Good Medicine Senior YearChapter 56 Holy Week and Pascha Part I
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Good Medicine - Senior YearChapter 6: London System free porn video
June 9, 1984, McKinley, Ohio
“I’ve figured out what’s wrong with this game,” Dona said after we’d played the first nine holes.
“What’s that?”
“Using as few strokes as possible to get it in the hole!”
I guffawed.
“I mean, seriously, who wants FEWER strokes than average?” she continued.
I laughed harder.
“And who thinks that the best possible way to score is one stroke, then you take it out and move on to the next hole, never to put it in the first one again? GUYS! That’s who!”
I doubled over at that point, one arm holding my side, the other using the putter for support. It took a couple of minutes before I could stand up, wipe the tears from my cheeks, and move towards the tenth hole. We talked as we played.
“Bad experience with men?” I asked with a grin.
Dona smiled wryly, “Yes and no. It’s complicated.”
“I’m a good listener, I mean, for a guy!”
“I think you’d have to be to have close friends like Clarissa and Jocelyn. Girls tend to glom on to guys who listen.”
“And usually just want to be friends,” I replied.
“I got the picture you don’t have trouble getting dates.”
“I did in High School,” I replied. “I had one steady girlfriend, for most of Senior year, but otherwise, it never lasted beyond the second or third date. They always wanted to be friends, but that was it.”
“Jocelyn?”
“My best friend from kindergarten through the middle of the Summer after Senior year. She was in an accident and we successfully wrecked a thirteen-year friendship. It took two years to get it back, but it’s not the same. I didn’t meet Clarissa until I started at Taft, and you know she’s lesbian.”
“I met Steve near the beginning of my Sophomore year. We dated for a short time, then I made a really stupid decision and basically wrecked things. I dated some after that, and during my Junior year went with a guy for a while, but he was,” she laughed, “like the golf game.”
“Too few strokes?” I smirked.
“I described it as the difference between, uhm, screwing like a man and screwing like a little boy. He screwed like a little boy. Anyway, I ran into Steve again during my Junior year and we reconnected, but we never really dated. At some point, he stopped coming back to Milford.”
“You guys were never a couple?”
“No, but that was because I was stupid. Well, immature, foolish, and misguided. If I’d handled things differently, who knows. There was a girl he was interested in, but she was the ‘Holy Roller’ type and let’s just say I suspect I could offer things she would never even think about!”
I chuckled, “Kelly Prager?”
“But not stuck up. She was WAY prettier than Kelly, and she was really sweet, not a bitch like Kelly. But even the school stud wasn’t going to get THAT without a diamond ring, a white dress, and a reverend!”
“School stud?”
“I didn’t know it when we met because Milford’s Junior High has eighth and ninth grades, and he was two years ahead. He had a reputation with the girls in his grade and one lower, but I didn’t have any friends in that same circle.”
“So a secret school stud?”
“From the rumors I eventually heard, all from girls, mind you, that was a perfect strategy. If he had less than two dozen girls from Milford, I’d be shocked. I only had a chance because the girl he’d been steady with moved to Seattle at the end of Junior year. He’d been in Sweden but they’d still planned to be together, but I guess her dad got a job in Seattle and they moved. He was a bit like you, too, in that he had lots of female friends, though the rumor was he slept with all of them, at least from time to time.”
Which was true of me as well, but I didn’t know how much Dona knew from Jocelyn and Clarissa. They’d both been careful talking around her, and Jocelyn had made sure she went back to her room the mornings following those few nights we slept together before her first date with Bill.
“I’ve heard some stuff that sounds pretty far-fetched from a couple of people who knew him, but the stories all seem to match.”
“I’d say he lived the dream life of an all-American High School guy.”
“I, on the other hand, was the consummate nerd.”
“I think that’s almost a pre-req for being a doctor. My friend Larry at UC was a total nerd in High School as well. He still is, really. You seem to have escaped from the nerds.”
“I met the right people at Taft,” I replied.
