Nemesis Crush Pt 01

I'm not a professional writer, I do this for fun. I'm sure there are spelling and grammar issues. And for added fun it's Canadian English, halfway between British and American. Some of those typos aren't mistakes, eh! The characters are over 18.

This story is high up on the Implausibility Scale. If you want realism then this isn't for you.

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Chapter One: Graduation day.

High school was finally over with.

You hear all these stories people tell about how awesome high school is, but my life sucked. Our school had this 'well rounded student' thing they forced on us. Everyone had to learn to play an instrument and be in the school band. Everyone had to take at least one tech course every year. And everyone had to be involved in the athletics program. Well rounded. Yeah, that sounds great doesn't it?

Trust me, it's not.

The music program had the Junior and Senior orchestras. That included ALL the students. We sounded awful. Seriously, the music we played was the kind of thing they use to advertise noise-cancelling headphones. The students who excelled at whatever instrument they played were invited to join one of the Bands. There was a bunch of special bands, like Jazz Band, Dance Band, Blues Band, String Orchestra, and Drum Line. The Bands were definitely a prestige thing. I started out on clarinet, but all I could get out of it was horrid squeaking, so they switched me to flute. When you fail at playing the flute you're basically silent, instead of wrecking the music with ear-splitting squeaks. I eventually managed to play respectably, but I was always drowned out by every other instrument, so it felt like I made no contribution at all.

For Athletics, I ended up as an M. Officially that's EM, short for Equipment Manager. You know, the people on the sidelines carrying water, setting up equipment, cleaning up after games, stuff like that. No skill or stamina required. It was okay I guess. Better than being on the field getting bashed around by the jocks. The head of the Athletics Department had been an Olympic calibre field hockey player when she was in University, so our field hockey teams were her pride and joy. And of course we had an intramural hockey league. And volleyball, and soccer, and track, and football, and so on, so there was lots of stuff all year round to keep the M squad busy.

Tech classes were more interesting. There was everything from plumbing to sewing to woodworking to machine shop. Our school still had all the shops and equipment. It was one of the few that didn't fall victim to all the cutbacks and the push towards more 'progressive' and 'academic' programs. I chose Culinary Arts for my tech classes. My grandmother taught me to bake cookies when I was a little kid, and I always had an affinity for baking and cooking after that. The first few classes were mostly boring stuff that I already knew. But once we showed the teacher we knew the basics of kitchen safety and food handling, we were allowed to cook whatever we wanted. I really enjoyed those classes. I got into pastry, making all sorts of really fancy stuff.

The social aspect of high school was not so great. Mostly because of Moe. Moe was my own personal nemesis, a special bully that picked on me at every opportunity. Moe's real name was Maureen, but everyone just called her Moe. She was blonde, with blue eyes and a slim athletic build. I saw her for the first time at the Welcome Assembly for new students. And I instantly fell in love with her. Yeah, love at first sight. She was my ultimate crush. She was perfect, a goddess in a mundane world. My friends thought she was cute but far from the hottest girl at school. They all liked huge tits and Moe was not that kind of girl. Me, I was crushing on her from the instant I laid eyes on her. There was just something about her I could not resist.

Moe went straight to the A squad for girl's field hockey, and she was a magnificent athlete. Being an M allowed me to watch her all the time when she played. She was awesome. But she had a real mean disposition. For some reason she seemed to dislike me. Always with the snide remarks, the insults, and the hateful glares. And it wasn't just words and looks. I think most of the out-of-bounds shots that hit me on the sidelines were intentional. Those field hockey balls hurt. So do volleyballs. And basketballs. And let's not even go near dodge-ball.

Moe was part of the Spice Rack. That was my name for them. Six of the prettiest girls in school who hung out together all the time. They were some of the hottest girls around, by my standards at least. And it was only me who called them that, and only ever in my head. Spice as in Hot, and Rack as in Nice Tits. Not big ones, but Nice Ones. I never went near them, because Moe was part of that group, and she'd be on my case if I ever got close. So I admired them from afar. Just like I admired Maureen from afar.

I never dated in high school, mostly because the only girl I was really interested in was Moe, and she totally intimidated me. She also hated me. And so I never went to school dances or Prom or stuff like that. I was afraid to. Because it wasn't like we had no interactions at all. We had plenty. I cannot count the number of wedgies she gave me. Nor the number of times my books were knocked onto the floor, or I was tripped, or had something nasty spilled on me. I learned how to remove sharpie from my face quickly and effectively. I had to get a new lock every few weeks because she'd somehow find out my combination, stack my locker, and everything would come tumbling out when I opened it.

