Victory Tour (Part 259)

I pulled around to my parking spot, grabbed the bags out of the trunk and hurried inside. It wasn't super cold out this morning, but the knowledge the temp was hovering around freezing seemed to make me think it was cold. And this was the first freeze of the fall.

Sherry was waiting for me right inside the door. With Staci, Bethany and Ny'Quesha. Their expressions indicated I had some splainin' to do.

"Morning, ladies," I said with a smile.

"Cut the crap," Bethany snapped, causing my smile to fade.

"What?" I asked as Sherry hooked an arm and turned us toward her locker.

"Dr. Chanda," Ny'Quesha snapped.

"What about her?" I asked as we moved along, the four girls forming a barrier around me.

"You could have at least taken her out to dinner first," Staci snapped.

"It's not like it was planned," I whined, still sounding rather pitiful. "It just happened."

"You're going to have to do something very special for Lupita," Staci said. "She's not going to be happy about this."

"What's Lupita got to do with it?" I asked.

"You are so clueless," Bethany spat.

"That girl's been waitin' for it ever since you opened that trailer," Ny'Quesha snorted. "You better take care of her before she explodes!"

"Look, Lupita needs to adjust to things first," I said as we reached Sherry's locker. "I don't want to do anything that might cause her harm."

"Like going to bed with someone else first?" Staci asked with an arched eyebrow as Sherry claimed her bag.

"I didn't mean to," I whined, sounding positively pathetic now. "Lupita will just have to wait a little while. There's a lot goin' on right now."

"You know they're just yanking your chain," Sherry snorted as she prepared for her morning classes. "It's not like we didn't know it was going to happen. It just happened earlier than any of us expected. I'm surprised your aunt wasn't around to block her again."

Yeah, well, I'd been soundly chastised by Dr. Robinson and had already served penance, if you could call it that. I just hoped these girls didn't know about that part.

"You'd better get to your class," Staci said, leaning in for a smooch. "It's getting close to time for the bell."

"And save something for me," Ny'Quesha said, claiming her own kiss. "Report cards come out today. I expect my reward no later than Friday after the game."

"And it's my turn Saturday night," Bethany added, becoming the third of my girlfriends to violate the PDA policy. "I think Nan's going to let me sleep over again now that you have your own house."

"Get moving, bucko," Sherry said, grabbing her kiss before closing her locker. "Teachers are starting to look this way."

"Yes, ma'am," I said once they were done attacking my lips. "You ladies have a good day."

I headed to the ISS room and was getting set up at the desk in the back corner when Marvin Johnson came in with a mug of coffee.

"You need to get to your homeroom," he said after taking a sip. "Report cards comin' out. Then you're supposed to go to the team room. Mrs. Stirling's already out there."

"Thank you, sir," I said, reloading my backpack. "How's Mrs. Johnson? I noticed she wasn't at lunch yesterday."

"She was at the women's shelter helpin' with the new girls," Marv said as he took his seat. "Gonna be there most of this week, the way I understand it. I've been ordered to remind you that you're not allowed to visit the premises."

"Understood, sir," I said, again hefting the overloaded bag. "I don't get over to that part of town very often, anyway."

"Now we just gotta keep them girls from gettin' over to your part of town," he snorted. "The way Carla talked, Lupita's already makin' you out to be some kinda saint."

I don't think I'd go that far. A nice guy, maybe, but I haven't even had any miracles attributed to me that I was aware.

The trip to Mrs. Rittenberry's room in the West Wing involved navigating through more freshmen in the South Wing. I could have cut through the courtyard, but I really didn't want to go back outside again. I wasn't ready for cold weather.

At least I didn't have to ask directions this time. I just had to deal with Mrs. Rittenberry once I got there.

"What are you doing here?" the homeroom teacher snarked when I entered the room. "I heard you finally got sent to ISS for the rest of the semester. Caused another disturbance in the cafeteria yesterday."

"First I've heard of it," I said, thinking some people just believed whatever they wanted without bothering to check the facts. "Pretty sure Mr. Dunwoody would've informed me if that was the case."

I took a seat as the teacher glared at me. A couple of students made a point of not sitting near me, just in case I got them in trouble.

"I'll be checking this out," the teacher said.

Go right ahead, lady. If things work out, this'll be the last time I ever have to deal with you.

The tardy bell hadn't finished echoing when the speaker crackled to begin morning announcements. If we didn't know by now, we were supposed to be in our homerooms for report cards. The spirit shop was selling playoff T-shirts in addition to the usual items. I considered getting one at lunch since my T-shirts had a habit of disappearing, or at least winding up on one of the females in my life.