“I’m glad I met you, Jocelyn, and Clarissa. It’s made coming to Taft easier.”
We finished the 18th hole and returned our clubs. I tallied the score sheet.
“I won by thirteen strokes,” I said.
“A hundred and thirteen strokes would be a LOT better!”
“Have you counted?” I asked with a silly grin.
Dona laughed, “No. Somehow I think counting strokes and writing it on a scoresheet might be an issue!”
“You never know, maybe it would encourage the guy to go as far over par as possible!”
“Now THERE’S an idea!”
We both laughed, and she looped her arm through mine. We made our way back to campus with our arms linked, and during our walk we agreed to play mini golf again the following Saturday morning. When we arrived at the dorm, I took a few minutes to talk to Jocelyn in private.
“He asked for a second date and I said ‘yes’,” she replied in response to my question about how things had gone.
“Good. Clarissa is going on a second date as well.”
“And your mini golf game?”
“We had a lot of fun. I think I helped improve her mood and I think she’ll be a good friend.”
“Cool. What’s the plan for the rest of the day?”
“Karate, Vespers, then Chinese at Doctor Blahnik’s house. Bring Dona, please, I don’t want her to feel left out.”
“Will do.”
June 10, 1984, McKinley, Ohio
“How are things at home, Tasha?” I asked when we gathered in her apartment on Sunday afternoon.
“Mom said my dad sat in his study alone for a few hours after Father Nicholas called, but otherwise, he seems to be himself.”
“Which means he’s unhappy, but isn’t taking it out on anyone at your house.”
“That’s what I think, yes.”
“Are Sasha’s wedding plans set?”
“A week from Saturday, in the afternoon before Vespers, at Holy Transfiguration. The reception will be in the church hall right after the ceremony. That will end right before Vespers starts. Will you be able to be there?”
“When you gave me the tentative date, I made arrangements with Father Nicholas.”
“The objections from Family Services were rejected?” Clarissa asked.
“Yes. According to my mom, who I called after church today, the judge said the law permitted the marriage, both parents had signed off, Sasha was willingly marrying Yaroslav, and he could support her.”
“Could they appeal?” Jocelyn asked.
“I don’t think so,” Tasha said. “According to the attorney, the only time that can happen is if the two parents disagree. You only need one to sign in Ohio, so there could be a disagreement that the courts would have to settle. But Family Services can’t appeal the ruling unless Sasha or my parents change their minds.”
“Which is not going to happen,” I said. “I’m glad that worked out OK. Did you talk with Nikolas?”
“I will on Wednesday,” Tasha replied. “I decided to wait to make sure everything was fine at home and my dad wasn’t going to try to cause trouble.”
“Unlike Maggie’s dad,” I replied. “He showed up at the house yesterday and she simply refused to open the door. Nobody else was home, and she saw out the window who was ringing the bell, so she went to her room and closed the door and stayed there until he gave up.”
“He didn’t come to campus?” Jocelyn asked.
“Not that I’m aware of. He wouldn’t have been able to get into the dorm, even wearing his uniform, and I didn’t see him.”
“Can he cause you any real trouble?” Tasha asked.
“Not really.”
“And the complaint you made?” Jocelyn asked.
“Nothing has happened so far. I won’t even bother following up unless he persists in harassing Maggie.”
“Today is Pentecost,” Clarissa said, “so you start fasting again, right?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Wednesdays and Fridays. The next major fasting periods are the Apostles Fast and the Dormition Fast, and of course, Little Lent, or the Nativity Fast. And then Great Lent and we do it all over again! I think I told you that the cycle of services basically defines time for me. It’s not the days and months on the wall calendar, but where we are in the church year. And after twenty-one years, that is the rhythm and flow of my life.”
“Being Lutheran is SO much simpler,” Jocelyn declared with a smile.
“And you know I feel Luther threw the baby out with the bathwater. His complaints about Rome were very similar to ours, and there were even dialogues between the Lutherans and Orthodox, but the Lutherans chose to go their own way with their own solutions to problems which had already been solved.”