I had a strange life. I had a bully, and it was a girl, and she was Extremely Hot, and she was my crush. Did anyone else have a crush who was also their nemesis? Or was that just my own personal and unique form of Hell?

Of course Moe was not alone in making my life miserable. There were other bullies around that went after me. Playing flute wasn't manly enough, so they tagged me for that. And for Tech I made french pastry instead of rebuilding car engines. Tagged again. Since I was an M, I was singled out for that too. Everywhere, all the time, low-level harassment. But the stuff the guys pulled wasn't nearly as hurtful as a cutting remark from Moe. And she always did that kind of shit when the other Spice Rack girls were around. Being demeaned in front of and by the hottest girls you know really hurts.

I did have a few friends. Geeks like me, on the M squad, or playing dumb-ass instruments like flute or triangle. We played a lot of video games and RPGs. Escape into fantasy worlds was my main outlet for dealing with shit. My social life at school basically sucked. So, when Graduation rolled around, I was just glad High School was finally over.

Our grad was pretty low key, no robes or mortar boards, just people kinda dressed up and being called up to the stage to receive their diplomas. Kinda dressed up. Right. Fuck, how I wished we had robes. Yeah, because I was wearing the second ugliest suit in the world, and I only say that because I'm giving the rest of the ugly suits the benefit of the doubt. There might be a worse one out there. Somewhere. Maybe. Fuck, I looked stupid. Can you guess who bought me that suit? Yeah, thanks Mom.

Most of the other guys at least had decent suits, or just a shirt and tie. Not like the horrible clashing shit-brown thing I had on. And the girls! Wow! You'd think it was prom or something, with all the sexy dresses and ballgowns. For all I knew, those were their prom dresses. But I wouldn't know, as I never went to Prom, did I?

Once the whole diploma distribution thing was done, there were the awards. I got called up for Summa Cum Laude, which seemed to surprise a lot of people. I dunno why, as I got the highest mark on just about everything, all the time. To me it was just one more opportunity for everyone to see me in that ugly fucking suit. Center of attention was the last thing I wanted. I kept getting called up for more awards. Highest honours in Algebra, Calculus, Physics, Biology, Chemistry, and Culinary Arts. Finally, they moved on to the Humanities awards, for things like Languages, Fine Art, and Drama. Not my wheelhouse. Oh, wait, one more! I had the highest mark in English Lit, so I was off to be embarrassed on the stage one more time. And then done, finally!

Aaaand I relaxed too much, because they hauled me up for Highest Overall Average. Thank fuck that the Valedictorian was the 'most well rounded individual' and not just the highest marks, so I didn't have to make a friggin' speech. That was up to Mark Dyer, Mister Popular. Then there were all the Music Awards and Athletics Awards. I was safe from those. That went on and on, because every sport, every band, and every class got awards. All I could think was 'Please just end this'. Thankfully they didn't call me up for any of that stuff so I got to sit as invisible as possible in the crowd for the last rounds of awards.

At least I got to see Maureen make her walks across the stage. She went up almost as many times as I did, but not for Academics. Moe got award after award for just about every sport there was. And god she looked hot. Every time she got an award she'd look out over the crowd and wave as she smiled, and I sat there pretending she was smiling at me. I knew better, but we all have our little fantasies.

Finally, yes finally, it really was over. Everyone was milling around, parents seeking their kids in the crowd and vice versa. I looked around, trying to find my folks so we could leave. When I found them they were talking to Myron's parents. Myron was my best friend, so we yakked a bit while our folks talked. We played a lot of D&D and video games together. Typical nerds. My parents took all my awards and stuff. Mom had a bag with her, apparently they'd been forewarned about how many awards I was up for. And that was probably why she went out and bought me this suit. Then it was on to another conversation with some other parents. And some less than comfortable talk with classmates I really didn't really know or like all that much. I was mostly a loner, except for my friends Paul and Myron and a few other geeks like us.

Apparently my folks knew almost everyone, either through work, PTA, curling, golf, or Lions. So these little meet-ups kept going, one after the other. It was like every set of parents wanted to talk with every other set of parents. I started doing the math in my head, trying to figure out how long this would go on. It was just an N choose M problem, right? A couple of factorials to calculate, figure the average length of a chat, and multiply it out. Yeah, by my calculations we were gonna be there until midnight. A month from now. Then my folks started talking to Ruth-Anne's parents. That was the end of working on my math problem in my head, because my brain short circuited.

