16 comments/ 13899 views/ 10 favorites Knowing Your Strength By: JimBob44 *Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in sexual activity are at least 18 years of age. Chapter 1 Jason Breaux looked over at Rachael Thibodeaux and sighed. At the front of the classroom, Coach Dumas was droning on and on about some French King and the politics that led to the French Revolution and who cares? The scrawny eighteen year old tried to pay attention but again felt his eyes being drawn to the attractive blonde cheerleader. As if she knew she was being watched, Rachael slowly uncrossed her long tanned legs and crossed them again, her short cheerleading skirt riding up to expose more of her thighs. The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Because they were having a pep rally in the gymnasium, their day was shortened by an hour. "Dude, what the fuck you looking at, huh?" Harrison Smith, Rachael's boyfriend demanded, shoving Jason back into his seat. "Nothing, I was just..." Jason stammered. "Calling my girlfriend 'nothing,' huh?" Harrison sneered an shoved Jason again. "Mr. Smith, there a problem?" Fred Dumas called out. "No sir, Coach," Harrison smiled. "Keep your fucking eyes the fuck off my girlfriend, bitch," Harrison demanded and spun around. Jason blinked back his tears; the last shove had been very hard. He also hated being so scrawny and weak. Entering the hallway, Jason went to his locker and gathered the books he would need for homework. He heard them before he saw them; high pitched happy squeals. He turned in time to see Rachael's cute ass swishing past, along with Amy's bone thin buttocks and Dana's full bottom. "What the fuck I tell you? Huh? Keep them fucking eyes..." Harrison snapped, slamming Jason's locker door on the boy's hand. "And that's one detention for you, Mr. Smith," Fred's voice boomed out. "Oh, and uh, don't bother dressing out; you're not playing in tonight's game. I do not let bullies play for the Avengers." "But Coach..." Harrison protested. "Better have Sister Lucy look at that; might need some ice on it," Coach Dumas murmured, examining Jason's hand. Jason could not answer, his eyes streaming tears of pain and of frustration. Sister Lucy held an ice pack to the boy's hand for five minutes, and then dismissed the student to the pep rally. Entering the gym, Jason made his way to the seniors' bleachers. Several of the males glared at him; Harrison having informed them of his removal from that evening's game. Harrison's version of the story made Jason out to be the entire instigator of the altercation, thus the entire reason the Avengers were doomed to lose against the DeGarde Bulldogs. "Two bits, four bits, six bits a dollar! All for the Avengers, stand up and holler!" the cheerleaders screamed, extolling the sophomore class to stand up and show their school spirit. "We lose tonight, I'm kicking your fucking ass, bitch," Irwin Trahan snarled into Jason's ear. The cheerleaders moved down to the junior section and again repeated their chant. After the pep rally in which the sophomore class won the Avengers' Banner for most school spirit, Jason endured several shoves and attempted trippings as the students made their way out of the gymnasium. Jason walked to his car, a 1998 Mustang, artic white with black trim, and left the school grounds. He did not turn toward DeGarde; he was not going to attend that evening's football game. "Hey Tiger, how was school, huh?" his father smiled when Jason entered the house. "It was all right," Jason shrugged. He did not tell his father of Harrison's physical abuse, or of Irwin's threats; it would do no good. His dad would call Brother Dominick, Harrison and Irwin would be called into the office, they would deny it all, then the abuse would triple. "You're a little early," his mother said from the kitchen. "Pep rally," Jason explained. "Oh, you going to the game? You ought to go; how Else that Rachael girl ever going to see you?" his mother smiled. "Come on, Mom," Jason protested and fled to his room. Friday night was spent doing homework and then playing on his computer. Jason yawned several times, but forced himself to stay up until eleven o'clock, an hour past his normal bedtime. That was the only thing that differed from the weekday; he stayed up an extra hour. In the morning, he would sleep an extra hour to make up for the late evening. At eleven o'clock, he knelt down by his bed, said his prayers, and then scrambled into his bed. "God, I really whish there was some way to just..." Jason mumbled. "There is," a soft female voice caressed his ear. Jason felt soft lips touch his, soft hands caressing his face. He smiled as the soft hands rubbed up and down his scrawny arms then his chest. "There is a way, dear sweet Jason," the female's voice whispered to the eighteen year old boy. The soft lips kissed him again. "The thing you're most afraid of is the only thing you must do," she continued. "You can do it; I know you can," she said and kissed him again. Jason woke up the next morning and remembered the strange dream. He looked around, but of course, the bedroom had no females there. "So what you doing to day, Tiger?" his dad asked as he prepared to go to St. Elizabeth's Trauma Center for his day's work as an X-Ray Technician. "I don't know," Jason mumbled. "Got a lawnmower in the garage; I bet it'll fit your hands just right," his dad said, playfully smacking his son on the butt as he left the house. "Ha ha, Dad," Jason groused. "He's right; the grass is getting a little long there," his mother said as she placed a plate of waffles on the table for him. Jason's father, Chuck Breaux, was a burly man but was fairly short at only five feet, two inches tall. Jason's mother, Patricia Sampier Breaux was a slight figure of a woman, also standing at only five feet, two inches. At five feet, four inches, Jason was taller than his mother and father, but still much shorter than Harrison Smith and the other football players of St. Thomas Aquinas. "Oh, the radio said y'all lost last night, seventeen to three," his mother said. "Tough break, kiddo." Jason almost dropped the glass of milk. Chapter 2 "God, I just wish..." Jason mumbled, nearly in tears as he lay down in his bed that Sunday evening. He didn't know where or when, but he knew Irwin Trahan would be waiting for him, to deliver that ass kicking he promised. "There is," the soft female voice assured him. "Mm," Jason murmured as the girl kissed him softly. "There is; you just have to do the one thing that has you gripped by fear," the voice said and again, soft lips touched his. A soft tongue caressed his lips and he opened his mouth in a quiet moan. "Oh, dear sweet Jason, oh I do want you to break the chains of fear," the soft voice moaned. He felt the soft hands gently stroke his arms, his chest. "I do want it so badly," the voice moaned and stroked his belly. "But you have to do it, Jason; I cannot do it for you," the voice husked as soft hands pulled his underwear down. "Oh," Jason groaned. "I will give you my strength, I promise," the voice whispered and Jason felt a warmth, a heat envelop his cock. " "Oh, my dear, dear Jason," the voice crooned as Jason felt the heat stroking up and down his cock. "Oh I love you," the soft voice moaned as he ejaculated mightily. He dreamed of a girl with eyes of blue; the blue so light they almost looked white and hair of white. Jason woke up in the morning, extremely embarrassed; his underwear felt sticky. "He peeled them down and off and frowned; there was a few flecks of blood inside of his briefs. He did not have time to ponder this; he had to get ready for school. Irwin made good his threat during Physical Education class, jamming a basketball into Jason's stomach, hard. When Jason's back was turned, Irwin savagely kicked the boy's legs out from under him. Then, just before Coach Dumas blew the whistle, signaling the end of the class, Irwin smashed the basketball into Jason's face. At lunch time, wit the halls crowded with other students, Irwin shoved Jason, hard, into his locker, causing a cut on Jason's face. "Fucking bitch; we lost to DeGarde because of you," Irwin hissed hatefully. Sister Lucy dabbed some antibacterial cream onto the small cut then sent Jason on his way. His mother clucked over the cut, fed the family their dinner, then made Jason a batch of chocolate chip cookies, soft and gooey. The cookies were good; his mother knew her way around a kitchen. But the cookies did not make up for a miserable day at school. And Rachael had looked as beautiful as always. In History class, she had edged her skirt up