It was so damn cool to have Mark with us again on the way home from school, just like it used to be. But that didn't stop us from taking the piss outa each other.
"You'd better watch your back, Mark, or Superglue your Speedos to your ass."
"Try that, bud, and your face will be seriously re-arranged."
"Oh, yeah? And I suppose you'll get Kyle to help you, 'cause you've got no chance on your own."
A little later, I hopped the fence and took care of the crap detail while Sox looked on without the slightest hint of embarrassment or guilt. How did dogs do that? Then Kyle mowed the lawn, while I emptied the grass catcher at various intervals, and scooped stray grass from the pool. It was kinda weird 'cause we were doing chores that would normally be boring, but doing them together sorta made them fun. Besides, there'd been no surf for ages, so we filled our time bitching about the lack of off-shore wind.
Once the yard was done, I got Kyle to help me with an algebra problem that I could never figure, and which totally pissed me off. There was no point in asking my dad, 'cause I might as well have been talking in fucking Swahili. Anyway, Kyle told me that I had some kinda mental block about remembering to change the sign as soon as the equation changes sides. "It took me ages to get that through my skull," he grinned, "but once you've got it, everything kinda falls into place."
My chance to get even with Mark came the following day at swim prac. He was leaning over the side of the pool helping one of the juniors with his stroke when I sneaked up behind him, and gave him a shove. Hey, I wasn't gonna hang around to get pummeled, so I high-tailed it to the top of the stand where he couldn't get me. On the walk home, though, he was making me pretty edgy.
"I wanna be in charge of your initiation, Wingnut. When I'm finished, you won't have one little, itty bitty stitch of hair on you. Not one little bit."
"Kyle will help me."
"I'll beat him up."
"Cool! I can watch." I was waiting for Mark's reaction, so I didn't see Kyle's hand on its way to giving me a clip over the ear.
I was outa my school uniform and into my boardies in seconds, then jumped the fence and breezed into Kyle's room where he was just about to pull on his boardies.
"Picked up the dog crap yet?"
"Then what are you doing in my room?"
"Shuddup… I'll pick up the landmines in a sec. What did Mark mean about no hair on my bod?"
"Just what he said, I guess."
"Not my pubes, Kyle. He wouldn't do that, huh? No guy touches another guy's dick. Do they?"
"I've seen guys get shaved before. Aren't you worried about the hair on your head, though?"
"That'll grow back quick, but my pubes will take another hundred years!"
"I'll lend you some."
"Very funny, Kyle. Very fucking funny. I'm being serious, and you're not listening!"
Well, I should've known better than to expect anything meaningful outa Kyle. He just kept avoiding the issue, so we messed about in the pool for a while until I had to split and take care of homework. A little later, I was back again to ask Kyle if could tape some music in his room. I was surprised to see his dad home early from work.
"Would you like to borrow some of my Frank Sinatra CDs, Wingnut?"
"Uh… no… it's cool… I just wanna tape some Nudies, and Jinger."
"I've got some Abba as well."
Was he pulling my chain or what? He looked serious. "Uh, well, thanks all the same… but not really."
When I got home, I asked my dad how anyone could possibly like Frank Sinatra.
"He didn't get rich by winning the lottery, you know."
"That's not an answer."
Dad peered at me over the top of his reading glasses, and lowered his newspaper. "There is no answer, son. There's no accounting for taste. One man's meat is another man's poison."
"You got that right, dad. I'd be dead by morning if I had to listen to Frank Sinatra."
As it happened, according to Kyle, death wasn't all that far away during the next morning's swim training. I'd wanted to chirp Mark about shaving my pubes when Kyle grabbed my arm and pulled me to one side.
"You've gotta learn to read the signs, bro. Lay off, or get flattened."
"Mark wouldn't hit me!"
"Just lay off. Mark's not a happy boy this morning. OK?"
My major prob over the weekend wasn't the fact that the surf had crapped out again… although that pissed me off big time… it was the fact that Valentine's Day was coming up, and I wanted to buy Candy something rad. Luckily, Kyle had a whole bunch of jobs to do around the hood, so he invited me along as his helper, and even offered to split 50/50. Woohoo!
"So how come you're being so generous?"
"I'm still hung over from last night's clubbing."
Anyway, on Saturday I made more money than I'd ever had at one time in my life! Excellent! It was still pretty early after we'd finished working, so I went shopping at the mall for a gift, then phoned Candy to invite her for pizza on Valentine's… well, Valentine's was a school day, so we decided Sunday night would be better. I didn't mention the pressie, though, 'cause I wanted it to be a surprise.