“Hey, I once told you ‘Paris is worth a mass’!” Jocelyn protested.
“True,” I agreed. “Let’s change the topic! What’s for dinner?”
“Beef Stroganoff. I should probably get started. Would you help?”
“Gladly!”
June 12, 1984, McKinley, Ohio
“Do you always get a single scoop of chocolate?” Grace asked on Tuesday evening when we were at Verner’s.
“I know, boring in the extreme, but it’s pretty much what I’ve done consistently since I was about ten, though I’ve been known to be wild and crazy and get a turtle sundae on occasion!”
Grace laughed softly, “Creature of habit?”
“Mostly, I guess. My church is very traditional and it takes hundreds of years to change anything, and very few changes ever happen! New music for us means it’s over a hundred years old! That’s the thing that provides the foundation for my life. I think the easiest way to say it is that if it works, why change it?”
“An interesting point. Are you super-religious?”
“I’m faithfully Orthodox. But that’s very different from what most people think is super-religious.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m faithful, conservative, and traditional, but not a fundamentalist.”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
“Do you know anything about the Orthodox church?”
“No.”
“Then I think we should probably talk about something else because what you probably think a ‘super-religious’ person is actually has zero to do with what a faithful Orthodox Christian believes or does. There might be a few external similarities, but what I’d call our ‘interior life’ is very different because Orthodoxy is very different. And I strongly suspect you didn’t come here for a theology discussion!”
Grace laughed, “Not even close. But where does that leave us?”
“Right now? We’re two college kids having ice cream.”
“And ‘strip chess’?” she asked.
“Before I answer, when you asked all those relationship questions, you said it was for you. Why?”
“Just what I told you - I’m not interested in anything serious, just someone to hang out with and have some fun. No complications, just two college kids hanging out and having a good time, with the added advantage that no matter what happens, my dad isn’t going to send federal agents after you!”
“There is that,” I chuckled. “One other important question. The game risks going beyond the prizes, so I have to ask about birth control, even if it doesn’t get to that point.”
“I use a diaphragm. I prefer to not take pills, don’t like rubbers, and the diaphragm is really reliable.”
I knew about diaphragms, but had never been with a girl who used one. I remembered from health class that it had to be inserted before sex, and that spermicide was used to provide additional protection, but that was the extent of my knowledge.
“I suppose the only question then is whether you’re OK with the prizes. Your Monopoly game didn’t have anything like that, did it?”
“It didn’t. The whole point was the guys wanting to see us naked and needing some kind of gimmick! The first time, the game ended and we put our clothes back on and that was it. After Prom, well, the couples did what couples always do after Prom!”
Or tried to do, in my case, but I didn’t think that was particularly relevant.
“And the prizes?”
“I don’t see a problem with them. Neither of us are virgins and it’s just for fun, right?”
“Right.”
“Your place or mine?” she asked.
“You live at home, right?”
“Yes, but my parents are out for the evening. They won’t be home before 11:00pm, and I’m eighteen, so it’s not like there’s really much they can say or do if they came home early.”
“Where do you live?”
“Just outside town to the north. I have my car, so probably the easiest is if we both drive. It’s straight out Main to Searle’s Crossing. You make a left, then the first left, which is Ames, and it’s the third house on the left. It’s white, with red shutters. 412 Ames. You can park in the driveway behind my Challenger.”
“One of the new ones which are rebranded Japanese cars or a classic one?”
“It’s my dad’s old car - a 1973 Challenger hardtop with a V8. You drive a Mustang, right?”
“Yes, a Black 1976 Cobra II with a V8 and a four-speed manual.”
“Mine’s a four-speed manual as well. Wanna trade cars for the drive?”
“Why not?”
We finished our ice cream then walked back to campus so Grace could get my car, and then I walked back to Verner’s to get into hers which she had parked in the street in front of the shop. I started the engine and was treated to a full-throated roar from the V8. I laughed at the thought of what Jocelyn would do with this car if she had the chance, but she had trouble driving stick due to how she’d healed after her accident.