higher and higher, teasing Harrison Smith. But Jason had also been privileged to see the smooth thigh, and a very quick glimpse of Rachael's pink panties. Rachael knew that pink panties were a no-no at St. Thomas Aquinas; all female undergarments were to be white. That night, he lay in his bed, mind's eye seeing Rachael's smooth thigh and quick flash of panties. "Oh, my poor sweet Jason," Jason heard the soft voice croon as he lay sleeping. He felt soft fingers trace over the cut on his face, then felt soft lips touch the cut gently. "Oh, you poor baby," she crooned as she eased his briefs down. Again, his rampant erection was surrounded by liquid heat and a velvet grip. "Jason, please, please do what needs to be done; please break free of this fear, I'm begging you," she whispered in his ear. He dreamt of a girl with light blue eyes and white hair. In the morning, Jason was again embarrassed to feel his briefs sticking to him. He peeled them down and off and frowned at the sight of blood. A quick check of his penis showed the blood had not come from him. Chapter 3 Sister Lucy saw Jason in the hallway and looked quickly at the cut. "Wow, it's almost gone; that cream really did the trick," the nun commented then bustled down the hallway. "Better hope we win this time, bitch," Irwin snarled and shoved Jason hard, causing the boy to stumble. "That is one detention for you, Mr. Trahan," Sister Lucy snapped. "We got a game to..." Irwin said. "And what a shame you will not be there," Sister Lucy snapped. She got in Irwin's face, which was somewhat funny; he towered over her by seventeen inches. "Football player or not; it does not give you the right to push others around, do you understand me?" she barked. "Yes ma'am," the boy cowered. Jason's weekend seemed very short; the Avengers lost to Kimble Academy's Mustangs, 28 to 14. He lived in dread of Monday and Irwin and Harrison's wrath. "Jason, I grow weary," the soft voice whispered to him. He dreamt of the white haired blue eyed girl. She did look pale, drawn. There was more blood in his briefs that morning, frightening him. The first time, there had only been a few flecks. The second time, there were more flecks. This morning, however, it was a stain about the size of a dollar coin. Irwin did not wait until P.E. class; he did not even wait for Jason to enter the school. "Fucking bitch; we lost because of you," Irwin snarled, slamming Jason's hand in his car door. Sister Lucy was unable to do more than put ice on the injured hand. His mother did give the school permission to bring Jason to St. Elizabeth's Trauma Center. An x-ray showed that his fingers were not broken, though. Even though Jason was left handed, he would quickly find out just how much he depended on his right hand to do most tasks. "Jason, I cannot take much more," the soft voice whispered to him as he reentered the school building, right hand securely bandaged. Jason whirled around but could not see the girl. "Please," she whispered and he felt her fingers lovingly touch his cheek. "But I'm not strong enough," Jason protested out loud. "Yes you are; you're much stronger than you think you are," the girl said. He entered World History and took his usual seat. Rachael smirked at his hand, smirked at a grinning Irwin. She caught Harrison's eye and slowly opened her legs. Chapter 4 "Jason, I have given you all the strength I can," the girl whispered in his ear even as his cock was sheathed in velvet warmth. Her lips gently touched his. "Please, please, Jason, face your fears," she whispered, voice urgent. "But I..." he groaned, close to climax. "Yes you can," she whimpered as his sperm coursed through his cock. That morning, his briefs were sticky from blood; he was frightened at the amount he found. "It is all I have," she whispered. He whirled around, like a puppy chasing his tail, but did not see the girl with white-blonde hair and pale blue eyes. She giggled lightly, and then Jason heard a slight moan, as if the girl was in pain. Jason rinsed his briefs in the bathroom sink as best he could, but managed to get rid of very little of the blood. He hoped his mother would not ask about the blood, or about the soggy briefs in the hamper. "How's the hand?" his father asked. "Any trouble picking that nose?" "Hush you," his mother smiled tightly, playfully slapping his father on the shoulder. "Now how'd you manage to get it stuck in the door again?" his father asked, examining the hand again. "I don't know," was Jason's response. Again, even though he was left handed, Jason quickly found out he relied on his right hand a great deal. "It must be today, dear sweet Jason, please don't let me down," he heard a whisper. Anthony Horner, one of his few friends scowled as Jason told him why his hand was in a bulky bandage and muttered that 'something ought to be done to them bullies.' "Uh huh, what you going to do?" Jason asked. Coach Dumas excused Jason from Physical Education class because of his hand so Jason did not have to endure Irwin's abuse. Since he and Anthony usually sat in the library to eat their lunch, they were safe from torment there too. "Ha!" Anthony crowed as he beat Jason at a game of Speed Chess. "Wow! That was fast!" Jason heard her whisper soft voice and twisted to see if he could see her. "What you looking at?" Anthony asked. "Oh, I was just looking to see who cared that you finally beat me at one stinking game," Jason taunted. "Let's go!" Anthony challenged, beating on the table. "Come on, big mouth! Set 'em up!" Jason entered World History and took his assigned seat. Rachael flounced to her seat and smiled at Harrison. Jason watched as she quickly flipped the hem of her uniform skirt to reveal a black thong, undergarments that were very much against school regulations. "What the fuck you looking at?" Harrison growled at Jason. "Now, Jason, now," he heard her weak, urgent whisper. "Looking at your skank ass girlfriend flashing her black thongs at her faggot boyfriend," Jason yelled at the top of his lungs, getting to his feet. "Why, bitch? What the fuck you looking at?" Jason didn't see the punch coming. Nor did he see the second one. Sister Lucy held an ice pack to his face. "Ambulance's on its way," she said. A mild concussion kept him in St. Elizabeth Trauma Center overnight. His father sat by his bed the entire night. At daybreak, his mother came and drove both father and son home. "That boy that hit you got himself expelled," his mother informed him. "And that horrible little girlfriend of his got herself suspended for three days for inappropriate undergarments." Jason's mother gave him another pain pill, fluffed his pillows and left the room. He had a dreamless sleep, woke up in the middle of the night, relieved his bursting bladder, staggered back to bed and slept soundly. In the morning, he checked; his underwear was spotless. "Honey, you sure?" his mother asked as he got dressed for school. "Yeah, Mom; I really don't want to miss any more class," Jason shrugged. Again, he found out how much his right hand affected his driving abilities, but made it to school. Irwin Trahan was waiting for him. Jason smiled, which slightly unnerved the bully. "Hey Bitch," Irwin hissed hatefully, preparing to shove Jason. "What?" Jason yelled, face a mask of shock. "You want suck my cock? What? Are you some kind of faggot?" Irwin looked around, horrified as he saw other students pointing and laughing at him. "I'll deal with you later," Irwin spat. "No, you loser, I don't think so," Jason screamed at him. "I'm not gay, all right?" "You two, Brother Dominick's office. NOW!" Sister Lucy snapped, pointing. Jason snickered as a shame-faced Irwin stomped toward the school administrator's office. "Cute, Mr. Breaux," Sister Lucy whispered, then stomped off to deter other students from getting too rowdy. Jason laughed, and then followed Irwin to Brother Dominick's office. Inside the office, Jason gasped as a girl looked up from the papers she was holding. He had seen the girl before, in the darkness of his bedroom. And now, here she was, in the daylight. Hi!" the blonde haired girl said, fixing Jason with her light blue eyes. "I'm Angel Hart; I just moved here from Purgatory; you ever heard of it? It's this little bitty town in ...." Irwin stared at them, confused. The girl was gorgeous; why was she ignoring him and talking to the loser, Jason? "Hi, I'm..." Jason stammered. "Oh, I know who you are," Angel whispered, smiling. "Believe me, I know who you are. You're my salvation." The End. I write these stories for my pleasure. I post them here for your enjoyment. Thank you for