Victory Tour (Part 256)

"What did you do to Marie?" Rhonda spat venomously when she got close.

At least she wasn't getting in my face, but several of my teammates perked up at the mention of another girl in my life. I did notice Rhonda was wearing a Crucifix on a little silver chain.

I also noticed Jed, Chuck and Marshawn, who'd all been witness to my submissive bitch's little tantrum yesterday evening, were pointedly ignoring me for the moment.

"I've done nothing to Marie," I said. "I haven't even seen her since yesterday afternoon."

"Then why was she crying when she got back to her room?" my nemesis demanded.

"I couldn't tell you," I lied, wondering how Rhonda could have been aware of Marie's emotional state at the time in question. "I was planning to check on her after practice this evening."

Morgan, Elise and Riley, who apparently saw my tell, just stared at me.

Then a whole lot of shit started happening at once. Mr. Hennings, apparently seeing another chance to bust me, came stomping over. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a hand that may have been attached to an offensive lineman reaching for my tray. And my phone started ringing. It was George Patterson.

"Excuse me, I need to take this," I said, my tray starting to move as I rose and headed for the nearest exit before Hennings got too close. "Good afternoon, sir."

Actually, I would have accepted a spam call if it got me away from Rhonda at the moment. I wasn't about to discuss how I dealt my submissive bitch in the middle of the cafeteria.

"Congratulations on becoming a homeowner, young man," the rich and powerful man greeted me. "I heard the closing went smoothly. Welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thank you, sir." I replied, stepping out to the little patio/picnic area.

"Listen, the main reason I'm calling is to inform you that you can expect a call from a mutual acquaintance of ours very shortly," Mr. Patterson said. "The 320 Foundation has been approved and the GDR, Inc. board is moving forward with helping get Holy Trinity Women's Shelter established."

"That's very good news," I grinned, thinking the next step was to decide how much drug money to contribute. A million oughta do to get things started.

"The governor mentioned another matter he said he discussed with you," Mr. Patterson said. "He said you'll be able to make political contributions on your own instead of having to go through me."

"I'll still seek your input on such matters if you don't mind, sir," I said. "You know much more about what's acceptable than I do."

"My counsel doesn't come cheap," he chuckled. "We can start with a weekend at your island estate. I'll probably be ready for a little vacation by the time we get that transaction concluded. I'm pretty sure Carole will want to tag along. I'd better let you go. Keep your phone close and turned on."

"Yes, sir," I said. "Thanks for calling."

I had just enough time to turn and find Mr. Hennings and Mrs. Montero glaring at me when my phone rang again. I didn't recognize the number, but the area code was for our state's capital city. Damn, you'd think the governor was standing right next to George Patterson during the previous call. Which he may well have been. I wondered if they were still in the metro area or back in the capital.

"Excuse me," I said to the glaring duo as I accepted the call. "This is Gary."

"Good afternoon, young man," the governor said. "I take it George gave you the news about your foundation."

"Yes, sir," I said, thinking you know damn well he did. "Thank you for helping make it a reality so quickly. He also said you have another matter to discuss with me."

"Yes," he said. "I've decided to sign that executive order we talked about. The pertinent documents will be express mailed to you just as soon as my staff gets everything in order. You'll receive two sets. I advise you keep one copy in a secure location, such as a home safe or lockable file cabinet, and carry the other with you whenever possible. A standard envelope will fit in an inside jacket pocket."

"I appreciate it sir," I said, thinking I'd better make sure to wear jackets with such pockets for the next few months.

We agreed the documents should be mailed to the Osborne house and took a second to confirm the address. The last thing I wanted was for Mom to open an express mail parcel from some state agency sent to my official home address. I'd let her in on the development once I had the paperwork in hand.

"I'd better let you get back to running the state now, sir," I said. "You take care."

"You, too, young man," he said. "Maybe we can get together and watch football again some time. Things are kind of slow around the capitol until the legislature starts its next session in January."

"You're welcome at any time, sir," I said, hoping he understood that didn't include those evenings I may be entertaining a lady caller. "We can let Mr. Patterson handle the details. Tell the First Lady she's also welcome."

"Will do," he laughed before disconnecting.

"Was that who I think it was?" Mrs. Montero asked with a rather astonished look as I put my phone away.

