Cicis Saving Throw

Being a few minutes makes a big difference..

This story was written for the

2025 Literotica Geek Pride Story Event

. It's a slow-burn romance between young, inexperienced adults leading to a good payoff in the end. If you're looking for a romp with wall-to-wall graphic sex, please look elsewhere.

© SouthernCrossfire - 2025. All rights reserved,

_______________

If I'd been born seventeen minutes earlier, my life would have been much different.

My mother and her best friend from a couple of doors down the street were pregnant at the same time. They shopped for their babies together, went to birthing classes together (along with their loving husbands), and even had a little wager on which would give birth first. As it turned out, I was the loser in that bet, being born seventeen minutes after midnight, just twenty-five minutes after Trudi.

With our parents being best friends, of course Trudi and I did everything together when we were little and we naturally became best friends, too. Our parents sometimes swapped out to take care of both of us so the other couple could have a playdate of their own.

Since Trudi's mom had won the birth wager, she and Mr. Ingles got to go on the first such outing with Trudi and me being the real winners, with her getting to spend time with me at my house long before most kids even think about doing a sleepover with their friends. My parents went on their outing shortly thereafter and I got to stay with Trudi and her parents.

Maybe my parents would still be together if they'd continued doing that.

Then again, maybe not.

For the first few years of our lives, Trudi and I did practically everything together. However, when our mothers took us to be registered for kindergarten, we ran into a problem.

Remember those seventeen little minutes?

"I'm sorry, ma'am, state law requires that a child turn five years of age on or before September 30th to be enrolled in Kindergarten that school year; that's Trudi's case, but Cecilia was born on October 1st so she won't qualify until next year."

"But she was born just seventeen minutes after midnight on October 1st. Can't you make an exception?" pleaded my mother. "Trudi and Cici have been best friends since birth; they've done everything together. They're like twins."

"There's actually an exception allowed for genetic twins," said the grumpy old woman who insisted on calling me Cecilia, "but the law doesn't allow an exception for 'best friend' twins, I'm afraid. Sorry. Next!"

Therefore, while I didn't understand at the time, Trudi went to school while I was forced to stay home. In my mind, I believed my extra year of homebound incarceration was due to something I'd done wrong and that mindset affected me for years.

However, that first year, Trudi told me all about her adventures each day after school, allowing me to live vicariously through her experiences. If not for being born seventeen minutes after midnight, I would have lived it with her rather than through her.

*****

During the summer after her high school graduation, Trudi was a counselor at the summer camp where we'd spent part of several summers past, so it was an early taste of the loneliness that I would be experiencing when she left for college in the fall. While I had friends-- mostly girls-- in my class, I wasn't as close to any of them as I was to Trudi. I was fairly smart-- in the top 20 in my class-- but there were too many things wrong with me-- including not being pretty-- for me to be popular.

In hindsight, that I

believed

those things were wrong with

me

rather than how others

perceived me

was probably my biggest problem. It made me shyer and more withdrawn than I should have been. I had trouble talking to boys and my parents' incessant fighting as I grew older made things even worse, making me withdraw from them in order to stay out of their line of fire. Their fights often brought me to tears and made me jealous that Trudi was pretty and could not only deal with guys so easily, she also had parents who actually loved each other as much as they loved her.

By my sophomore year of high school, I topped out at 5'-5-inches tall; that wasn't too short by most standards but I was about 25 pounds too heavy for my height. That plus all-too-frizzy dark brown hair, freckles, persistent acne, braces, and a reserved personality (that was influenced more than a little by my feuding parents) had tended to keep guys away from me for other than the most basic of friendships or, more commonly, help with homework.

In fact, it was midway through my sophomore year when my parents, then at the climax of their bitter divorce proceedings, reluctantly agreed, after much argument, that I was old enough for limited dating. However, it didn't do me any good since neither Vic Granholm, whose seeming interest had prompted my request to Mom and Dad, nor anyone else ever got around to asking me out.