reading my story. Yes, it was stupid. Yes I suck. Yes it jumped around too much. Yes there were too many people to keep track of. Yes I need an editor. Have a nice day. Knowing Your Strength Pt. 02 Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age. ***** Chapter 1 Angel Hart tittered as she felt Jason Breaux's eyes on her. Just before entering their home room, she turned and gave him a quick kiss on his lips. That little kiss would have resulted in the both of them being suspended for three days from St. Thomas Aquinas, the Catholic High School in Bender, Louisiana. As it was, the only ones that saw the intimate kiss were Bailey Chopin and Anthony Horner and neither one would tattle. Amy Brodt and Dana Duluth looked on in confusion as the attractive blonde took a seat next to the scrawny Jason Breaux; didn't she know Jason was a loser? Didn't Angel know that Irwin Trahan, Bobby Theritot, Steve Guillory and a few other football players wanted her? Didn't she know that they would be much better for her to be seen with rather than some loser that spent his time in the library playing speed chess? Angel sensed their eyes on her and turned and gave the bone thin red head and full figured African American girls a dazzling smile. Caught off guard, the two cheerleaders returned the smile. Rachael Thibodeaux entered the classroom, glared at Jason Breaux, glared at Angel Hart, and then flounced to her seat. "Why'd she give you the look?" Jason asked Angel. "Why'd she give YOU the look?" Angel asked, shrugging her shoulders. "Well, because I got her dumb ass boyfriend kicked out of here," Jason explained. "No you did not," Angel smiled softly, placing a hand on his arm. "He got himself kicked out." "Okay, but what about you?" Jason pressed. "Don't know; guess she's still mad because I told her I didn't have time to be a cheerleader," Angel smiled and playfully pinched Jason's scrawny bicep just as Sister Andrea entered the classroom. Rachael fought down her nausea; she had not eaten breakfast that morning but still her stomach was roiling. She had not eaten breakfast in four days which meant she would be starving by the time Lunch period rolled around. "Here, Sister," Rachael called out when Sister Andrea called her name. For Jason, school went by very slowly. The highlight for him was playing speed chess in the library. "Come on, us girls against these pathetic boys," Angel said, grabbing Bailey's hand. "Yeah!" Bailey enthused. She tried briefly to pull her hand from Angel's powerful grip, but Angel refused to let go, so Bailey gritted her teeth and squared off against Anthony while Angel squared off against Jason. "And go!" Angel laughed, making the first move. Bailey had never been able to beat either Anthony or Jason, but today, the pieces were falling off the board in a rapid-fire fashion. "Checkmate!" Bailey whooped, jumping to her feet and dancing around, hands high in the air. "Holy cow!" Anthony said, baffled at the ease Bailey had managed to beat him. "Switch sides," Jason demanded. Bailey smiled sheepishly as Sister Agnes frowned darkly at her and sat down across from Jason. "Ready?" Angel asked, smiling happily at Bailey. "Yeah!" Bailey laughed. Again, Angel took Bailey's hand and again, Bailey blazed through move after move. "You got to be kidding me!" Jason said as Bailey had his king cornered. He shook his head as Bailey again did a ridiculous victory dance. Bailey was short, barely four foot ten, and round. Born to a single mom, Bailey's paternal grandmother raised her. Fussing by the infant Bailey was controlled by Grandma stuffing cookies into the child's mouth. Crying was halted by popsicles. Happiness was rewarded by cakes. From her mother, Bailey had inherited unruly blonde brown red hair that refused to be tamed, sticking out at all angles, and warm brown eyes. From her father, she inherited compassion and intelligence. From both her mother and father abandoning her; her mother because she was a crack addict and her father because he was a career military man, Bailey had inherited extremely low self-esteem. "You are being too loud; there are others trying to study," Sister Agnes hissed to the quartet. The four friends gathered up their chess boards and left the library. "Whatever, Chopin," Jason smirked as Bailey continued to taunt the two boys. At the end of the day, both Jason and Angel walked into their World History class. Rachael again glared at the couple, and then gasped out loud as Jason gave her the finger. "Don't do that; that's not nice," Angel scolded Jason, slapping his hand. Rachael actually felt a twinge of gratitude toward Angel but shoved that feeling away and again glared at Jason. After class, Angel went to her locker and smiled as Amy Brodt waited for her. "Hey, Amy, what's up?" she smiled at the bone thin red head. "Hey, um, you um, you know um Steve um, Steve Guillory?" Amy asked. "He um, he wanted me to let you um, let you know he um he wants to go out with you." "And?" Angel smiled. She placed a comforting hand on Amy's arm. "Listen, I know Steve wants to go out with me; I know Irwin Trahan wants to go out with me too." Angel looked into Amy's crystal green eyes and lost a little of the smile. "And I know you're having sex with them and a few other football players and you're hoping that one of them will like you," Angel went on. Amy gasped and tried to pull away from Angel but the hand rested firmly on her forearm, preventing her from moving. "And you don't need to do that," Angel went on. "None of those boys like you; they laugh at you behind your back, call you 'The Board.'" "But, but," Amy stammered, tears springing to her eyes. "Now Anthony Horner?" Angel went on. "He really likes you; thinks you're beautiful." "But he's an absolute nothing," Amy tried to sneer. "Would you rather have an absolute nothing that thinks you're everything?? Or be used by people that think you're an absolute nothing?" Angel asked, taking her hand off of Amy's forearm. Amy jerked away and ran down the hall, tears streaming down her freckled face. Chapter 2 Jason smiled as Angel came out of the school building. He opened the passenger door of his car and she slid in. "Go ahead," Angel smiled when Jason started the car. "Go ahead what?" Jason asked. "Go ahead and ask; I know you're dying to know what I'm doing here. With you," Angel smiled. "Well yeah, I mean, look at you," Jason said. "Quite simple, really," Angel said. "Take me to Clark's; I want a malt." "You're not with me because you want a malt," Jason said, but drove to the diner. "In 1995 I was a student at...well, it really doesn't matter," Angel said. "Wait, what? In 1995? That would make you..." Jason struggled to do the math. "Two chocolate malts," Jason told the blonde girl that skidded to a stop next to his car. "And I was one of the cheerleaders, as you can imagine," Angel said as the girl skated away. "Bet you were," Jason agreed, admiring the waitress's muscular buttocks as they undulated in her snug red short shorts. It was an unseasonably warm November day and the three waitresses were wearing their usual Clark's Drive-In uniforms of very snug white tee shirt with 'Clark's Drive-In' emblazoned across their chests and snug red shorts that left a goodly portion of their buttocks exposed. "That is so rude!" Angel said, putting a playful hand over Jason's eyes. "I'm talking to you!" He smiled sheepishly at her. She shook her head but smiled. "And there was this girl, Polly," Angel went on as the girl came back with their malts. "Wait, what was your name back then? Were you still Angel Hart?" Jason asked. "Doesn't matter," Angel said and Jason shrugged. "Anyway, Polly wanted to be one of us; God, she wasn't! I mean, she just won't! I mean, yeah, she was pretty and had a really nice body, but she just wasn't," Angel said and gave her malt a good hard suck. "And I got real tired of that loser following me around everywhere always kissing my ass trying to be my best friend so I decided to shit on her birthday cake," Angel said and looked out the passenger window. "You?" Jason asked, shocked. She had been nothing but sweet, loving, compassionate from the moment he'd met her. "Anyway," Angel said, and dabbed at a tear. "I invited her to my house; man! Should have seen her! She was just about pissing on herself; like she'd just won the lottery or something." Angel choked back a sob. "Jason, she just wanted to be my friend, but because she rode a bike to school, instead of having a nice car; because she had bargain brand clothes instead of designer labels, I hated her," Angel admitted. Jason let