Victory Tour (Part 270)

Friday, Nov. 16

GAME DAY — FIRST ROUND, WILDCATS

I awoke a little after 6 feeling amazingly refreshed, much better than yesterday. Maybe I oughta fall asleep sucking on a titty more often.

My mood also seemed better. I didn't feel like strangling the next person I came across. Just the next person who gave me shit.

Jo was still cuddled up to me, tits pressed against my side. I just lay there watching her sleep for an indeterminant amount of time. I would have gladly spent the rest of the day doing that.

Any chance of that happening was dashed when the door opened and Marie breezed in wearing a sweater over her housedress.

"You two need to get up," my little waif commanded as she moved to the kitchen. "I'll get breakfast started. Bacon and eggs good for you, Daddy?"

"Sounds good, baby," I yawned as Jo began stirring.

"Good morning, Master," my blonde pet smiled sleepily. "Sleep well?"

"Very," I smiled back. "Thanks for helping me."

"Anytime, Master," she cooed, leaning in for a smooch. "We'd better get moving. You take the bathroom first. You need a shower."

"That bad, huh?" I grinned.

"Not bad, just ... a little earthy," she said, rolling out of bed. "Kind of manly, actually."

I resisted the temptation to demonstrate just how manly I could get as the blonde pulled on one of my T-shirts to cover her nudity. I needed to get ready for school. Besides, I wouldn't want Marie to feel left out and could afford neither the time nor energy to take care of both.

Grabbing a fresh pair of boxers, I stepped into the bathroom to get started on my day. Showering allowed me to shave my lower legs for tonight. It also gave me time to mentally review what I had for the day besides a football game. Assuming I was still on the team after meeting with Coach Tucker.

There'd be the weekly test in Algebra II, but that could wait until fifth period. I really should've studied the material last night, but my meeting with Lanny took up more time than I expected. And I got on a roll with the Billy Bob-Katya story.

If Karen really was going to hit us with a pop quiz, I'd better go over the first two acts of "Hamlet" again this morning.

I'd get to Economics, Western Civ and Chemistry when/if I had time. The rest of the day was reserved for the Creative Writing project.

"It's on the table, Daddy," Marie said when I exited the bathroom.

"Thank you, baby," I called back, stepping to the wire shelves for some clothes.

Let's see, blue team shirt for a home game, khakis, socks and loafers. I was dressed, shod and in my seat at the little table before Marie had reason to call me again.

"I'd better start getting ready, myself," Jo said, grabbing another smooch before taking her dishes to the sink.

The blonde had to tease me a little by peeling off the T-shirt she wore on her way from the kitchen to the bathroom. She'd better be careful, I thought as she passed by me with the goodies on full display. One of these days I wouldn't have a football game to save anything for. She might find herself on the receiving end of a rough fuck in that case.

Which may have been just what she was going for, I thought. Maybe Sunday. If I didn't use myself up with Ny'Quesha and Bethany first.

I dug in, the shower turned on and Marie slipped into the other chair with a mug of coffee and a glass of pineapple juice for me.

"How are you doing today?" I asked after swallowing a bite.

"Not so good," the little waif grumped. "I started last night. That's why I slept in my room instead of with you."

I don't know if I was disappointed or relieved by her news. Well, at least Mom couldn't take a chunk out of my ass for getting my pet pregnant. This month. Not that she didn't have enough reason to already.

"I'm sorry, baby," I said, standing and moving to her to give her a hug. "We'll just have to try again next month."

"But I really thought it might happen this time," she whined, burying her face in my chest. "Especially after what you did to me the other night."

"I know," I sighed, giving her a squeeze. "If it doesn't happen next month, I'll make an appointment for us with a fertility specialist in January. It could be me, not you."

"OK, Daddy," she sniffed. "Thank you."

Marie pushed me back to my seat and climbed into my lap. It was her turn to feed me breakfast today.

I enjoyed the closeness as I ate, finishing my meal as Jo exited the bathroom wrapped in a towel. My blonde pet didn't put on too much of a show as she dressed in clothes she'd obviously stashed here in advance, but I enjoyed it. I got the feeling Marie enjoyed it, too. Jo was still an attractive woman despite her age.

"How are things going at the shelter?" I asked as Jo, fully dressed, went for another cup of coffee.

"Still getting those girls settled," she said. "I think a few of them are having trouble sleeping. Chanda said a couple of the younger ones have climbed into bed with her or Ms. Dwyer needing hugs."

"How's Lupita doing?" I asked.

"Quite well, from what I can tell," Jo said, taking the seat Marie had vacated. "She's been a big help, and not just with the cooking. She wants to come watch you play tonight, by the way."

"I don't have a problem with that," I said, "but we might oughta let Dr. Ramakrishnan make the final call. There's going to be more than 10,000 people there. I don't know if she's ready to be in a crowd like that."

