Is that you
- 3 years ago
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When I woke up, I’d obviously missed a rest stop because Coach Budd was now driving. We were on the outskirts of town so there wasn’t much further to go until we were back at school. My watch showed a quarter to nine, so my estimate hadn’t been far off. I looked at my smartphone and found an ‘OK’ from Mum in response to my text message.
When we pulled into the school yard, Mum was waiting for me with the car. After saying goodbye to the others, I went over to the car and put my kit in the trunk.
“What’s wrong, Kevin?” asked Mum.
“I overexerted myself during the race,” I said.
“You sound a bit hoarse,” she said. She placed her palm against my forehead. “You’re running a temperature too. I hope you’re not going down with something.”
We drove the short distance home in silence. When we went inside, Terri tried to ask about the race but Mum waved her away, saying I wasn’t well.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I saved you some dinner.”
“Yes, but I don’t think I can stomach any solid food,” I replied.
“Jump into bed and I’ll bring some soup up to you.”
“Thanks Mum.”
Mum’s soup was her traditional first-choice treatment for when we were afflicted by minor childhood illnesses. It was really thick and gloopy, having been simmered until all the constituents were so tender they were easy for a sore throat to swallow. When she delivered it to me, she also had the foresight to bring a couple of paracetamol tablets. I devoured the soup and the pills then lay down to sleep.
Next morning I was woken by knocking on my bedroom door.
“Kevin, are you staying at home today?” asked Mum, after I had invited her in.
Horrified, I checked the time. I had forgotten to set my alarm. Despite sleeping on the minibus and having an early night, I had overslept.
“No Mum, I overslept,” I replied.
“How are you feeling today?”
“Much better thanks.”
“You sound much better.” Mum placed her hand on my forehead. “And your temperature’s gone.”
“I’d better hurry or I’ll be late.”
“Are you hungry after missing dinner last night? I could cook you some breakfast while you’re taking a shower.”
“I wouldn’t have time to eat it. I’m very late.”
“It’s okay, I’ve got the car today. I’ll give you a lift to school,” Mum volunteered.
Being driven to school was usually a cause for embarrassment but these were extenuating circumstances. “In that case, yes please. I don’t deserve you.”
“And don’t forget it,” Mum said with a half smile. She collected last night’s soup dish and left the room. I quickly showered and dressed and headed to the kitchen, seduced by the delicious smell of a fried breakfast
Dad and Terri had already left so I was able to wolf down the food in peace. By the time I had grabbed my books and laptop and stuffed them in my backpack, Mum was in the car with the engine running. Although she made good time, we were still late by the time we got to school gates. I kissed my mum on the cheek and bolted for the entrance.
I got to my home room a few of minutes late. Mrs Gibbons had already started reading out the school notices.
“You’re late, Mr Randell,” said Mrs Gibbons.
“Sorry, Ma’am. I had a long day yesterday.”
“So did I, Mr Randell, and yet I was here on time. Don’t be late again.”
Mrs Gibbons had been our second driver yesterday and her day had been as long as mine, so I guess my excuse sounded a bit crass. She hadn’t had the toll of a tough cross-country race though, and I thought I deserved some leeway following my success. But I held my tongue: at least she wasn’t giving me a detention.
“Yes Ma’am.”
She didn’t say anything about the cross-country meeting when reading out the rest of the notices, so either she’d already mentioned it or it wasn’t deemed important enough.
Michael collared me the first chance he got. “What happened to you? We were hoping you’d walk to school with us this morning.”
“I forgot to set my alarm and overslept,” I admitted. “My mum gave me a lift to school.”
“You have to sit with us at lunchtime,” said Michael. “Dennis has got something weird to show you.”
“Okay,” I agreed. If Dennis had been prepared to work on the project on a Sunday, the least I could do was listen to what he had to say.
The morning passed interminably slowly, but at last lunchtime arrived. I went and sat with Michael and Dimitri. Not being a genuine nerd, Dennis had a different schedule to the three of us so often arrived slightly earlier or, as in this case, later.
“Did Kat give you any more grief about the video?” I asked Dimitri.
“Dude, not in public,” hissed Dimitri. Then he lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “No.”
“Good. I pointed out to her that we all watched it,” I said.
“Have you been chatting up Dimitri’s sister?” asked Michael.
“Oh God, no,” said Dimitri, putting his head in his hands. “You asked her to prom, didn’t you! My sister’s going on a date with my gay friend.”
“What? No!,” I protested. “I just tried to head off any problems between the two of you. Besides, Kat would fail the Age Appropriate test because she’s more than a year older than me.”
Dimitri lowered his hands. “That’s the first time I’ve been grateful Kat is three years older than me,” he said, just as Dennis arrived and sat down at our table.
“Sounds like I’m missing something interesting,” said Dennis.
“Dimitri is worried that Kevin has the hots for his sister,” said Michael.
“But he’s gay!” said Dennis, then he paused to take stock. “I’m sorry, I can’t get my head around the ramifications of this supposed brainwashing. I still automatically think of Kevin as gay.”
“It’s okay,” I replied. “At least you’re now open to the possibility I might not be. The trouble is, the four of us are greatly outnumbered by the rest of the world.”
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Bryan snapped his fingers and I returned to kneel on the floor beside him. Bryan discussed with Rich that tomorrow, we would all go out with Lisa. I worried this would be the second of Bryan’s friends she had seen me with. I assumed Bryan would work on a cover story. I also knew that she would have the idea not untrue that Bryan's friends were passing this young girl around between them.Bryan removed his pants and pointed to his cock. I knew to start pleasing him immediately with my mouth. I...
True"Did you get any sleep at all?" smiled Marta when Margie woke her and Joe up early Thanksgiving morning, around sunrise, excited by her poem. "I nodded off a couple hours," answered Margie. Joe chuckled, propped his head on a large pillow and guided Marta to rest her head on his shoulder. "Go ahead Little One." Margie explained the inspiration, telling them of her conversation with Joe's mom and her dad and how she sought further conversation and when not found decided to write her...
1.When I met Carrie, I was perhaps at my lowest point in my dealings with women. If I'd have met Carrie at any other time, I might've had the good sense to get out, or not get involved. As it stood-- I was vulnerable, and desperate-- and for all of her faults, Carrie was quite attractive, masterful-- even insane in bed, and cunningly manipulative.Carrie was the first woman I'd been with in a long time who was more sexually experienced than I was, and (so far) has been the oldest women I've ever...
Theatrical……12I went downstairs having left a suitable length of time after he left the room, I felt a lot happier and was able to face the world, he was sitting back at the table and Mary was sitting beside him, I thought about his comment about my being his pimp, I smiled to myself, “why not?” I thought, he was chatting with Mary, the speeches and the meal finally officially over, the tables were changed to the evening session and for the dancing and boozing, now we would see who was what in...
Only a half hour until everyone gets home. I must work fast to finish the job. I plug in the drill and hurry up into the attic. Ah, here is the spot. The drill spins as I press in down into the wooden floor. And then, light. I pull out the drill and look down into the hole. Yes, perfect. From here, I can see all of their room. My calculations were right. I race down and go into my s!ster's room; they are twins and two years older than I. I look up at the ceiling. With the intricate pattern of...
This is the second of what will be a 3 part story (I hope). I want to thank Annabelle Brito for reviewing and making suggestions that I believe have greatly improved the story. This story is complete fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead is pure coincidence. I hope you enjoy it. Please leave your comments, good or bad. I try to learn from corrective criticism. It includes sex between underage teens so if this offends you, please refrain from reading it. A Boy...