Angel sob it out; he didn't know what else to do. "Anyway, she comes over and she's all happy and stuff and I get her in my room and I tell her that I got this really big secret and I'm so embarrassed but I'm hoping she'll understand and not get all freaked out," Angel mumbled, looking out the passenger window. Angel brought the straw to her lips, sighed and put the cup into the cup holder of the console. "Anyway, she's all like 'sure, whatever; we're friends right?'" Angel said and pulled her eyes from the window. "I mean, no, we weren't friends; if we'd have been friends, I wouldn't have had Erica hiding in the closet; see, my bedroom had these louvered doors on the closet and one of the slats was real loose and you could take it out and Erica's in there with her new camera, her dad got her this brand spanking new Nikon camera; thing cost like a thousand bucks back then," Angel went on She looked at her hands, folded in her lap then looked back out of the passenger window. "And I tell Polly I'm in love with her and give her this real big kiss and at first she's all freaked out and so I start like I'm crying and she's trying to tell me it's all right and she's in love with me too," Angel said. "God, that's mean!" Jason said, a little anger creeping into his voice. "I know," Angel said softly. "Anyway, we make out for a while, then I start taking off my clothes and I can tell Polly doesn't really want to, but she does and I make her eat me and suck my boobs and..." Jason put his malt into the second cup holder; his appetite gone. "And Erica's taking all kinds of pictures and then Polly leaves and Erica and I go to her house and we go in her dad's darkroom and get about five or six real good ones; showed Polly's face but doesn't show mine and shows her being all lezzie and stuff," Angel said. "We made a bunch of copies and the next day Erica and I put them in all the cheerleaders' all the all the jocks' lockers and it's not even first period and everyone's laughing at Polly and she sees one of the pictures and runs screaming out of there," Angel said. Jason sat, a rage for this poor Polly's treatment building up in him. "Believe me, I'm much more angry with me than you could ever be," Angel admitted. "I don't think so," Jason yelled at her. "You have any idea what it feels like always..." "Anyway, I didn't care; I'd got her off my ass; that's all I cared about," Angel said. Jason was ready to explode but Angel put her hand on his arm and he felt an immediate calm wash over him. "That night, Erica and Jackie and Megan and I, we're all in my room looking at the pictures and laughing and my mom says I've got another friend there and next thing I know, there's Polly standing there and we all just laugh at her. "'That was a good one,' Polly said to me," Angel said. "'Real funny, but see how you like this,' she said and pulled out this big gun." Angel looked at Jason. "She shot me in the head; right above my right eye," Angel pointed to a barely visible white mark. "Wait, it didn't kill you?" Jason asked. "It killed me instantly," Angel corrected. "The very instant my life ended, your mother and father were consummating their love for each other and you were conceived." She kissed him softly on his lips. "The instant my life ended, yours began; that's why you and I are joined," she explained. "What happened to Polly?" Jason asked. "She put the gun in her mouth and killed herself," Angel said. "So, I had two sins on my soul; I made her kill me and I made her kill herself." "Is she, is she in Hell?" Jason whispered. "No," Angel smiled. She put her hands together in her lap and smiled again. "No; she was but I forgave her," Angel said. "The moment I forgave her, she was washed clean of her sins. She is in Heaven now; where she belongs." "Oh," Jason breathed in wonder. "Thanks for the malt," Angel said and disappeared. Jason looked around in shock; one minute she was sitting there and the next minute she was gone. He looked at the console and her malt cup was gone too. Chapter 3 Rachael Thibodeaux numbly took her seat in the rear of the classroom, not acknowledging the happy greetings of her friends. She had known for a few months now that she was pregnant and that it was Harrison Smith's baby. Of course, Harrison was denying any part of it, pointing out that they'd always used condoms. And he still blamed her for his expulsion from St. Thomas Aquinas. As if she had made him savagely attack Jason Breaux. Because of his expulsion, he was ineligible to play football for any other Four-A High School in the state of Louisiana. He could have gone to Flowers Military School, which was a Three-A school and played football with them, but no colleges ever scouted a Three-A school looking to give scholarships. So Harrison blamed her for his expulsion, for ruining his collegiate goals, for ruining his life. And when she'd asked him what they should do about the baby, he slapped her and told her it was her problem. Two months ago, Harrison Smith had sworn an undying love for her. Two months later, Harrison was slapping her and screaming at her and telling her their baby wasn't his problem. "Abortion," Rachael decided. "I just need to get an abortion." Sister Andrea called her name twice and finally Rachael responded with "Here, Sister." Banks Street did not care how far along a woman was; they would perform the abortion. Rachael figured that she was entering her second trimester. "And now, Thomas has an announcement," Sister Andrea said, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. Thomas Sampier got to his feet and faced the class. "We're holding a Winter Formal," he said, face a hundred shades of red. "Who's 'We?'" Sister Andrea barked. "Oh, uh, the Classical Ensemble," Thomas stammered, blush burning even hotter. "It's um, it's a dance, but instead of there being a D.J., it's just going to be us playing you know, like waltzes and rumbas and..." "Sit down, Sampier," Irwin Trahan razzed the bespectacled boy. "Do you have an announcement, Mr. Trahan?" Sister Andrea snapped. "No ma'am," Irwin said. "Anyway, like I said, it's a formal so you got to get kind of dressed up and uh..." Thomas stammered. "When is it? How much are the tickets?" Sister Andrea prompted. "Oh uh, it's like ten bucks apiece and uh it's not this Saturday but next Saturday and it starts at eight o'clock and it ends at midnight," Thomas mumbled. "Thank you Thomas," Sister Andrea said, glad the uncomfortable discussion was over. "Oh! And I have the tickets!" Thomas said brightly. "Want to go?" Jason asked Angel. She smiled at him then looked pointedly at Bailey. "Sister Andrea, May I be excused?" Rachael suddenly jumped up. "Well I..." Sister Andrea said as Rachael dashed for the door. Rachael raced down the hall to the girls' bathroom and slammed into a stall. She waited but nothing came up. She sat on the seat and tried to get her nausea under control. "All gifts are from God," she heard Angel's voice. Rachael looked under the door but could not see Angel's feet. "What?" she asked, thinking she might have imagined hearing a voice. "All gifts are from God," Angel repeated. "Even those which we do not want." "What? What do you mean?" Rachael asked, peering under the stall's walls to the left and right, but still could not see Angel's legs or feet. "He only gives His gifts to those He wants to have His gifts. And when we reject His gifts we are rejecting Him," Angel said. "And just what the fuck..." Rachael spat out bitterly. "That baby inside of you is a gift from God," Angel said softly. "What?" Rachael gasped out loud. "How did..." True, her skirts were becoming quite snug; her cheerleader's skirt was nearly impossible to button, but Rachael did not think anyone could tell. Because of her large chest, her school uniform blouses were cut a little loosely and Rachael had been 'billowing' the blouses out to hide her tummy. "You will endure much hardship," Angel whispered. "Your friends will abandon you; please do not be angry with them. They are young and afraid." The buzzer for First Period sounded. Even though she had done nothing, Rachael still flushed the commode out of habit. Entering her Geology class, Rachael remembered that she had left both purse and backpack in tier Homeroom. She sighed as she clutched the detention slip that Mr. Cousins had given her for coming to his class late. The detention would keep her there at the school until 4:15 that afternoon and the free clinic stopped taking new patients at 4:30 each afternoon. Rachael looked over and smirked at Angel's beaming face. That afternoon, she entered Sister