Distribution of report cards almost went faster than the announcement. I still had to wait for all the names that came before Robinson, but had proof of straight A's in my hand soon enough. I was amazed such a notorious troublemaker was able to maintain good grades.

We were finally released to get on with our day. I could feel Mrs. Rittenberry's stare boring into the back of my head as I left the room, but didn't bother to look back. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"What'd you do this time, dude?" Jed asked, catching up to me in the hall. "That woman looked ready to bite your head off."

"She seemed to think I was supposed to be in ISS," I said. "No idea where she got that."

"Well, don't wind up there before lunch," my buddy snorted. "It's meatloaf day!"

God forbid an offensive lineman not get enough to eat because of me. It wasn't like they couldn't go back for seconds.

I headed to the southwest corner of the building, figuring that was the most direct route to the fieldhouse. The big question there was whether to turn right and go around the softball field or turn left and go around the gym.

Before I could reach a decision, Ny'Quesha grabbed me, waving her report card in my face.

"Straight A's!" the ebony cutie beamed. "You owe me my reward!"

"And then I can owe him a whuppin,'" Marshawn growled from behind me.

"For offering to take your sister to the cookout after the game Friday?" I asked. "A steak sounds like a fair reward for straight A's."

"Then you can buy me one, too," the linebacker smirked, holding up his own card. "Ain't no reason the O-line should have all the fun."

"You're on your own for dessert," I shot back. "Will Miss Aldridge be accompanying you?"

"I bet I can make that happen," he replied with a feral grin. "I'll just say her aunt needs to be there to make sure you behave."

"Sounds like a plan," I said. "We'd better get to the fieldhouse. Ny'Quesha, keep up the good work. Worst case, I'll see ya Friday."

"You can bet on it," she purred, sneaking a kiss and causing her brother to glower at me.

I thought Marshawn showed remarkable self-control in waiting until we were outside to speak.

"You better watch it with Ny'Quesha," he growled as we headed around the gym.

"Marshawn, I am not going to try anything with your sister," I protested.

"Your problem is you don't hafta try," he snorted. "You got ’em waitin' in line. Ever'body on the team still tryna figure out how you do it."

"So am I," I admitted. "It's kinda like you being able to separate running backs and receivers from footballs — a gift from God. If I knew how to turn it off, I would've before I wound up with so many girlfriends."

"Yeah, but I can make a livin' with my gift," he grinned maliciously, rounding the corner of the gym and aiming for the door to the team room. "You better not be makin' them ladies pay for your services. There's a word for that."

"I don't think that's going to be a problem," I said. "My grandmother's had some folks put together a contract for girls' families that'll make me responsible for their support. She had lunch with a bunch of ’em over the weekend to see who intends to stick around."

"And how many intend to stick around?" he asked.

"Too damn many," I said. "Apparently, there's at least one I've never even been out with."

"And you got enough to pay for all that?" he asked in astonishment.

"Marshawn, I've got enough to buy an NFL franchise," I smirked. "Be nice to me and I just might draft your sorry butt."

"How you get that much?" he asked.

"Legal settlements from people who thought they could steamroll me just because I was in their path," I said. "Mr. Patterson's put the proceeds in high-yield investments. Some have already exceeded expectations (like the farm where we'd found billions in cash and gold along with a classic Mercedes). I won't be living on Ramen noodles when I get out of here."

"Now I'm really gonna have to bring the pain in practice," he cackled. "See if I can knock some of that outta ya and pick up the loose change!"

I didn't have the heart to tell him I didn't keep that much in my wallet and wasn't in the habit of carrying it on the practice field. Not to mention his method sounded like it was a far cry from being nice to me. I'd trade his draft rights to a bad team and spill his dessert if he wasn't careful.

We stepped into the team room to find my next adventure. Morgan and Elise were already there. With arms crossed and unpleasant expressions.

"Is it true?" Elise demanded.

"Is what true?" I replied as Marshawn suddenly remembered he needed something from the locker room.

"Look at me," Morgan commanded, stepping close and staring at my face. "Dr. Chanda Ramakrishnan."

Damn, that was — what? — 10 of them who'd already heard the news and it wasn't even 8:30! Karen had walked in on us, so 11. And there was no way Kacie hadn't heard if that many others had, she just hadn't had a chance jump my ass about it yet, so 12.

And if Elise knew, Riley knew or soon would, so 13.

The odds of Chanda (or Jo) keeping it a secret from Lupita at the shelter seemed extremely low, so 14. I could only hope no one had called Bonnie or Midori.

