Dr Hooters Pt. LVI by the Road Dog COMING AND GOING The beautiful young English girl sat out at the corner bus stop, awaiting the bus into town. She gathered up the folds of her long flowing floral-print skirt, folded them under, and sat on them. Much paler than the curious Floridians that watched her from their cars, she protected herself from the fierce sun by hiding under an open newspaper. Crossing her slim, muscular, adolescent legs at the ankles, Penny tried to remember what Sukie told her. But was it the 'S' bus to the Flagler Mall, or the 'F' bus to the Slagler Mall? The second had an unwholesome sound to it, but you could never tell with the way these Yanks butchered the language. Anyway, both busses whizzed by the stop at about fifteen minute intervals, the legend 'Downtown' blazoned across their fronts, 'downtown' obviously being some American barbarism for the town centre. Penny swallowed hard and chose the 'F' bus at last. American buses were much less crowded that their English counter- parts, and Penny found herself only one of six passengers. The bus wound its way up the beach, crossing to the mainland across a narrow causeway past some tall white buildings, then turned south and weaved its way in and out of a dozen indistinguishable neigh- borhoods with pastel houses and well-manicured lawns. Passengers got on and off the bus, until finally, the driver ad- dressed her. "Young lady, where are you trying to go?" "To the Slagler Mall", she replied. The driver laughed heartily. "That's the **Flagler** Mall, Miss, and its on the other end of town from here. You'll need to take Bus 14 out that way. I'll drop you off on the next corner. Num- ber 14 comes right by there." Thanking the driver, Penny got off the bus and walked over to the bench to await the promised number 14. When, over forty-five minutes later, the number 14 hadn't arrived, she decided to take a look around. She was in a well-kept neighborhood, on a major thoroughfare. Cars zoomed past, driving on the wrong side of the road, as usual. A lot of them honked at her. She had already learned not to wave back in her own country. On the other side of the street she saw what looked like a foot- ball match in progress. Two teams of uniformed boys were chasing a white ball around a field, and the more she watched, the more she was certain that they were playing good old English football, which she had been told was not at all popular in America. En- chanted, she crossed the street for a closer look. One team was composed of some swarthy lads in green shirts, and when they shouted back and forth among themselves, Penny couldn't make out what they were saying. Foreigners, she decided, just then realizing that she herself was a foreigner here as well. The other team, the red shirts, were American boys, and they seemed to be getting the worst of it. The swarthy boys were much superior to them in ball-handling and tactics, and they con- trolled the ball better than seventy percent. of the time, mount- ing attack after attack on the beleaguered American goal. One lad, in particular, refused to surrender total dominance to the opposing team without a fight. He was slim, not overly tall, and had a thick mop of brown hair that bounced on his head as he ran. He would appear on the sides at the rarest times, often snatching the ball away from a surprised opponent who expected him to be on the other side of the field. Penny found herself drawn to the plucky lad. "Come on you reds!", she yelled. Then, the next time the feisty boy knocked the ball away from one of the green shirts, she blurted out, "Take 'im out, lad! Good boy!" Ohmigod, she thought, what am I saying. She glanced around to see if anyone was listening. The dark- haired boy looked over at her, broke his concentration, which caused him to fumble an important pass. She felt bad for him. Looks kind of like Griggsy, she thought to herself. Plays a bit like him, too. Soon, her presence and her interest became obvious to the lad's teammates as well, who elbowed him in the ribs and pointed in Penny's direction as she cheered the boy on. Finally, despite her hero's best efforts, the match ended with the swarthy lads winning 1-0. The teams filed off the field, and Penny turned to go when she heard a voice behind her. "Hey, you! Girl in the grey flowered skirt! Wait up!" It was the brown-haired boy still sweaty and marked up from the match. Flushed and excited, Penny dropped her eyes and thrust her con- siderable bosom out slightly. "Hello", she responded. "Sorry your lot lost, but *you* had a good game, though." "Thank you", he answered. "Where are you from?" Penny laughed, tossing her fine blonde hair back onto her shoul- ders. You can tell I'm not a local then, can't you? I'm Penny Mallory, from England. My sister won a sweepstakes and we're on holiday here for the month." The boy smiled. Penny decided he was much handsomer at close range than he had appeared from the field. His stout legs were thickly muscled, covered with the fine down of early adolescence, and his grey eyes twinkled merrily. "My name's Chris", he said, forgetting his manners and extending