"I'll talk to Chanda and Carla," Jo said. "I know they're planning on going."

"You'd better get going, Daddy," Marie said, sliding off my lap and carrying more dishes to the sink. "I've got to take Josephine to the shelter and get back to clean this place up. Maybe I'll see you at the game."

"Well, don't be afraid to take some time for yourself if you need to," I said, remembering how rough a time the little waif had last month. "If Lupita's going to stay here tonight, I can stay next door."

I collected one more round of smooches from my pets, grabbed phone, wallet, keys, jacket and backpack and headed out. It was noticeably warmer as I retraced my path of yesterday to get my Beemer out of Gladys Osborne's garage. At least I remembered where I left it this time.

A look at the weather app on my phone showed it was already in the mid 40s and warming up. We'd see a high in the low 70s today and it'd be around 60 for almost the entire game tonight. The best part was little wind was in the forecast and it'd mostly be out of the south. I shouldn't freeze standing on the sideline most of the night, but I might want to go with long sleeves just to be sure.

Letting myself in through the back door, I made my way through the house to the garage. The living room didn't look like Buck had done any damage after his Packers pissed one away last night. There weren't even any empty beer cans laying in the floor.

The thermostat was set to 70. I lowered it to 68 just because and headed to my car, hitting the button to open the door on my way past.

With no passengers scheduled for this morning, the backpack got to ride up front today. Even though it was only a little after 7, I cranked up and started backing out. Maybe I could get done with Coach before school started.

A black SUV was on my tail before I even got out of the neighborhood. It may have just been my imagination, but I thought I caught a glimpse of a maroon GMC behind it.

I made it to school without incident, pulled into my spot in the senior lot, grabbed my bag and headed for the fieldhouse. Coach Tucker wasn't in his office. No problem, I thought. I could go over "Hamlet" while I waited and took a seat in the little lobby.

The wait wasn't all that long. What was a surprise was that the superintendent accompanied the head coach.

"Ah, Gary," Dr. Stirling said as they entered at the first bell. "Just who I need to see."

"What can I do for you, sir?" I asked only a little suspiciously despite his pleasant tone.

"Some folks have questions regarding your application for early graduation," he said only a little bashfully, causing my suspicions to increase. "They should be at the front office by now. If you'd please join me, we can get this hashed out without wasting too much of your time."

"Yes, sir," I sighed, putting my copy of the play back in the backpack before turning my attention to Coach Tucker. "Maybe we can visit when I get back."

"We've got all day," he grunted, heading to his office.

Shouldering my backpack, I followed the superintendent out the door.

Did I say I was in a better mood this morning? I may have spoken too soon.

We were about halfway across the parking lot when Dr. Stirling addressed another matter.

"I realize my daughter is the one pursuing you and not the other way around," my tall girlfriend's very tall father said rather tightly. "I'm also aware she's of an age where she can make her own decisions in such matters, as she's so plainly pointed out to me on multiple occasions. I don't know what you two have gotten up to and really don't want to. But I would like you to do one thing for me."

"Sir?"

"Try to confine your activities to the weekends, if you would," he said. "I know Elise visited your new place for a study session the other night. I don't need Lynnette trying to distract me like that during the week. I'm not a teenager anymore. I was barely able to make it to work on time yesterday."

"Yes, sir," I mumbled, trying fiercely to suppress a shit-eating grin. At least he didn't bust me for buggering his little girl's ass.

But I got the feeling he pretty much accepted that I'd fucked his daughter. He just didn't want confirmation of it.

Dr. Stirling changed topics as we reached the southeast entrance and the tardy bell rang.

"What are our chances tonight?" he asked as we entered the main building.

"Pretty good, I think," I said. "We just need to take care of business. Avoid mistakes like penalties and turnovers. Pretty much all the clichés Coach Tucker would probably use."

And would certainly employ at some point before kickoff.

We moved quickly through the East Wing to the North Wing. While the lack of traffic was nice, I was denied the opportunity to at least say good morning to any of my girlfriends whose lockers we passed. I'd get to see them soon enough, I thought.

We entered the front office and Dr. Stirling directed me to the little conference room that held less-than-pleasant memories for me. In addition to Mr. Dunwoody and Mrs. Montero, a man in a suit and a professionally dressed woman were waiting for us. I was introduced to Dr. Paul Hutchinson, the assistant superintendent for finance, and Dr. Katy Burlington, assistant superintendent for curriculum.

For some reason, I wanted to ask if anyone in Dr. Burlington's family was or had been a model train enthusiast. God help me if her maiden name was something like Atchison.

I took a seat across the table from the administrators as Dr. Stirling sat at one end. Before we could get started, Craig Hennings rushed in sporting a smug expression. I was informed he was the high school's faculty representative on the curriculum committee, causing my mood to sour a little more.

"All right," Dr. Stirling said, clapping his hands together, "let's get started, shall we? Dr. Hutchinson, you have the floor."