That changed a little during my junior year when my braces were gone. I actually went on a grand total of three dates with guys in similar situations, three socially awkward guys who were as desperate as I was. Unfortunately, in each case, it was essentially two self-conscious people with vastly different interests and little common ground trying to avoid doing anything dumb, and being so embarrassed by the end of the date that a second such horror show was never in the cards.

Avoiding guys due to embarrassment isn't a good recipe for making male friendships, but that's generally how I went through high school until the summer between my junior and senior years. With Trudi away at camp, I was bored and lonely so I decided to make some changes in and decisions about my life.

First, wanting to feel better about myself, I started running to try to lose some weight and get in better shape. I say running but it was far more walking than running at first, doing a two-mile course every day, running, walking when I tired, and then running again, repeatedly, until I finally got home, completely exhausted.

In that manner, I slowly built some strength and stamina and within a couple of weeks, I was running most of the course on most days. It was still a slow run and some people could probably walk faster, but it felt like a big accomplishment to me and my dad's advice on weightlifting and other exercise helped too.

I kept going with the running and my time slowly improved; as my speed and stamina got better, so too did my distance and my concentration. By the middle of July, I was up to 2.5 miles and, I believed, down a few pounds, though I refused to step on the bathroom scale, fearing how it would devastate me if I still weighed the same as before.

The mirror told me that wasn't the case, but I wasn't taking any chances.

Running gave me time to think; while I doubted that I'd ever be an award-winning novelist (yes, the lack of confidence was still a big problem, though I didn't realize it at the time), I liked to do research and write and I figured I might make a good investigative journalist. My first big investigation was looking into colleges: McNally State University had a good journalism program, was less than two hours away, and offered in-state tuition.

In another rare instance, my parents

both

agreed with my choice and I started filling out the paperwork for early admission.

The other big change in my life occurred during one of my runs almost two weeks before the start of my senior year of high school. As I was running that morning, I saw a young man standing at the end of a driveway. With no sidewalks in that subdivision, I was running at the side of the street but I moved out a little as I approached to avoid crowding him.

To my surprise, he called out "Hi" when I was still a number of steps away. "I've seen you running by here every morning since we moved in and you never have a bottle of water with you." He extended a bottle toward me as I was almost even with him. "It's hot and getting hotter as the day goes along so you should hydrate yourself regularly as you run."

"Thanks," I replied, waving him off as I passed him, "but if I stop, I won't make it home."

I wanted to take the water and guzzle it but I didn't know him and I knew if I stopped that I would be unable to restart. I'd come a long way with my running but it wasn't easy for me and I had to push myself to take each--

"Here, take it but keep going," he said, having run up beside me without me even noticing and easily matching my pace. "You're already covered in sweat so pour it like this so it doesn't hit your teeth-- you've either got good genes or a great orthodontist, by the way-- and if a little spills, it won't matter and may even cool you."

I glared at him but he was just smiling at me, a nice friendly smile showing kindness rather than the pity I tended to receive, and holding out the plastic bottle toward me as he ran in step with me.

While he hadn't run far, he wasn't even breathing hard and with his longer legs, he was making it look easy. Even worse, he didn't even appear to notice my glare.

"Why are you doing this?" I gasped as I continued on.

"Just trying to help," he replied. "I run cross country and was wondering if you're on the high school team. You are in high school, right?"

"High school, yes. Cross country, heavens no."

"I didn't think I recognized you but I've only been to one practice-- yesterday-- and haven't met everybody. Dad took a new job here in Dentley-- he started yesterday too-- so we just moved in last week. I'm Colin."

I couldn't talk and breathe and run and drink all at the same time so I took the bottle out of his hand and stopped right there, ripping it open and greedily guzzling almost half of it.

He ran on for a few steps before circling back, running in place for a few more paces before stopping.

"I'm Colin Scruggs," he repeated, extending his hand.

I think he was hinting, so I gave him a quick shake and replied, "Hi, I'm Cici Vandiver. Will you go to Dentley High or the Academy?"

"Dentley. I'm a senior this year and my parents can't afford private school. What about you?"