"I don't know," I said, trying very hard not to smirk. "Who do you think it was? We should get back inside. Looks like it's gonna rain again. Now, what can I do for y'all?"

"What was the situation with the Devers girl?" the assistant principal for the senior class asked, switching back to professional mode as I held the door. "Mr. Hennings said he's had to intervene in confrontations between the two of you before."

"You'll have to ask Rhonda," I said, straining to keep a straight face as we stepped inside. "All I got before my phone started blowing up was she wasn't very happy with the way I treated my pet yesterday."

"You named your pet Marie?!?!?!" Hennings half shouted in disbelief, causing about half the folks in the cafeteria to take notice.

"She was already named when I got her," I said. "A sweet little bitch who loves to curl up in my lap so I can pet her while I watch football on weekends. She can be a little temperamental at times, though, kinda high-strung. We had more than a couple of dozen folks in attendance yesterday. I got the feeling she didn't handle the crowd very well and started misbehaving. Rather than spank her in front of everyone, I put her in a room by herself. Sounded like she cried herself to sleep. I'm thinking of breeding her. Maybe she'll calm down after squeezing out a few whelps."

I don't think I told any outright lies there. Somebody might wanna check, though.

The two adults just stared at me. Hennings looked like he was having a hard time getting his head around my story as it compared to whatever Rhonda had to say. Palomita looked like she caught the meaning, though, based on the nostril flare and flushed face. I sure hope Master Earl is available for an emergency consultation in the very near future.

"If you'll excuse me, I should finish my lunch," I said, edging away from the dumbfounded pair. "It's already been a long day and it's only half over."

I must say, I seemed to be getting better at pulling this shit off. Still, probably shouldn't give up my day job, as Dad would say.

One thing I wasn't getting better at was keeping the offensive line from taking my lunch. My tray looked like it had been licked clean. There wasn't even any mashed taters or cream gravy left. And any of the usual suspects I would have confronted about it had apparently gotten in line for seconds.

At least Rhonda had cleared the area. Maybe I could have a moment of peace before resuming the educational process.

"You have time to go get another helping," Elise smirked. "But you'll have to hurry. Daddy won't keep the bell from ringing on schedule. I've been asking him to do that for me for years and it never works."

I tried to keep the grumbling to a minimum as I grabbed my tray and headed back to the serving line. At least the guys didn't touch my drink as far as I could tell.

Chuck was among the first of my teammates I passed as he headed back to the table with a heavily laden tray.

"If ya ask real nice, she might give ya extra now, dude," he smirked.

If there was any extra left by the time I got there. That didn't look like too good of a bet as I passed more linemen and a few defensive types on my way. The serving lady looked less than thrilled when I got at the end of the line.

"We don't have much left," she warned me when it was my turn.

"A normal serving and a roll will be fine," I smiled. "I don't need as much as the elephants."

I thanked her for the three strips and slice of bread she put on my tray. The behemoths had cleaned out the rolls.

I returned to the table as my three girlfriends in attendance prepared to depart.

"Elise and I'll see you back in the ISS room," Morgan said in a tone that indicated I would face questioning about recent events.

At least the guys were too busy dealing with their own trays to worry about mine. I was able to down three chicken strips before anyone said a word. With what I'd been able to consume before the outbreak of craziness, I'd come pretty close to eating a normal lunch. Better write that down. Such events were becoming increasingly rare.

———

While most of the guys headed off to their afternoon classes, Marshawn and I headed back to the ISS room. We had some Shakespeare to read.

The linebacker gave me a curious sideways look as we returned to the South Wing.

"What?" I asked.

"Always thought there was somethin' goin' on with you and Miss Marie," he said quietly. "Just didn't know it was somethin' freaky."

"Believe me, it's nothing bad," I said. "Marie has ... certain needs. I'm the one she chose to help meet them. Take a psychology course next spring when you get to college. That might help explain things for you. It's not something I enjoy doing. I just want her to be safe and happy. Right now, safety takes priority over happiness."

"Uh huh," Marshawn grunted. "Betta not try that with Ny'Quesha."

We'd just have to agree to disagree on that point. Ny'Quesha earned a spanking a long time ago. I just hadn't administered it yet. Report cards would be handed out tomorrow, then we'd see.