And don't forget Grandma. That meant Mom knew. I'm surprised I'd received only one screaming phone call this morning.

There was no way I was making it to lunch. I may not even survive first period.

"What about Dr. Ramakrishnan?" I managed to stammer.

"Oh, God, it is true!" Morgan fumed. "How the hell did you manage that?"

"It just happened," I whined for the umpteenth time in the last hour or so. "I wasn't looking to do anything, I swear! I was just going through the house making a list of things it needs for my grandmother. I didn't know anyone else was even there."

"You sure found out quick enough," Elise snapped.

"You could have at least waited for us to vote her in first," Morgan added. "I can't believe you've pulled another woman with a doctorate!"

"If I wasn't attracted to smart women, I never would've gone out with you," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

"Great answer," the brainy little elf smirked. "That still doesn't get you out of trouble, boyo."

I was saved from further torment when Mrs. Stirling and the other football players came in.

"Everyone take a seat," the superintendent's wife said. "I've got your assignments for the rest of the week."

I took a spot away from my girlfriends, making sure I was within reach of a power outlet, in hopes of actually being able to get some work done. There was no doubt I'd catch more shit for fucking Chanda, but I hoped to postpone it as long as possible.

Mrs. Stirling dealt with everyone else before she came to me. Her expression seemed to indicate she was aware of just why her daughter was displeased with me this morning.

"You're worse than Richard," she snarked.

"Ma'am?" I asked, totally confused.

"My college teammates and sorority sisters didn't all call him Big Dick Stirling because of his height," she smirked. "Didn't think I'd ever get that man tamed. I had to do things I haven't done since we got married to keep him from noticing how Elise looked Sunday. You might want to tone it down."

I wasn't about to ask what she meant. I'd seen how Elise looked myself that day and I really didn't want to know why the girls called Dr. Richard Stirling Big Dick.

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

The actual scholastic assignments Mrs. Stirling had for me were nothing unexpected. In addition to 500 words on Hamlet's mental state for English IV, I had to write 500 words on Suleiman the Magnificent's rise to power for Western Civ. There were 10 questions to answer in Economics, so Chuck would be getting a call. I had all the Algebra II problems done, but needed to turn in the first 10 at some point today. Chemistry had a bunch of questions related to our lab due by Thursday and I needed to get started on Prof Silverberg's 5,000 words for Creative Writing.

I thought that was a bit much to handle in one day, then realized this was my workload for the week. Maybe this wouldn't be so tough if my girlfriends didn't try to remove certain body parts.

I pulled out the laptop and booted up. My goal was to get the essays done for English and Western Civ before athletics.

The first issue I encountered was getting onto the school's wifi. You'd think they'd put a repeater or something out here.

Once I did connect, I found the school server had blocked Karen's websites. What the fuck? You'd think they didn't want us to learn or something.

Fortunately, I had a workaround. The power cord was pulled out and plugged in, then the phone was connected with a USB line. Using the phone as a hotspot, I was able to get online and call up the website. I was getting tired of the passive-aggressive bullshit. No one had explicitly said I wasn't allowed to access these sites. What were they going to bust me for, being too smart?

Hamlet was easy enough even without the online content. The dude was depressed. They called him the Melancholy Dane for a reason. I mean, his dad had been murdered, his uncle had seized the crown and his mom had remarried pretty fast. He was also getting jerked around by his uncle. If that wasn't enough, it was wintertime in a northern latitude. The lack of sunlight, constant gloom and cold would make anyone depressed.

Suleiman took a little more work. The Ottoman method of determining a successor was fucked up, to say the least. Basically, the throne went to whoever could eliminate the competition. I felt a lot of that fell on their mothers, many of whom were European. The political maneuvering within the harem bled over into the rest of the government. The sultan's mother held a higher status and the competition for the top spot was pretty fierce.

It made me glad Dad didn't have other sons (that he was admitting to, anyway). I'd hate to have to fight off a half-brother who came after me wanting to steal my inheritance. Not that I was expecting much of an inheritance. Dad could leave everything to Kacie since I was pretty much set for life.

I could only hope my girlfriends would play nicer if they all decided to have kids with me. It probably helped that I wouldn't be leaving an empire to one of my offspring. The little bastards would just have to make do with however many millions I bequeathed to them.

The essays were done and emailed to the respective teachers by the end of third period. The other guys had gone to dress for athletics a few minutes before the bell, which should please Coach Tucker. I followed after packing up the laptop and had workout clothes on before the tardy bell.