Less than ten minutes later I turned onto Ames and saw my Mustang idling by the curb. I pulled into the driveway of Grace’s house and she pulled in behind me. We both shut off the engines, got out, locked the cars, and exchanged keys.
“Nice car,” I grinned.
“Same! Did you open her up?”
I shook my head, “My friend Jocelyn has the lead foot; I drive pretty conservatively. But I did test the power away from the line at the traffic light at Route 50. You?”
“I like to drive fast! Let’s go in.”
We went into the house which was very similar to my parents’ house, though it was a true two-story where my parents was a split-level. After we took off our shoes, Grace led me upstairs and to her room which looked more like a guy’s room - posters of muscle cars, Pete Rose, Anthony Muñoz, and hilariously in contrast, at least to me, David Cassidy.
“‘One of these things doesn’t belong here... ‘,” I sang.
“What? I can’t have ONE thing that’s girly? I had a crush on him to die for from ages ten to fourteen. I left it up because it contrasts with the other stuff.”
I chuckled, “When we did the ‘bachelorette’ thing, and you said ‘walks in the rain’, I got a ‘romantic’ vibe.”
“And that means I can’t like Corvettes, baseball, and football?”
“No, it’s just the contrast. I’m much more used to frilly rooms with at least some pink!”
“No pink decorations in here! I work on my own car, too; Dad taught me. You?”
I shook my head, “My friend Nate back home maintains my car for me. My dad always used a mechanic, so that’s what I do.”
“Working on cars is fun, and a great way to meet guys. Let me get my chess set.”
She went to the closet and got a rolled-up plastic mat and a box of chess pieces, similar to what we used in tournaments. She waved and I followed her back downstairs, then to the basement where she unrolled the mat on a low table with beanbag chairs on each side. She opened the box, took out two pawns, put her hands behind her back, then held them out. I tapped her right hand and was rewarded with the white pawn.
We set up the pieces and I decided on a fairly straight forward queen’s pawn opening, with my choice of continuation influenced by Grace’s response. She met my d4 with Nf6, and I elected to NOT play the Queen’s Gambit, choosing instead Nf3. She met that with d5 and I responded with Bf4. This was the ‘London System’ and generally resulted in a closed, methodical game. It had the benefit of having fewer theoretical lines and was called ‘boring’ by our chess coach. But I was rusty, so it made sense to me to play it. It had the added benefit of giving me solid attacking chances while limiting Grace’s chances at counter-attack. Grace responded with Bf5.
“London System?” she observed. “Very conservative.”
“I figured a good choice given I haven’t played much in the last few years.”
I played e3 and after a moment’s thought, Grace played c6. I remembered playing this position in a tournament during my Junior year, and how I’d messed up, slightly. After the game, coach had analyzed it for me and I now made the move he’d suggested - c4. Grace had to ensure her pawns were properly aligned, so she responded with e6. After Nc3 and Nbd7, I played Qb3, which meant I could force a series of profitable exchanges unless she moved her queen to a poor location, which she did by playing Qb6. The problem with that was, I could chase her away with c5, which I did.
“I’d say nicely done,” Grace said, “but I don’t like how this is developing!”
She considered for a moment, then played Qxb3, taking my queen.
“Socks count as one item,” I said, pulling off my gray tube socks.
“OK. I don’t have a belt!” she protested.
“And I don’t have a bra!” I countered, playing axb3, removing her queen from the board with my queen’s rook’s pawn.
Grace pulled off her white footies and wiggled her toes in the air.
“Sexy,” I chuckled. “Your move!”
I liked my position, and with Grace’s possible attacks defanged by the exchange of queens, and my pieces more active, I felt confident. I just had to play accurately, and I’d be in good shape. The only question was, how many pieces we’d exchange and whether or not we’d clear the pawns.
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