As Morgan worked with Mrs. Stirling on one of her advanced classes, us six seniors grouped together in a back corner to start on "Hamlet" at a time I normally would have been focusing on math. Claudius seizes the thrown and marries the widowed queen before the late king, his brother who is also named Hamlet, is cold in his grave. There is concern the Norwegian prince Fortinbras may invade, something the Danes have been expecting ever since the late king killed the Norwegian king in battle some years back.

The play opens with the guards freezing their balls off on the ramparts. The ghost of the dead king shows up, freaking everybody out. Hamlet's buddy Horatio arrives and also freaks out.

The next day in court, envoys are sent to Norway to see if everything's cool and Laertes is allowed to return to school in France. Hamlet, however, is forbidden to return to his university in Wittenberg because he's been such a sulky brat ever since his dad shuffled off this mortal coil.

Horatio informs Hamlet of the ghost, which Hamlet vows to see for himself, and Polonius implores Laertes "to thine own self be true." Ophelia bats her eyes at Hamlet, Laertes goes all protective big brother and Polonius goes all protective daddy. The boy ain't right.

That night on the rampart, the ghost tells Hamlet how it all went down and demands he be avenged. Hamlet tells Horatio and the guards of his cunning plan and swears them to secrecy.

"It'd help if they put this in normal English," Jordan Johnson groused.

"Think of it as 16th-century white boys tryin' to rap," I smirked. "You've got the meter of the lines — the beat — then way the rhymes fit in."

"Don't even go there," Danny Mathis snorted.

At least Marshawn saw parallels between himself and Ny'Quesha and Laertes and Ophelia.

"Pretty 16th-century white boy betta keep his hands to hisself," the linebacker growled.

I wondered if he was aware of the big finale, where Laertes and Hamlet cut each other with the same poisoned sword, causing their deaths.

At least we weren't expected to memorize dialog. Just find a good synopsis of the story and keep up with the highlights.

At the bell, Elise grabbed her Chemistry stuff and my arm. Time for lab. We'd have to do this four more times the rest of the semester, she explained as we navigated around or through throngs of freshmen who still hadn't learned not to clog the damn halls. Labs would be on Mondays and we could expect one assignment/pop quiz each week. Debussy would probably give us one real test about halfway through the six weeks. We'd need to read as many chapters as we could to prepare for the semester final. No telling what Debussy would put on there.

"Who was your phone call from?" the tall girl asked casually as we dodged through the traffic.

"Mr. Patterson," I said. "He just wanted to congratulate me on closing on the house this morning."

"And what did Mrs. Montero and Mr. Hennings want?" she asked.

"To bust me," I snorted. "She asked what the deal was with Rhonda. I told her to ask Rhonda. Marie is not something I'm going to discuss publicly, especially at school."

Thankfully, our arrival at Mr. Debussy's room prevented further interrogation. Good thing it was Elise and not Morgan asking the questions. The little elf wouldn't have let things go so easily.

The lab exercise itself was nothing we hadn't encountered before. It helped immensely that Riley had told us what to expect. We continued with our usual division of labor. I did all the physical work, Elise handled all the paperwork and rubbed boobs on me. At least some things were still the same.

We finished up fairly early and spent a few minutes discussing how this would work with Mr. Debussy. He didn't say anything Elise hadn't already told me. We were given the option of staying to the end of the period or going back to the ISS room. I chose to go back while Elise stayed to undergo a review of the six-weeks test. She'd fill me in at study hall. My intention was to work some more algebra problems before Prof. Silverberg showed up.

I came pretty close to finishing the chapter and might have if he hadn't been early.

"Actually, I've been here since lunch," he said upon entering the room a few minutes before sixth period ended. "Let's go to the library. Miriam's been bringing her classes there today."

I loaded everything in my backpack, which took a few minutes, and groaned under the weight as I shouldered the bag.

"Do you normally carry all your books around like that?" Prof. Silverberg asked as we moved through a hallway that was blessedly empty at the moment.

"I try not to, but figured it'd be easier than visiting my locker every period today," I said. "I count this as extra weightlifting for football."

"At least you're getting something out of it," he snorted.

At the library, Mrs. Cohen's husband led me directly to a study room where he'd set up shop for the afternoon. We got started before the bell ending sixth period rang.