Lucy's classroom to serve the one hour detention. Sister Lucy's idea of detention was to make the student sit, for an entire hour, ramrod straight, not talking, not reading, and just sitting. Rachael sat for first half hour weighing her options. All possible outcomes were fraught with difficulty; the most logical thing to do would be to terminate the pregnancy. She looked at Sister Lucy as the old nun sat quietly using her rosary beads. "Sister Lucy, may I have a rosary?" Rachael suddenly asked. Sister Lucy looked up at the girl. Rachael Thibodeaux was a cheerleader, blessed with bland good looks, long honey blonde hair and quite large chest. Never once had Sister Lucy observed the haughty girl demonstrate any religious inclination at all. "It is not my norm to do this," Sister Lucy admitted as she got to her feet. "Normally, I would make you sit for the entire hour; you know that. You've been here enough times." She pressed her personal rosary into the girl's hands. "This was given to me by my mother when I entered the convent," Sister Lucy said quietly. "She was so proud of her little girl becoming a bride of Christ." "Thank you, Sister," Rachael said reverently. "I'll return it a the end of the hour; I promise." She felt the beads, worn smooth by years of use. The crucifix and the face of Mary were tarnished black but Rachael could see the care the craftsman had used to forge the two silver pieces. Rachael did the sign of the cross and began reciting The Apostles' Creed. Outside, in Jason's car, Jason cleared his throat as Angel sat in the passenger seat, singing some odd song he'd never heard before. "I um, I went and got two of them tickets, um, for that Winter Formal," Jason began. "Oh! I do hope you asked Bailey; you know she's in love..." Angel happily clapped her hands together. "What? Bailey? No, no, I was planning on..." Jason sputtered. "Pull over," Angel ordered and Jason did. Angel knelt on the passenger seat and looked into his eyes. "Jason, no," she said quietly but firmly. "But why?" Jason asked. "Jason, I can't," she said, taking his twisted face into her hands. "I can't interfere in your life." But, but, you..." he faltered. "I know; I made love with you," she blushed slightly. "But that..." "I don't understand; how's that all right, but going to a dance is..." Jason argued. Knowing Your Strength Pt. 02 "Jason, I cannot change your path," Angel said firmly. She kissed him softly. "I know what I did; believe me, I know what I did," she said. "And I had to do that." She looked into his eyes. "Jason; I had to come to you, I had to make love to you," she said. "You were planning to kill yourself; you could not see beyond the pain those horrible bullies were inflicting upon you." She kissed him again. "And I could not let you do that," she said. She sat back down in the seat. "But, Jason, I cannot change your path," she said again. "But Bailey?" Jason sputtered. "She's so..." "Fat?" Angel asked. "A nerd? Not all that cute?" "Well," Jason said, blushing hotly. "Well yeah." "Jason, Jason, Jason," Angel smiled, shaking her head. "Look in a mirror lately?" "What you mean?" Jason asked hotly. "Oh nothing, toothpick," she teased lightly. "Don't worry about it, shorty." She lightly ran a hand over his hair. "Now, take me to Clark's, Porcupine; I want a hot fudge sundae," Angel smiled. "A hot fudge... Angel, its ten degrees outside!" Jason sputtered. "And?" she laughed. The poor waitress looked absolutely miserable as the December wind whipped at her. Jason ordered a small hot fudge sundae and a hot chocolate and the girl looked at him for a long moment, then nodded and skated away. "A small?" Angel asked. "You buying? I'm not made of money here," Jason asked, still mad at her for calling him 'toothpick' and 'shorty,' not to mention making fun of his hair. "Look in that wallet," she ordered. Next to the two tickets for the Winter Formal were two crisp ten dollar bills; there had only been one there earlier. The girl skated back with a large hot fudge sundae and a mug of hot chocolate. "You did say 'large,' right?" the girl asked, teeth chattering. "Uh huh," Jason agreed as Angel laughed. "Ten even," the girl intoned. "Give that poor girl a five," Angel ordered. "Angel, I don't have..." Jason said, then saw the wadded up five dollar bill in the cup holder of his console. "Thanks!" the girl said brightly. "God, I'm freezing to death just looking at that," Jason complained as Angel murmured in delight over the sundae. "So? Don't look," Angel shrugged. She finished the gooey mess before Jason finished his hot chocolate. "Please," Angel said, putting a loving hand on his arm. "Please call Bailey and ask her." "But Bailey?" Jason weakly argued. Looking into Angel's light blue eyes, he finally nodded. He was rewarded with a big smile from the beautiful blonde. Chapter 4 Bailey crunched on another carrot stick, then double-dipped it into the fat-free Ranch dressing. "Flavor free," she thought to herself as she grabbed a celery stick. At her feet, Jose and Julio, her two Chihuahuas waited, hoping she would drop something for them to nibble on. The answer to the Algebra question came to her and she quickly scribbled it down. "Bailey, telephone," her grandmother called out. "Who is it?" Bailey asked as the woman came into the living room, holding out the cordless phone. "Don't know, your Highness; I didn't ask," the woman said, plopping the phone into her granddaughter's pudgy hand. "Hello?" Bailey asked. Grandmother was in the kitchen, pulling the oven baked chicken breasts out of the oven and nearly dropped it when Bailey screamed. Jose and Julio began yapping excitedly. "God! What?" the woman snapped when Bailey came scurrying into the kitchen as fast as her short tree trunk legs would carry her. "Jason asked me!" she screamed at her grandmother. "Jason asked me to the Winter Formal!" "To the what?" the woman asked. "The Winter Formal; the Classical Ensemble is putting on this dance and Jason's taking me!" Bailey screamed. "And that's a reason to be screaming," Grandmother snapped and stamped her foot at the two small dogs as they stood, yapping. The next morning, Jason entered their home room and looked around for Angel. She was not in her usual seat. A moment later, Bailey Chopin came in, smiled widely when she saw a now blushing Jason, and took the seat to Jason's right, Angel's normal seat. "Hi!" she chirped. "Hey," Jason mumbled. Anthony took the seat to Jason's left and engaged both Jason and Bailey in a an argument over the latest 'The Walking Dead' episode. Amy Brodt looked over at Irwin and Steve and grimaced. She wanted to go to the Winter Formal; she loved to dance and Ballroom Dance was one of her favorite styles of dance. Right now, neither Irwin nor Steve would make eye contact with her; they knew she wanted one or the other to take her to the dance. She had performed oral sex on both of them earlier that morning. Both had been more than willing to fuck her face but neither had said anything about the Formal. Sister Andrea came into the classroom just after the buzzer and nearly closed the door on Rachael Thibodeaux. Rachael looked almost happy as she flounced down the aisle and sat in her usual seat in the rear of the classroom. Sister Andrea took out her book and began to call attendance. "Guillory, Steve," she called out. "Here, Sister," Steve answered. "Hebert, Ann Marie," Sister Andrea continued. Jason looked around; there was still no sign of Angel Hart. In Mr. Cousins' class, the man called attendance. "Samantha Gremillion," he called and the girl answered. "Ann Marie Hebert," he went on. In the library, Anthony smirked as Bailey took her seat next to Jason, casting fawning looks at him. "Y'all notice, no one's called Angel's name today?" Jason asked as he set up the chess pieces. "Who?" both Bailey and Anthony asked. "Angel?" Jason asked. "Angel Hart? Blonde hair? Blue eyes? Sat right next to me?" "Dude," Anthony said, shaking his head. "Who?" Bailey repeated, truly puzzled. Jason managed to beat Anthony and Bailey took Anthony's seat. Jason looked across the table, through her thick glasses into her warm brown eyes and couldn't help but smile at her. She returned the smile, and then handily beat him. "Sucks to be you," Anthony taunted him and took Jason's seat. "Sucks more to be you," Jason taunted back when Bailey blazed through Anthony's defenses as well. "But it don't suck to be me!" Bailey laughed out loud and did a little victory dance. "Miss Chopin!" Sister Agnes hissed, fighting down her smile at the silliness Bailey was displaying. "Whatever, Chopin," Jason