a sweaty palm. "Chris Gibson, and I've lived in Century Beach all my life. But if all the other English girls are as cute as you, I'll have to go there someday." Penny felt a shiver run down her spine as he said this. Oh damn! She thought. I'm falling. Can't be helped, I suppose. She gathered her courage and paid him back his own coin. "I'm Pene- lope Mallory, but if you call me that, I'll have your guts for garters. Penny, my mates call me, Pen for short. And if I thought that all American boys were as cute as you, I'd have come a lot sooner. Do you always talk to strange girls after football matches?" "Football? Oh right, football. Its called soccer over here", Chris corrected her. "No, I thought you were my brother's fi- ancee. There are a couple of things about both of you that sorta stand out, even at a distance." Penny blushed again, and stared down at what Chris had just re- ferred to. Her figure had always attracted attention, ever since she started developing at about nine or ten. Even before Jen- nie's visit, she was accustomed to boys making rude remarks about her generous breasts, which were large enough on her slender frame. Now, things had became almost impossible. Jennie's for- mula had gifted her with plump forty-five inch tits, the size of ripe cantaloupes, but her waist was as trim and her hips as slim as ever. If the boys had been rude before, they were caustic now. What Penny had no defense against was a boy making funny and en- dearing remarks about them, especially a boy as handsome as Chris. Penny and Chris stared at each other nervously. They had reached that awkward stage in a conversation where one party has to move it forward, or both have to let it drop. Neither of them could think of a thing to say, yet neither of them wanted to see the other walk away, possibly forever. So they stared. Finally, to Penny's great relief, Chris asked her where she went to school. Immediately he caught himself. "God, what a dumb question", he moaned. "You don't go to any school anywhere around here." He was embarrassed that his interest was so trans- parent. Would she laugh at him? Penny laughed, a musical little laugh. "Nah. Its not a dumb question at all. I was going to ask you what form you were in myself." "-?-" "You know, what year you are in school", she continued. Chris relaxed, leaning against the fence. He was a popular guy at school, and having a big brother in a well-known local band didn't hurt his chances with the girls at Flagler High at all. But he was totally entranced by this English girl with her outra- geous accent, who appeared out of the blue at his soccer prac- tice. His eyes devoured every detail of her appearance; her cornflax-colored hair, her crystal blue eyes, her creamy complex- ion [he had heard rumors, even at his age, about the skin of girls who rarely saw the sun], the prominent swell of her ample breasts rising and falling with her breath, much larger than any other girl's he knew, except for his brother's fiancee, and then... He came back to himself suddenly when he realized she was waiting for an answer to her question. "Uh, I'm in the tenth grade next year. I'm fifteen." "Good", Penny said, smiling. It seemed to Chris that the whole sky lit up with her smile. Some of his teammates called to him from the stands, but he waved them on. "I'm thirteen, fourteen in October actually. I'll be starting fourth year myself next autumn, if they'll have me back." "Whadd'ya mean 'if they'll have me back'? You kill someone or something?" The blood rushed to Penny's cheeks. Ohmigod! she thought, her heart skipping several beats. How do you tell a boy you've just met, the Love of Your Whole Life, that you got the boot from school because your tits were too big? She scuffled the ground with her feet. "It's a long story, Chris. I'm sorry." Chris laughed, and grabbed Penny's hand across the fence. "Lis- ten. What're you doing in this neighborhood? You're miles from the beach." Penny told him. "There's no easy way from here to the Flagler Mall by bus, Penny. Better you come home with me", Chris told her. "Mom can drive us out there later, and then back to the beach. If you want, we can go swimming. My brother's fiancee has a couple of her swim suits at the house, and she's about your size, lucky girl." Penny dropped her eyes. "Thanks, Chris", she purred. "I'd like that lots." She walked around to his side of the fence, and Chris sponta- neously slipped his arm around her slender waist, crushing her against his still-damp polyester shirt. Phworrr, she thought, I wonder what he smells like after a shower... But the sensation of his arm around her was more agreeable than the smell was ob- jectionable, so she consented. "There's one more thing, Penny", he said. "I need a date for my brother's engagement party Friday. Can you, would you, go with me?" Actually, Chris thought, I have a date for the party. I'll just have to tell Justine I gotta floss my teeth or something. "Its going to be just super. My brother's band's gonna play, and half the town's sure to be there!" "I'd love that, Chris", she responded, slipping her hand around his waist as well.