"My wife and I were both impressed with your team project," he started, dropping a stack of papers on the little workspace. "I understand it was not the smoothest partnership, but you managed to meet the requirements and do a quality job."

"Thank you, sir," I said.

"How did you convince Miss Devers to let the hero have three lovers at the end?" he asked. "I seem to remember you dating multiple girls was one of her main complaints about you."

"Three lovers?" I asked, confused. "I had nothing to do with that. In fact, I left all the relationship stuff up to Rhonda. I only suggested we include a secondary female character so Lady Cecily would have a reason to confront Rance."

"Well, he ended up with Lady Cecily, Fiona and Colette," the professor said.

"I never saw anything about a character named Colette," I said. "We never even discussed anything like it."

"A young Frenchwoman who accompanied Rance back to England," he said. "Lady Cecily employed her as her lady's maid, then let Rance share in the fun after he completed his penance for making Lady Cecily and Fiona worry so much."

"Mrs. Cohen did say Rhonda added some material after we finished up last weekend," I said. "I never thought to ask to see it. I was just glad I made it through alive."

"Moving on, I thought your pieces from last week showed imagination, always a good trait in a writer," the professor said. "I especially liked the way you ended the one with the succubi where the fellow with the soul-sucking job had no soul for the succubi to claim. I'm afraid Miriam was more concerned about the methods the succubi employed to claim his seed and soul."

I can't say I was surprised.

"The one about a world without magic felt a little derivative, but it was still a fun read," he continued. "I liked how you were able to build a believable plot around the lyrics to 'California Girls.' Miriam thought the one with the engineer and the witch was 'cute' — her words, not mine — and I liked the way it showed how big corporations are all too willing to put power and profit ahead of the common good, even if it proves detrimental to them in the end. But the one with the farmer and the Russian assassin may have been your best of the week. My only problem was the way it ended. It looked like you didn't highlight all of the last line when you copied and pasted. What was it supposed to be?"

Oh, hell. This again? At least Mrs. Cohen wasn't in here with us.

"Billy Bob developed an all-over tan except for the two Katya-sized handprints on his ass," I mumbled with only a little less of a blush than I had Saturday with the girls. "That wasn't meant to be included. It just felt like a good line to end on."

"That it was," Prof. Silverberg laughed. "I think we're both better off not letting Miriam hear that, though."

No argument here, I thought.

"I think I'm going to show a couple of these to Marty and see if we can include them in the doujinshi we're planning," the professor said. "Make it an anthology instead of just one story."

Professor Silverberg leaned back in his chair and gave me a speculative look.

"I think a couple of these could be developed into screen treatments," he said. "Have you ever considered screenwriting? UCLA has a very good program. I could talk to some people for you."

"I wasn't planning on going that far for college," I said. "I haven't really thought about a major, either, but it'll probably be something business-related."

"You should think about it," he said. "They'll need some polishing and expanding, but I could see 'Wings Over Westminster' and the one with the Russian girl being viable projects for some independent filmmakers."

The one downside I could immediately identify was having to spend more time around Rhonda Devers to flesh out the team project. But I'd already planned out more scenes for Billy Bob and Katya. I could see it being sort of an action-adventure romcom, it just needed a few explosions and car chases to go with Katya's bouncing boobs.

"With you joining this independent study program, Miriam has granted me more say in your assignments for the rest of the semester," the professor said. "I want you to spend this week expanding on the two pieces mentioned. We'll worry about polishing later. Think you can have me 5,000 words combined for next week?"

"That shouldn't be a problem," I said, knowing which story would get more attention.

"I'd also like to visit with you more about the doujinshi," he said, "but that should probably be done outside of school. And Marty, my graphic artist friend, works a real job. Are you available on weekends?"

"I will be this weekend," I said. "If we go very deep in the playoffs, we'll eventually start playing Saturday games."

"Let's plan on something for Saturday afternoon, then," he said. "Marty might actually be awake by then."

"Sounds good," I said, feeling pretty sure I hadn't already committed to anything else for the time slot. I was ready for a Saturday off after these last few weeks.

I agreed to meet the professor and his buddy at the Osborne house and gave him the address. I figured the worst that could happen was Grandma would banish me to the office while she and Karen (and however many other females in my life would demand a say) made decorating decisions. Really, I just needed a place to shit, shower and sleep on occasion. I could eat out if I had to and Marie could take care of my laundry. If all my girlfriends didn't claim it for themselves.