"Um, yes," the man said, shuffling through a stack of papers. "My main concern is the number of students who've sought early graduation. While this year's number is down some, the 10-year trend is costing the district money. State funding is based on average daily attendance. We're facing the very real possibility of cutting services to avoid going overbudget. We'll probably have to increase the tax rate next year."

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. They wanted to keep my butt in a seat for five more months just to rake in a few more bucks? I don't think I could have come up with a more bullshit reason if you put a gun to my head.

"How much are we talking about?" Dr. Stirling asked.

"I don't have an exact figure," Dr. Hutchinson said, "but a few thousand per student per semester. It adds up pretty fast in a district this size."

With a sigh, I pulled out my wallet and extracted my Cayman National card.

"You can put my share on that," I said, sliding the card across the table. "Never thought I'd have to pay an extortion fee just to graduate."

The man's eyes bugged out at the name of my bank. He quickly looked at me as if he had a question.

"If I wanted to, I could fund operations for this district for several decades, if not a couple of centuries," I smirked, staring him dead in the eye. "You're not making me want to."

"Yes, well," he gulped, handing my card back to me as Dunwoody scowled in my direction, "I think we still have enough in the discretionary fund for this year."

"Moving on," Dr. Stirling said, "Dr. Burlington."

"Yes, it's been brought to my attention the candidate has not completed some of the requirements for graduation," she said with Hennings' expression offering a clue as to just who brought the information to her attention. "Specifically, the number of book reports required for English IV and research papers in English IV and History of Western Civilization."

I just thought the first reason was bullshit. The idea was to get my ass out of here before those were assigned.

"Are the other candidates for early graduation facing the same 'requirements?'" I asked, the heat rising rapidly.

"The student-athletes in question were granted waivers upon their acceptance to the institutions they'll be attending," Dr. Burlington said as Hennings' smirk became almost intolerable.

"Sounds like a double standard to me," I said tightly as Hennings looked like it was all he could do to keep from laughing.

And it was all I could do to not whip out my phone and call Bill Richards to order a lawsuit be filed over the matter. The only reason I didn't was because the legal process couldn't possibly move fast enough to do me any good. There were just 35 calendar days — and only 23 days of instruction — left in the semester after today.

I had five weeks to read four books and do two papers in addition to my regular course work. A suspicious person might think someone had intentionally timed it like this. And I was very suspicious.

"I don't appreciate being railroaded," I said, causing Dr. Burlington to wince for some reason. "It would've helped if you'd come to me with this at the start of the week. I could've had a book read by now."

"Careful, Robinson," Dunwoody growled, but I was way beyond being careful at this point.

"Remember what I said about playing nice?" I shot back as Mrs. Montero paled. "This isn't playing nice."

With my sternest Clint Eastwood glare, I fixed on Hennings.

"You don't think I can fuckin' do it, do ya?" I snarled. "What are you willing to bet?"

"Watch your language, young man," Dr. Burlington snapped.

"OK, fine," I snapped back as Dunwoody's expression darkened. "I'll do it. And when I do — that's when, not if — there will be retribution."

"Are you trying to threaten us?" Dr. Hutchinson asked somewhat disbelievingly.

"Are you feeling threatened?" I asked in reply, wishing once again I could do the thing with the eyebrow. "Just know that I have access to investigative resources that are among the best in the world. I wonder how many instances of academic misconduct they'll be able to find in certain educators' backgrounds. Be a shame if someone's career was tanked because a case of plagiarism back in college got uncovered."

I found it interesting that Hennings' expression was the most worried among the group.

"Here's how this is going to work," I said, leaning forward and resting my chin on my fists, looking each of them in the eye in turn. "I will do one research paper that can be graded for both classes. The topic I have in mind will generate enough material that getting 20 double-spaced pages shouldn't be a problem. I'll turn it in by Friday, Dec. 14 so everyone concerned will have time to read it.

"I will do one book report a week for the next four weeks. I'll get with Dr. Robinson to see which day each week will work best for her schedule. By the final week of the semester, I expect all objections to be adequately addressed. I expect I'll have finals and possibly a football game that week."

"You can't just set your own terms like that!" Hennings protested, speaking for the first time. "You don't have the authority."

"And you do?" I shot back. "I've never had you for a teacher and you don't teach any of the classes I'm taking this year. I claim the right to set terms in this matter. That's the deal, take it or leave it."

The rest of the adults just stared at me. It didn't seem like they were inclined to call my bluff.

"If you'll excuse me," I said, rising and grabbing my bag, "it seems I have some books to read and a paper to research. Pleasure doin' business with ya."

I walked out of the room without looking back, any chance of me not being in a bad mood long destroyed. By the time I left the front office, I had my phone in hand composing a text to George Patterson asking him to call me ASAP to discuss me using his investigators.

It was time to rape, kill, pillage and burn.