"Same," I said, finally able to breathe normally again. That was another thing that had improved since I started running; it took less time to catch my breath. "Thanks for the water."

"You live around here?"

"Yeah, a few blocks over that way."

He nodded but I noticed he was staring at my shoes rather than in the direction I'd nodded.

"Can I take a look at your sole?"

"Huh?"

"Your shoe sole. The way you were running and how you're standing now, I think you may need new running shoes. May I?"

The guy, a good-looking young man who was decidedly devoid of acne, stepped to my side, bent over, and gently raised my foot like it was a horse's hoof in a blacksmith shop!

"Hey!"

He only held it for a second before letting it back down.

"Yep, these are really worn," he said as moved around and did the same damn thing with my other foot. I scowled at his effrontery, but he didn't even notice.

"I'm guessing it's the way you run that's causing the uneven wear, but I'm pretty sure you're hurting your knees and probably your stride and your time by continuing to use these," he continued after taking a step back and giving me back the personal space he'd just invaded. "You should go to a good running store and have someone who knows what they're doing evaluate you and then fit you for new ones."

"Okay," I said, a bit taken aback that I was suddenly finding out that I was an even worse runner than I believed.

Again, he didn't seem to notice my frown, continuing on as if I'd said nothing. "You know, some stores also sell a good belt for runners that will hold a water bottle. And some even let you carry a cellphone, if you have one."

I shook my head. It would be Christmas of 1998, three years later, before I got my first cell phone.

"Well, I bet you could use the water, anyway. I'll give you the name of the belt I recommend, if you'd like, and maybe I can check with my teammates for a good store at practice this afternoon."

I was a bit peeved at his brazenness but also intrigued by what he was saying; my running shoes came from the local sporting goods store with my mother doing the fitting. As angry as she'd been since divorcing Dad and the way she'd tended to dress me so I "could grow into it" when I was younger, I wondered if he might have a point.

"What's your phone number?" he asked.

He seemed nice and seemed like he was trying to be helpful, but I hesitated for a moment, still not sure if I trusted him. Taking a chance, I gave him the phone number at Mom's house, where I lived most of the time. To my surprise, he pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote it on the palm of his hand. "Got it. I'll call you later with the info. Bye, Cici!"

Then, just like that, he was gone, running back toward his house as I stood watching with my mouth gaped open. He was turning up his drive as I came out of my stupor, calling out, "Nice to meet you, Colin."

*****

Trudi was back home for a few days before heading back to college, so we spent the following day together, with her telling me all about her adventures at camp when she wasn't raving about my weight loss.

"You look incredible, girl! We've got to go get you some new clothes!"

Most of the afternoon was spent at our town's little mall and the surrounding stores getting us both decked out for the new school year. Unfortunately, that reminded me that Trudi would be away at college and I'd be back in high school for another year thanks to those damned seventeen minutes. It made me sad that we wouldn't be able to spend as much time together.

However, my thoughts were pulled away that evening when Colin Scruggs called me as he'd promised. Instead of just giving me the info and hanging up, he talked on, and, to my surprise, I talked back and we had an actual conversation before hanging up.

"Cici, was that Trudi you were talking to?" asked my mom, knowing full well that it was a boy since she'd answered the phone.

"Trudi! I've got to call her!"

My dad took me to get new running shoes that weekend while I was spending the weekend with him. Unlike Mom, Dad was willing to pay for some nicer ones that fit. It still wasn't quite like running on air, but they were so much better than my old ones and the belt for the water bottle was a big help. I called Colin to thank him on Sunday evening and, to my surprise, we talked for well over an hour, far more than I'd ever talked with a guy, even during the three dates in my life.

It wasn't long before we were talking several times a week and then almost every night. Then I'd call Trudi and we'd talk for another hour, with my mom smiling and snickering at the changes she saw blossoming within me. A few days before school started, I caught her looking at me while I was washing my coffee cup.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked nervously.