Being ahead of the pack for once, I took a moment to look at the bulletin board on my way to the weightroom. The final regular-season poll had us ranked No. 4 with a few first-place votes, which was a pleasant surprise. People who should know seemed to think we were good enough to at least make the semifinals. We just had to get past the No. 1 team in the third round.

Lifting went quickly, Coach Bennett seeming to take special delight in again reminding us "little pissaints" that the work wasn't done yet. The goal was to still be working for the next five weeks.

Film study was only notable in that we had footage of the Wildcats' latest game. I didn't notice their defense doing anything we hadn't already seen. I could see Reggie having a big game if his knee wasn't going to be a problem.

Once that was out of the way, Coach Tucker had a couple of things to address. First was announcing who made the honor rolls. As far as I could tell, we hadn't lost any varsity players to grades this time. That was a good thing. We'd have to reach the quarterfinals for anyone to regain eligibility.

As guys were praised for their academic achievements, assistant coaches began wheeling in clothing racks with garment bags hanging from them.

"Most of you already have one of these," Coach said as he pulled a bag off a rack, "but a few who weren't on varsity last year have earned theirs."

He unzipped the bag to reveal a letter jacket. Blue shell, white leather sleeves, a blue B outlined in white on the left breast. It looked sharp.

I wasn't even thinking of getting one until my name was called. I didn't know what the criteria was, but pretty much everyone who'd been on varsity all season lettered. It couldn't have come at a better time, as far as I was concerned. The jackets were heavy enough to keep us warm on a day like this.

I was glad to see all the scout teamers were recognized. They deserved it just for last week against the Badgers, if nothing else.

The support staff was also recognized. Every junior and senior student trainer and manager lettered. So did Morgan, Benny Tanaka and Will Hutchins. At least I wouldn't be the only one who looked out of place.

I was also glad I had an excuse to not let Morgan claim my jacket. I had too many girlfriends to show such favoritism. Elise, Riley and Ny'Quesha had their own from their sports, Staci would get one for cheerleading and Kacie would get one for band. That'd leave Bethany and Sherry as the most likely to try to stake a claim on mine.

Order forms for patches were handed out. Coach Tucker informed us all-district selections would be announced after all the district's qualifiers were eliminated from the playoffs. I was pretty sure I didn't have to worry about that. One catch for one yard didn't deserve a lot of notice. But a patch with my jersey number and one for the district championship oughta work.

We were advised to wait for all-state teams to come out and make just one order. I definitely didn't have to worry about that. Our state actually had two "official" all-state teams. The Associated Press teams for each classification, selected by sports writers from outlets that were AP members, were based on regular-season stats only and would be announced the week of the state finals.

The state sports writers association, which included writers not employed by AP members, would pick its teams based on full-season stats for release in January. A guy who might be borderline after 10 games could boost his chances by going nuts during a deep playoff run. It basically favored offensive linemen on teams that at least reached the semifinals.

We were finally released to go get ready for lunch. I detoured by the offensive line section of the locker room to check in with Chuck.

"Got your Economics stuff?" I asked. "Thought we could knock this out over lunch and have more free time this evening."

"It's gonna cost ya," the left guard grinned. "It's meatloaf day!"

"How about Cookshack?" I suggested. "You wouldn't have to fight the other guys."

"You serious?" he asked.

"Brisket or meatloaf, beef is beef," I said. "Besides, it's one way to make sure Rhonda Devers doesn't jump my ass in the cafeteria again."

"Lemme get cleaned up," he said. "I'll meet ya at your car."

I rinsed off and got dressed, putting my letter jacket on for the first time. I really didn't want to lug my backpack around during lunch, but figured it'd be the easiest way to make sure I had my book with me.

Morgan, wearing her letter jacket, and Elise were waiting for me outside.

"I'm taking Chuck off campus so we can work on an assignment," I said, receiving two scowls.

"We need to talk to you about Chanda," Morgan snapped.

"And we'll be able to do that in private this evening," I said firmly. "This isn't something we should discuss in the cafeteria. Lord only knows what kind of gossip would get started."

"He's right," Elise pouted, looking like she found the concept to be distasteful.

"Don't think I'm done with you, boyo," Morgan said, sounding way too much like my mother.

"I certainly hope not," I grinned wickedly, which almost set her off even more. "We can go to my house after practice this evening. Make sure as many of the other girls as can make it know they're welcome, too. We can get supper from somewhere if you like."

"I'll think about it," Morgan grumped.

"So will I," Elise added.

"Ready to roll, dude?" Chuck asked from behind me, unwittingly saving me from angry girlfriends. "I'm hungry."

When are you not hungry, I thought.

God, I better not've said that out loud.