shook his head as the trio left the library. In the supply closet just off the boys' locker room, Amy quickly pulled her panties back on. "I really want to go to..." she said. "Uh huh, whatever," Irwin Trahan sneered as he left the closet, not even bothering to close the door. Amy felt hot tears sting her eyes. Someone had once told her that the boys she let fuck her did not care for her, felt nothing but contempt for her. She couldn't remember who it was that had said those harsh words, but it seemed if the person had known what they were talking about. Amy scurried to her locker and grabbed her books just before the first buzzer sounded. Amy entered their Computer Literacy class and took her seat. "And Grandmother's taking me to Babbage's' they've got this great Petite department; we'll probably find a dress for the Formal there," she heard that fat blob telling that loser Jason. "Hey, you spit or swallow?" Doug Glassman asked as he sat down next to Amy. "What?" Amy asked, not believing what she'd heard. "Steve said you gave him a knob gobble this morning; just wondering if you spit or swallow." Doug asked, not bothering to lower his voice. Amy shot a murderous glare at Steve Guillory, but Steve was finding a spot over Sister Beatrice's head to be extremely interesting. "So do you..." Doug repeated. "Do you?" Amy shrilled at him, face burning hotly. "Mr. Glassman, find another seat," Sister Beatrice ordered. He smirked and plopped down behind Steve Guillory. In the days that followed, Amy observed Rachael quietly but firmly decline invitations to the Winter Formal. She watched Dana Duluth accept when Doug Glassman asked her, watched Ann Marie Hebert accept when Vinnie Thompson asked her; they'd been dating for years now so that was no surprise. But no one was asking her. And to Amy, that was a big surprise. On Tuesday afternoon, after pulling out of her mouth, Irwin sneered and told her point blank, "What the fuck I want to go to that faggot shit for, huh?" On Wednesday morning, as she was pulling her panties back on, Steve Guillory told her he wasn't about to spend the money renting a tuxedo, but if she'd pay for it, and for the tickets, he might take her. She slammed out of the supply closet in a rage. That afternoon, after swallowing a load of his semen, Amy was told by Robbie Robertson that he had already asked Samantha Gremillion. Chapter 5 Amy gritted her teeth that Thursday morning as she listened to Dana and Rachael talking about the dress that Dana had managed to find at Abdul's, the exclusive department store in DeGarde, Louisiana. She looked around the classroom, hoping to distract herself from listening as Dana and Rachael chattered about shoes and hair. She noticed Jason nudging Anthony and noticed Anthony glancing in her direction. "Go on, Dude," Amy heard Jason say. With mild interest, she watched Anthony get to his feet and walk down the aisle. Amy looked to her left but there was no one sitting to her left. "Hey, um, Amy, uh, hi, um, listen, you wouldn't want to um, you wouldn't want to go to that Winter Formal, um, you know, um this Saturday, with me, huh?" Anthony whispered. Amy was a millisecond away from laughing in his face, but suddenly realized that this was probably her only chance to go. "You know how to dance? She asked. "Uh yeah, I mean, kind of, I mean, my mom's aunt? I guess that'd make her my great aunt? She used to like to make me dance with her," Anthony admitted. "Ballroom Dancing," she prompted. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I guess," she sighed, nodding assent. "Really? You'll go?" Anthony squeaked. "Yeah, yeah, fine," she conceded. "Cool!" he said, then scampered away before she could change her mind. That afternoon, Amy lay in the back seat of Bobby Theriot's car as he pounded in and out of her. "Um, that Winter Formal?" she asked as he pulled out of her. "Yeah?" he asked, throwing the condom out the window. "Um, that little ass munch? Anthony Horner? He asked me," Amy said as she struggled to pull her jeans back up her thin legs. "Yeah?" Bobby laughed. He patted her on her head. "You and that little pussy have a great time, okay?" he chuckled. Amy grimaced; Bobby was supposed to get angry and demand that she go with him instead of going with that nothing, Anthony Horner. Bobby dropped her off in front of her house, already texting someone on his cell phone. Amy slammed his door and stomped into the house she shared with her father. "Hey, Pumpkin," her father called out. "Hey, Daddy," she said, sticking her head into his office. "Dinner's almost ready; about twenty minutes," he said, tearing his eyes away from the computer screen. "So how was school?" "All right," she shrugged. "Oh, I got asked to that Winter Formal." "Oh, okay, Irwin?" Barry Brodt asked. "NO, that... No, Anthony Horner," Amy said. "What's wrong with Irwin; thought you liked him?" Barry asked. "I do, but he said he doesn't want to go," Amy complained. "Anthony... He's Sean Horner's kid?" Barry asked, shutting down his computer. "I don't know," she shrugged. "Oh, wait a minute!" Barry said, getting to his feet. "The Winter Formal? Like this Saturday? When were you planning on letting me know?" "I just..." Amy protested. "Great, great; we got to get you a dress and probably shoes even though you got like twenty pairs and..." Barry complained as he scurried to the kitchen. After their meal he herded her to his car and drove them to Abdul's. "Since you only weigh twelve pounds, Babbage's isn't going to have anything in your size," he teased. "I weigh ninety four, thank you very much," she declared. "Ninety four? My left ass cheek weighs ninety four pounds," he smirked. "Not my fault, Porky," she said as they hurried out of the bitter cold into the warmth of the department store. "Nuh uh; we're not here to look at any of that stuff," he ordered as she paused in front of a cell phone display. Amy saw Bailey Chopin and an older woman in the shoe department and looked away. "Mrs. Chopin, how are you?" Barry called out, attracting the older woman's attention. "Great, just great," Amy muttered as Bailey looked up and smiled happily at seeing a classmate. Barry and Mrs. Chopin engaged in a conversation about some school function. "Anthony tell you we're double-dating?" Bailey asked Amy as she tried to take a few steps in the four inch heels. "Oh God, just fucking great," Amy groaned. Who else knew she was going with that loser? "Yeah, he's so excited," Bailey continued and looked at the shoes in the mirror. "What you think, Honey?" her grandmother asked, also looking in the mirror at the shoes. "I like them," Bailey agreed. "See you next Wednesday," Barry called out as he bustled Amy out of the shoe department. "Let me get Amy out of here before she finds some shoes she just has to have." "Ha ha, whatever Dad," Amy groused. They found a gown of deep forest green and Barry had to agree, the black pumps did look very good with the gown. "And I suppose you just have to go to T. Dayton's to get your hair done, right?" Barry asked, already pulling his cell phone out. "For Anthony? Get real!" Amy said. "Oh, okay," Barry said, a little surprised. Chapter 6 "Who are you talking to?" his mother asked and Jason nearly jumped out of his skin. "No one," he said and clipped the tie on. He'd been imploring Angel to 'pop up' or appear. He'd been imploring, begging her for nearly two weeks now, since the last time he'd seen her, but she never did appear. "You look nice," Patricia Breaux, his mother said. "Of course," he smugly preened and she rolled her eyes. "Uh huh, now don't you be acting like that in front of Bailey," she admonished. "Whatever, Mom," he said. He still wasn't excited about going to the dance with the short, fat girl with the thick glasses and frizzy hair, but Angel had turned him down. Jason took one last look at himself in the mirror and shrugged his shoulders; resolving to make the best of it. Afterward, he'd let Bailey down as gently as possible. They'd be friends but that was as far as he'd be willing to go. "Jason! Anthony's here!" he heard his dad yell out. "Behave yourself, have fun, don't stay out too late, remember we're going to nine o'clock Mass," Chuck Breaux said as Jason rushed out of the house. "That's right, that's right, who's the man, huh? Who's the man?" Anthony called out from the rear of the sleek black limousine. "Dude! We're going in a limo?" Jason crowed as he scrambled into the back. "Yeah, my mom used up some of her miles; she has to use them before New Year's or she loses them," Anthony said. "Too cool!" Jason said as the