"We need to go to the store and get you some new clothes, sweetheart. You've lost so much weight that your old things aren't going to fit."

I laughed and showed her the results of my shopping excursion with Trudi.

"That's a good start, but you'll need more than that. Do you have some time on Saturday?"

"Yeah. Trudi's leaving for college on Friday."

That made me depressed for the next couple of days, but Trudi and I went to dinner on Thursday night to celebrate her departure even as I mourned it. We compared calendars to see when she planned to come home for the weekend so I'd keep them open to spend time with her.

On Friday, she left and I talked to Colin for nearly two hours that evening, pouring out my heart about how sad I was that my friend was leaving.

"I don't know if it will help, Cici, but I'll always be here for you," he said.

To my surprise, that assurance actually made me feel at least somewhat better.

*****

Days later, with a new wardrobe, a new hair straightener, and some acne meds from my new dermatologist, I started my senior year of high school.

As I walked the halls of the school on the first day back, I drew repeated looks from guys who'd never given me a glance, much less a second one, but I ignored them and the few whistles and catcalls because I had my mind set elsewhere. And two weeks into the school year, the very shy "elsewhere" named Colin finally got the hint and I had a boyfriend for the first time in my life.

Our first date was that Saturday evening. We talked so long the waitress finally asked us to leave, so we were embarrassed about that issue rather than like the just-being-there embarrassment of my past dates. We gave our server a good tip, and in the weeks that followed, our relationship continued to build from there.

We'd been "together" for about two weeks when Colin invited me to run with him, though I quickly realized that was a mistake. He ran with me for the first quarter of a mile before leaving me in the dust. I'd warned him about my speed (or rather, the lack thereof) in advance, but he'd promised that he'd deal with it. Seeing him pull away and then disappear around a corner in the distance hurt but caused me to push myself to go faster.

I was so angry as I neared the three-quarter point of my run that I considered breaking up with him, but then he was there, beside me, running in step for the next several minutes, not saying a word but each of us casting little glances at the other and giving little smiles from time to time as we ran.

"Cici, you're flying today!" he finally said. "Think you can keep it kicked into high gear all the way to the end?"

"You're serious?" We were still over a quarter of a mile from my house.

"Yeah, as a heart attack! Let's do it. Ready? Go!"

While my mouth was still hanging open in disbelief and the word "Sure" or anything similar had never been uttered in response to his silly challenge, when he took off, my legs kicked in and I was chasing after him. I'm sure he slowed down to let me catch him but we ran together for that last little bit, my heart pounding, lungs heaving, and legs protesting every step of the way. Still, somehow, I kept up with him until we turned into my driveway.

I plopped down on the grass and pulled Colin down next to me as I tried to regain my breath. I finished the last of my bottle of water while smiling at him for his encouragement in completing the challenge while my heart, lungs, legs, and butt all screamed silently at him for offering the challenge in the first place.

Our hand clutched as we sat side by side and my head leaned over against his shoulder. Finding myself able to breathe again, I realized it was nice having him there to support and even challenge me.

A moment later, it was even nicer still when, to my surprise and joy, he kissed me for the first time.

*****

Fall semester of our senior year was so busy and it passed all too quickly at Dentley High, but Colin and I were together throughout it all which made it fun, and Trudi came home from college for the first time to celebrate our birthdays. Like most of our past birthdays, our families celebrated them together, but with Colin joining us this time.

My dad was there, too, staying as close to me but as far as possible from my mom, making for a few tense moments until I told them, in a rare private moment, that I expected civility from both of them. My mom looked a bit shocked at my demand, but I swear I saw a momentary smile on Dad's face.

It was hard seeing Trudi off again on Sunday morning, but she liked Colin and told him to treat me well.

*****

We celebrated Colin's birthday later in October, just a bit less than three weeks after mine. As we spent more time together, I felt closer and closer to him, so much so I was sure it must either be love or a serious case of hormones that I didn't know I had. With both of us being 18, our kisses became sensual and far more frequent as did our hugs, and we started talking about more adult things like college and careers and our future.