Assured I still had an A in the class, I grabbed my backpack and returned to the ISS room. The trip was notable in that I managed to escape the library without encountering either Rhonda or Mrs. Grady. Pretty good for a Monday.

Back at my desk, I resumed working on algebra problems. My goal was to finish them before the bell. Morgan, of course, had other ideas.

"Tell me what happened at lunch," she demanded as the others worked on various subjects.

At least the little elf kept her voice down and acted like she was helping me, thus avoiding Mrs. Stirling's ire.

"You were there," I said quietly. "Mr. Patterson called and I went outside to talk to him."

"But how did you get away from Hennings and Montero?" my first official girlfriend persisted. "They looked ready to haul you off right then and there."

"I already told Elise," I sighed. "Didn't she tell you?"

"I want to hear it from you," Morgan insisted. "And look at me. Elise didn't know if you were lying."

"I told them Rhonda appeared to be upset with the way I treated my pet yesterday," I said with more than a little exasperation as I stared into those big, sparkly brown eyes. "I just didn't specifically say Marie is an adult human. It's not my fault if some people now think she's not. Now, I'd really like to get these problems finished before practice."

Somewhat amazingly, Morgan let me get on with my work. But her expression indicated the subject was merely tabled, not dismissed.

I managed to finish the last problem before the bell, thinking I could go over them with Cody in study hall, and loaded up. It was time to go imitate a Wing-T quarterback for a couple of hours.

My four teammates were out the door before me. I found the differing ways they dealt with the traffic interesting. Reggie and Jordan, skill position guys, dipped and darted as they slipped through narrow openings somehow without being touched. Marshawn and Danny, who hit people for a living, just barged straight ahead, leaving mayhem and chaos in their wake.

I followed behind Marshawn, taking care not to step on any fallen freshmen. They'd learn to get out of the way one of these days. Or at least the survivors would.

The gods or fates or whatever must have decided to pay me back for my lunchtime performance when I got to the fieldhouse. I walked into the training room to get taped to find one open table. Manned by Stephanie Tucker. The line at Cody's table was long enough that I'd risk being late if I waited. A suspicious person might think it'd been purposely set up that way. I swallowed hard, gritted my teeth and hopped up on Stephanie's table.

I was expecting the worst. It didn't take long to arrive.

"Kinsey said Kirsten wants to have a sleepover this weekend," the head coach's daughter said casually as she swathed my lower legs in prewrap.

"Sounds fun," I replied.

"She wants to have it at your new house so we can watch movies on your big TV," Stephanie said, working hard to maintain her casual tone while still making sure she wrapped my ankles properly.

"We?" I asked, causing her to pink considerably.

"Kinsey said I'm invited," she almost whined as her blush increased. "We've had sleepovers before."

"Uh huh," I grunted noncommittally.

"So, we can use your place?" she asked a little too hopefully, practically bursting into flame.

"You'll have to clear it with my Aunt Patty first," I said, causing the girl to pout prettily. Had she been getting lessons from my girlfriends behind my back? Better be on guard for a big-eyed adorable look. "And your dad. Probably shouldn't bother him about something like that as long as we're in the playoffs."

That caused the pout to become a frown. But Stephanie wasn't giving up easily.

"My birthday's in January during the semester break," she said. "Maybe we could do it then. I'll be 15!"

And you'll still be John Tucker's little girl. Maybe the place on Little Cayman would be mine by then. I bet that would be a good time to go check it out.

"You'll still have to clear it with Patty and Coach," I said as she finished wrapping my ankles. "Thanks for the tape job."

I got the hell out of there and went to finish dressing out. I could only hope this wouldn't be a daily occurrence moving forward.

I really wasn't opposed to my cousins having a slumber part at the Osborne house. As long as they kept the guest list to a manageable size. And had adequate adult supervision — Aunt Patty, Grandma, Karen, Dr. Ramakrishnan. Maybe Arlene could be convinced to cross the alley. Better add Miss Carla, too. She had military experience.

My main concern was finding a credible reason to not be in the house. Or even the neighborhood. Hell, even the country. Better check and see how Morgan was getting along with those passports.