car drove the three blocks to the Chopin house. "Well don't you look nice, Jose, Julio, shut up!" Mrs. Chopin said as she opened the door for Jason. The two dogs kept up their infernal yapping and backed away when Jason reached out to pet the two of them. He stood again and saw Bailey enter the room. Her lumps of fat had been squashed into a corset so that she could fit into the snug red gown. For the first time, Jason noticed that Bailey had very large breasts and ample hips. He also noticed that her unruly mop of red blonde brown hair had been teased out. Her warm brown eyes were visible; Grandmother had given Bailey an early Christmas gift of contact lenses. "Bailey! You're beautiful!" Jason said. Brand mother suddenly bolted from the room. "Thank you," Bailey whispered. "Told you," Angel said from behind Bailey. She smiled sadly, indicating Bailey. "Do what you can to make her happy," Jason," Angel said. She began to fade away. "Never ever miss an opportunity to tell her she is beautiful and never ever let an opportunity pass to tell her you love her," Angel's voice whispered in Jason's ear. "Wow, I can't believe you're going to the dance with me," Jason said to Bailey. She smiled happily at his praise. "Wait, wait, I want a few pictures," Grandmother insisted as she came back into the room, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Thank you, Mrs. Chopin," Jason said as he posed with Bailey. Anthony did gawk at his friend when Bailey climbed into the limousine. Who knew she had breasts that large? Or a nice jiggly backside like that? At her home, Amy sat, sulking in her bedroom. "Pumpkin, I think your Prince Charming just pulled up," Amy heard her father call out. "Fucking great; let's get this over with," Amy said, grabbing her coat. She groaned; her father had Anthony in his office/man cave, showing him his shotguns. "And this here's a twelve gauge with a modified choke," Barry said, showing the gun to Anthony. "Nice," Anthony agreed. "Mine's got a full bore on it and the spreads a bit too much for anything other than rabbit hunting. Barry smirked; obviously this boy was too dense to realize why he was being shown the gun collection. "Daddy, please," Amy rolled her eyes. "Y'all have fun," Barry said. "Tell your dad I'll see him at Wednesday night's meeting, all right?" Amy was impressed with the limousine, but did not let it show. She was also impressed with how nice Bailey looked, but did not let it show. "So we're going to Bombay's Indian Café; my dad says it's like the best place," Anthony said as the sleek car cruised north on Highway 19. "Fucking hate Indian food; wish you had said something," Amy complained. She was lying; she'd never had Indian food. "Want us to stop at Taco Bell?" Jason asked, already tired of Amy's attitude. "Um, where'd you like to go? For next time?" Anthony stammered. "Like there's going to be a next time," Amy sneered. Amy stomped out of the limousine the moment the driver opened the rear door with a chastened Anthony following behind her. The driver smiled as Bailey and Jason got out, holding hands. Amy had to admit, the interior of the restaurant did smell amazing. Given the large number of people in the dimly lighted restaurant, this was a popular place to dine. "Ah yes, Horner, right this way," Hashim smiled and guided them to an intimate booth. "You um, what's good here?" Bailey asked, looking a the thick menu. "I um, I don't know," Jason admitted, looking at the confusing food names. He turned to her. "This um, this is my first time being here," he said, then lowered his voice. "Um, this um, this is my um, my first date, you know?" "Really?" she squealed happily. "Mine too!" "So um, you um, you know what you like here?" Anthony asked Amy. "No, fucking told you; hate Indian food," Amy snapped. With the waiter's assistance, the four of them ordered, and then sat in silence. For Anthony, it was a miserable silence, for Amy it was a triumphant silence. Jason and Bailey just stared at each other, happy with the silence. "And here you go, soup," Hashim said, serving the first course. "Careful, lime wedge in bottom." "And what you do with that?" Jason asked him. "Some eat it, some squeeze it into the soup, some just leave it," Hashim shrugged. "I'm going to eat mine," Jason declared. Amy had to admit, the soup was delicious and the lime enhanced the savory taste. As soon as the soup bowls were taken, Hashim put a thin bread on the table with a plate of four small bowls of sauces for the bread. Knowing Your Strength Pt. 02 "Oh, I like the green one," Bailey announced. "Oh my God!" Anthony clutched at his throat. "God, Bailey! My mouth is on fire!" "You big sissy," Jason teased, even though sweat was forming on his forehead. "The brown one's pretty nice," Amy offered. "Thought you hated Indian food," Jason remarked, killing Amy's gracious mood. "Cute, Dude, real cute," Anthony grumbled at his friend. "Don't," Bailey admonished Jason, placing a pudgy hand on his upper thigh. The bread gone, Hashim them brought out the rice and their individual meals. "Oh my God!" Amy said after putting one of her shrimp into her mouth. "What?" Anthony asked, afraid that she was finding more fault. "Here, try this," Amy said, holding out a shrimp she'd skewered on her fork. He did and nodded his head in approval. "Want to see what the Lamb Tandori's like?" he offered and she dug her fork in, stabbing a sizeable chunk of the lamb. "I thought..." Jason almost said again when he felt Bailey's hand on his thigh. "Here, try this," she offered, holding out a forkful of her Lamb Boona. "Damn Bailey; you like spicy stuff, huh?" Jason complained as the fiery stew made its way down his protesting throat. "Big sissy," Anthony commented. "And how is it?" Hashim asked, refilling their water glasses. "This is some of the best stuff I've ever had," Amy blurted out. "I really like this," Bailey agreed, indicating her Lamb Boona. "Put some rice, soaks up the sauce," Hashim advised as he turned to attend to other customers. "The driver smiled as he opened the limousine door; the bitchy red head was actually smiling and was walking side by side with the boy. The other couple were fairly wrapped up in each other. "And how was it; I've never eaten here," he asked. "It was really good," Amy said. "The Shrimp Tiki is awesome." "Lamb Boona's the best," Bailey announced. "Yeah, if you never want to feel your tongue again," Jason complained. The limousine whisked them to St. Thomas Aquinas, where the gymnasium had been converted into a Winter Ballroom. "Um, can we, I um, uh, I'd like a couple of pictures of, um, of us," Anthony said as they entered the gymnasium and spotted Connie Edwards' photo booth. "Sure," Amy shrugged. She felt Anthony's arm encircle her slim waist as Connie snapped the first shot. She was a cheerleader, had been a cheerleader for four years, and therefore was one of the popular kids at this school. But this was the first time she'd been asked to one of the functions. She had fucked and sucked almost every athlete and popular boy at their school, which should have made her very popular. But this was the first time she was with someone that wanted photographic proof of a date with her. She couldn't remember ever being out on an actual date; all of her previous dates consisted on going from her driveway straight to the Basin. None of her 'dates' had ever taken her to a restaurant; her 'boyfriends' considered feeding her their tube steaks to be meal enough. Amy turned and looked at Anthony, mouth open in shock. She had thought Anthony was a total nothing; however, she was the one that was a total nothing. "Thank you," she said humbly, touching the side of Anthony's face. Connie snapped that pose as well. "Come back in an hour and pick out the one you want copies of, okay?" Connie asked. "Can I have one of them?" Amy quietly asked Anthony as they made their way to the entrance to the Ballroom. "Just one? I'm getting six of them," Anthony said. "One for me, one for my mom and dad, and one for my grandmother; she's in a nursing home and then..." Connie lowered he camera slightly to take the photographs of the five foot four inch Jason and the four foot ten inch Bailey then had to raise it up again as Doug Glassman, all six foot three inches of him and Dana Duluth, all six feet of her, came in. She also adjusted the lighting; Doug's lightly tanned skin would be slightly washed out, but if she didn't increase the light, Dana would be nothing but a dark smudge. The Classic Ensemble finished a droning waltz and Mr. Cousins, the faculty advisor for the seven musicians