On Sunday, after skateboarding with some friends at the Half Pipe, I hopped the fence again, and picked up the dog crap. Kyle was backwashing and cleaning the pool, and bitching about the pool pump 'cause the damn thing was jamming. But I had more important things on my mind.
"Hey, Kyle! I’m taking Candy for pizza for Valentine's tonight! Cool, huh? And I bought her something… and I made her a card as well!"
Kyle dried his hands on a towel, then took the silver surfer necklace from me to check it out. "Hey, that's pretty damn cool, bud. She might even give you a blowjob for that."
"No!" he grinned. "I'm fucking joking! Jeez!"
"I know that, so don't fucking shout! Is the card OK?"
He took a moment to study what I'd written inside, then gave me a weird kinda look. "Could've been a bit more romantic."
"Well, I don't think that something like --
'Roses are red
violets are pretty
lift up your top
so I can feel your titty'
-- is very romantic. But, hey, whatever blows your hair back."
"She'll know it's just a joke. Anyway, she knows that I like touching her tits."
"She let you touch her tits?"
"No," I said as I took the card back, "just through her top… but they feel cool… like pecs with bumps."
Kyle's knees buckled, and he held his stomach as he cracked up totally. Hey! What the fuck had I said that was so damn funny? Then he asked, "what if she wants to show the card to her folks?"
I wasn't that dumb. Jeez! "Oh, I bought a really soppy one for that."
"You really like her, huh?"
"She's neat, and we laugh a lot. And she's always telling me how hot I am, and I'm always telling her how hot she is."
"She touched your dick yet?"
"Through my jeans, yeah. I think she wants to really touch it, though, 'cause I think she's impressed."
"Yeah, well you two guys should just play it as it comes… don't rush it."
"You taking Steph out tonight?"
"Nope… but I bought her a heart chocolate."
"Neat! Anyway, I've picked up the dog crap, and helped you with the pool, so now I've gotta jet… got homework to do."
"See ya, buddy."
"See ya, Kyle."
When I arrived at Candy's house, I was wearing a white t over my black jeans, and my hair was gelled and spiky. She answered the door in a top that showed part of her stomach, and her cute little belly button, and she was wearing a pair of tight jeans. "You look totally cool," we said simultaneously.
"Don't forget! Home by eight!" It was her father's voice coming from somewhere inside the house.
"OK, dad." Then she noticed the package I was carrying. "Is that for me?"
While we were seated in the restaurant, and waiting for our pizza to arrive, I chose that moment to give her my gift. She decided to read the card first. "Jeez! You're soooo gross, Wingnut!"
"What's gross about that? It's poetry! My poetry! Anyway, I bought another card in case your folks wanna see it."
She read the second card, and smiled. "That's much more romantic."
"You don't like the one I made?"
"Only 'cause you made it yourself. If it'd been a bought one, it would've been gross."
"How long have I got to figure that out? Like a year? Anyway, check out the gift. I hope you like it."
It was so cool to see her eyes widen as she took the necklace from the wrapping. "Oh, Wingnut! It's beautiful!" Then she slipped it around her neck, and fastened the clasp. "I'm never gonna take this off."
"So what are you gonna take off?" I grinned.
"How come boys are always so damn gross?"
"I dunno. Maybe if we weren't, the whole thing would've stopped at Adam and Eve. Anyway, tits aren't gross, they're cool… at least, yours are."
"Can I ask you something?"
"What happens when I put my hand on your jeans?... y'know, like when I touch your bulge."
"I go kinda funny."
"You don't laugh."
"It's not laughing type funny, Candy. It's different… hard to explain." Just then, the waiter placed our pizza on the table. Damn, it smelt delicious, and I was starving big time!
"So explain what feeling funny means before you start eating," she demanded as I held a slice of pizza only an inch from my mouth.
"Well, my dick gets hard, and I kinda feel excited and stuff."
"Excited about what?"
"I dunno. Just excited."
"Like you wanna do something?"
"Stuff. Can I eat now?"
"Aren't you gonna ask me how I feel when you touch my breasts?"
"How come girls call them breasts?"
"'Cause that's what they are, dummy."
"OK, so how do you feel when I touch your… uh, breasts?"
"Special… like right now… being with you." She fondled the necklace, and smiled all dreamy like. "Getting this from you… being here with you in the pizza restaurant for Valentine's… looking at your face… knowing that you care about me."
"All that stuff happens when I touch your titty?"
"You wanna eat now?" she sighed as if I'd said something wrong.
"Thought you'd never ask. I'm starving!"
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