, is it good?” She was starting to relax some. “Yes, I enjoyed it. I saw myself some in Megra ‘that troubled sea of lust.’ No doubt you’ve heard about me?” “Some rumors, I don’t like gossip.” “In this case the rumors are probably pretty close to the truth. Which is why I sit alone here in Outer Mongolia. That and the fact that no one seems to want to hear me rant about nuclear bombs.” “I don’t like bombs either. I’m a Quaker.” “Neat. And your name?” “Oh my name,” she blushed again. “I’m Sam, short for Samantha. Sorry.” “Oh, don’t worry. Sam or Samantha, at least your parents picked a name from this century.” “I like Chastity,” Sam said. “I like the ‘titty’ part.” “I never though of it like that, but yes, they did give me a name with tits.” “Mr. Roberts thought you might be able to help me.” Tits I could see made her a little nervous. Mr. Roberts was the tenth grade literature teacher. He wasn’t bad at all and should have been teaching twelfth grade English literature. I asked him about it one time. He just raised his shoulders, said “Politics“ and let them fall. He always had ideas about stuff to read that often were just right. “Anything I can do.” I liked Sam’s calmness. She didn’t talk in a high screechy voice, instead her voice sounded musty. Is that the right word? “I’m interested in early English literature, drama especially. Mystery plays, moralities,” I gave a chuckle here and she smiled, “the school plays and then the theater of Marlow and Shakespeare.” “And Dekker, Beaumont and Fletcher, Middleton and Marston.” “Yes, Mr. Roberts said you’d be the best one to talk to.” “Maybe not the best, but I know what you’re wanting. Have you been to the college library?” “You don’t have to be in college to go?” “I see you haven’t,” I smiled. “No. The town library had a little,” she held up the Harvard Classics volume. “Not much though.” Boy, I’d been there myself. “I go to the college library several times a week. And my boyfriend, Jim, got me into a class of his on Shakespeare. I audit it. Read the books, participate in discussions. I don’t do any papers or tests and I don’t get a grade. It’s fun.” “You can do that?” Ah, she wasn’t so calm after all. “I’ll talk to Jim and his professor. It’s on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s right after school here. You’ll need to buy some books at the college bookstore if you can. Goodness, you’ve probably never been there either.” “No, I haven’t been much of anywhere.” “No problem. We can go to the library and the bookstore anytime you want. The store closes as four-thirty, the library is open until eleven. Moreover, I don’t think you’ve not been anywhere or done anything. Your eyes belie that. They fascinate me; not just their color but how the muscles around them move. You’ve lived and done things a lot of people here can’t even imagine.” “Just books,” she was blushing again but smiling. “Could we go this afternoon, if not . . .” “This afternoon would be just perfect. My boyfriend Jim and I are taking a break for a few days. We’re working things out. Relationships.” My turn for the rise and fall of shoulders. “Oh well. I’d really enjoy going and showing you.” I could see by the clock the bell would ring in a few minutes. “I hope things are all right with you and Jim,” she was concerned. “Oh they are and I expect they’ll be even better.” I smiled. “We just have to work a few things out.” Bill and Mark and my sea of lust. “I met Jim at the college library, it’s my haven.” “You like him a lot, don’t you?” She was gathering her books. “An awful lot. He is just about the only guy to treat me like I was a human being. Not just as a girl.” “Like Mr. Roberts,” she smiled. I could see she liked him, too. “Yeah, like Mr. Roberts. There aren’t too many like them.” “Meet you out front after school.” “Perfect. And Sam,” I said as she started to turn away. “Thanks.” She looked startled. “Thank you!” And hurried off. Boy, I hoped she had a scar or tattoo. She’d be a perfect mate for Chastity, the Pirate Queen. The bell went off, and I headed down the hall for more enforced drudgery. Imagine meeting someone whose eyes didn’t glaze over when I mention nuclear bombs. Those glorious, luminous eyes. I guess I’m not totally alone here after all.
Stories | About Bingo | Bingo’s Home | Bingo’s Stuff | Bingo’s Lair |