decided they'd try a lively foxtrot. "Oh, a foxtrot!" Amy said. "Please tell me you..." Anthony quickly grabbed her and guided her through the steps. "I um, I Googled this junk," Jason admitted to Bailey. "I think I know how to do this." He didn't know how to do a foxtrot, but he was trying and Bailey gave Jason credit for trying. He didn't know how to rumba either and hat to watch Anthony and Amy for a moment before deciding to try that. "Now this is more like it," Jason told her as another waltz began. "Why? Because it's slow?" Bailey teased, eyes glowing with happiness. "No, because I finally get to hold you," Jason admitted. "Oh," she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "I love you," Jason mumbled into her hair. "What?" Bailey asked, unsure she'd actually heard his words. Epilogue. Every now and then, Jason thinks he might have possibly heard Angel's voice, but he isn't really sure. Every now and then, Jason thinks he might have possibly seen Angel, long blonde hair flowing but he isn't sure. Quite often, he remembers to tell Bailey just how beautiful she is. Quite often remembers to tell Bailey he loves her. Bailey redoubled her efforts to lose weight. On the night of the Winter Formal, she weighed one hundred and sixty two pounds. By High School Graduation, she had managed to drop thirty two pounds. Bailey also found out that she could beat Jason and Anthony at video games; most of Jason and Bailey's dates were spent just cuddled together on the couch, playing Halo. Every now and then, Anthony and Amy would join them, but Amy was terrible at video games. Sean and Theresa Horner were gracious to the bone thin red head. Behind her back, Sean called Amy 'A Perfect Ten—10 inch boobs, 10 inch waist, 10 inch ass." For this, he gets a slap in the back of the head from Theresa. Anthony was suspended for three days from St. Thomas Aquinas for fighting. Doug Glassman said something derogatory about Amy and got a few jabs in the face from Anthony. On his return to class after his suspension, Anthony marched right up to a smirking Doug Glassman and again punched him in the face. "Want to say it again, Bitch?" Anthony screamed at the no longer smirking Doug as Coach Dumas dragged the boy out of the classroom. "Huh? I can do this all day, you hear?" Amy did not lose the smile the whole day; her man was willing to take on someone twice his size. Defending her honor. Not that she'd had any honor to defend but if Anthony knew that, he didn't let it show. The day Anthony Horner returned to class after his second suspension, Doug Glassman walked up to him and apologized for his remarks. The two boys shook hands, and then Doug apologized to Amy. Again, Amy did not lose her smile. She now had honor. Barry grumbled, but let Amy convert the living room into a dance floor. Then he realized, as long as he heard the music playing, he knew exactly where his Pumpkin was and what she was doing. (He'd heard rumors, hurtful gossip about his baby girl.) He would stick his head in every now and then and would see Anthony and Amy waltzing around the room, eyes firmly on each other's eyes, smiling at each other. But they were dancing; not doing that other stuff people had said his Pumpkin was doing. Rachael could not hide her pregnancy and was asked to leave St. Thomas Aquinas. The school did have a policy forbidding pregnant girls from attending classes. Brother Dominick, the school's administrator, did let her know she could complete the graduation requirements on-line and still receive her diploma that way. As soon as she was asked to leave St. Thomas Aquinas, Rachael was ordered to leave the home of her overly religious mother and step-father. Since her father's death and her mother's quick marriage to Stephen Arcenaux, her paternal grandparents turned their backs on her. A pregnancy did not thaw their hearts. Her maternal grandparents were just as zealous in their religious fervor so Rachael was essentially homeless. Her friends from school were forbidden to associate with her Harrison was still claiming the child was not his. So Rachael slept in her car at night, parking the car behind St. Thomas Aquinas Church. During the day, she would go to the public library to use their computers to do the on-line requirements for her high school diploma. When people began to edge away from her, Rachael would go to the laundry mat to wash four of the five outfits she'd managed to buy with the forty five dollars she'd had in her wallet when her mother kicked her out of the house. While her clothes washed in the large commercial washing machine, Rachael would go into the dingy bathroom of the laundry mat and clean herself up. When she wasn't clutching it fervently, Rachael wore her rosary around her neck. When she was seven and a half months pregnant, a kindly old man she'd met at the library invited her to stay at his house. Rachael stretched out in the comfortable bed; belly full, hair and body scrubbed clean. She could faintly hear her benefactor's voice and quietly got out of the bed. "No, no, typical dumb blonde cunt," she heard the man say into his throwaway cell phone. "Pregnant; says the puppy she's carrying's a girl too. She stepped back as the old man turned toward the door. "And her tits? Fucking unbelievable; tag says 'thirty six E but the thing's about to bust open, I swear," the man chortled. Rachael began to feel her limbs growing weary. She reacted as quickly as she could; returning to her room and gathering her now cleaned clothes. "Yeah, about ten minutes, stupid bitch'll be out of it; put it in her cow juice," she heard the man say. She wasn't sure what he'd put in her glass of milk but that was probably why she now felt like she was walking underwater. "Ten thousand like the last time?" the man said just as she opened the door of the home. It was her extreme fortune that Deputy Becky Yuma and her partner, Officer Mike Stevens were driving past, on routine patrol. Rachael summoned every ounce of strength to flag the cruiser down, just as the old man reached out to yank her back into his house. Rachael came to in a soft clean bed in St. Elizabeth Parish's Trauma Center. Herbert Wilson, the 'kindly old man' did not have time to dispose of the throwaway cell phone, or the five other throwaway phones in the house and Dick Davis, Sheriff of the Bender Police Department realized he was in over his head. The FBI was called in; the phone number the man had been talking to was traced back to a man in Baton Rouge. Following the chain of communication, the FBI traced everything to Mexico City, Mexico but there the trail abruptly ended. In Herbert Wilson's home, trace evidence was found of three other girls that had disappeared from the Bender/DeGarde area. Herbert agreed to turn State's evidence, in exchange for being put into the Federal Witness Program. Unfortunately, though, Hebert Wilson was found strangled to death in his cell before he could be moved to the first hideout. For her protection and because Dick Davis could not imagine turning his back on his daughter Elise, or on his daughter Elaine when Elaine was alive, Dick offered Rachael safe haven in his home. Carmen Davis, Dick's wife treated Rachael just like a daughter. The second day she was there, Rachael was looking at a framed photograph of a beautiful young woman wearing a wedding gown and asked Carmen who the woman was. "That was Lala," Carmen said, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. Carmen touched the photograph lovingly. "My Daughter Elaine. She was killed, murdered by that horrible gang, the Angels two seven zero," Carmen said. "She's beautiful," Rachael said, again looking at the photograph. That night, as Rachael curled up in the bed, quietly saying her rosary, she realized, she was in Elaine's room. "Elaine?" Rachael whispered. "Please don't be mad that I'm in your room." Rachael clutched the rosary tighter as she felt soft hands caress her face, then her belly. The baby started kicking merrily. "Is that you?" Rachael whispered, fearful. Soft hands squeezed her free hand "Holy Mother please help me," Rachael begged, overwhelmed by fear. A soft pat on her cheek, much like a mother would do to a frightened child and Rachael felt a peace wash over her, a peace she had not known since she was a small child. The End. ***** Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure. I post them here for your enjoyment. Thank you for reading my stories. Yes, I need an editor. Yes, it jumps around too much. Yes, there's too many people to keep track of. Yes, I suck. Yes, this was stupid shit. Have a nice day.