Ruth-Anne was one of the members of the Spice Rack. Damn, she was gorgeous, and the dress she had on was a wet dream. Bright yellow ankle length skirt, slit all the way up both sides, with bands that wound around her waist and torso and neck. It was obvious that she had no bra on, with all those little slices of flesh visible. I tried my best not to stare or drool. I think I managed okay with the latter.

Ruth-Anne actually said Hi to me, and asked me some questions about school and stuff. Turned out she was going to UVic in the Fall, about as far away as she could get from home. She asked me where I was going, and I told her Waterloo. That's not the best Mech Eng school, but I didn't want to be living in Toronto, fuck no.

My folks moved on, dragging me along, and they ended up talking to Moe's parents. She sidled away so she was on the other side of our little group of parental units and ignored me after giving me what I can only describe as a hateful glare. I did my best to ignore her, but the amount of cleavage she was showing off in that dress made ignoring Moe an impossibility for a typical horny 18 year old male. I stood there, trying not to stare at Moe's tits, waiting for my folks to finish talking so we could go.

All the parents continued to circulate, and drag their offspring around with them for what felt like a friggin' year, but was in fact only about an hour according to my traitorous lying watch. Einstein got that time dilation thing wrong. It's got nothing to do with the speed of light, and everything to do with how embarrassed you are following your parents around a crowded gymnasium in the world's second-ugliest suit. By then a good quarter of the attendees were gone. Why were we not gone? Soon, I hoped. Soon. Then all the parents seemed to glom together in a few large groups, and so did the students.

I ended up hanging out with Myron, Tracey, and Paul, some of my fellow nerds. I saw the Spice Rack over on the other side of the gym. They seemed to be having some kind of argument. There were some heated words, which surprised me. They had always been really tight, like absolute BFFs. I idly wondered what was happening that caused such friction in their little group. I tried not to get caught staring at them, but holy fuck, not only were they hot, they were dressed to kill. And Moe, she was the hottest of them all, at least to me.

I had to go to the bathroom eventually, so I wandered off to take care of business. On my way back into the gym Ruth-Anne stopped me and said "Dale! Come with me." I was going to protest, because my plan was to pry my folks loose from their conversation and head home. But she grabbed my hand and tugged me back out into the hall.

She TOUCHED me. Ruth-Anne. Actual physical contact. I had no defense for that. I followed her. Down the hall we went, and around the corner.

"Have you seen Moe tonight?"

"Uh, yeah, a little while ago, our parents were talking," I stammered. I could barely speak, she was so close and so beautiful.

"And?"

"And what?"

"God, you're hopeless!"

"What?"

"You know she likes you, right?"

"What!?" That word was all I could say, or so it seemed. What. What. What.

"Moe's had a crush on you since like grade 9."

I just gaped at her. There was nothing I could say to that. There was no way Moe liked me, she always treated me like shit.

"You really are hopeless. Both of you. Look, don't tell her I told you any of this, but you really REALLY need to talk to her."

"But she hates me."

"What gave you that impression?"

"Well, like, she always brushes me off, the insults, the fact that she's a total bitch, and she wouldn't say a word to me tonight."

"Look, Moe has, uh, issues, okay? She doesn't know the right thing to say sometimes. But I know she likes you."

I had no idea what to say to that, so I just shook my head in disbelief.

"Look, go talk to her, OK? Be nice, you know, friendly. And don't stare at her boobs. That's not cool."

Busted. I pulled my eyes away from Ruth-Anne's cleavage and shut my gaping mouth. "Okay." My face burned with embarrassment.

"Good. And remember, be nice." She disappeared into the girl's washroom and I wandered back to the gym. Utterly mystified. Maureen likes me? Moe? No. Fucking. Way.

I was going to look for my parents, but the insanity of what Ruth-Anne just told me had me really confused. No way did Moe like me. This had to be some kind of setup, one last joke at my expense to end high school on a high note for them. Then I spotted Moe with her parents. Of course, when I looked at her she looked back and the glare I received removed all doubt. Nope, Moe for sure did NOT like me.

I turned and started looking for my folks. Just as I finally found them Ruth-Anne walked up to me. "Why aren't you talking to her?" she hissed.

"Maybe it's got something to do with the hate in her eyes when she looks at me?"

"Idiot. Come with me." She grabbed my arm and practically dragged me over to where Moe stood waiting for her parents to finally stop talking and go home. Moe probably had the same desire to go home that I had.

"Moe, maybe you can find something to talk about with Dale," Ruth-Anne said, then spun on her heel and left us standing there awkwardly. Well, awkward for me. Moe just looked hot, like she always did. And angry. Me, I was blushing the colour of a well cooked lobster. Maureen glanced at her folks, then at Ruth-Anne's departing form, and finally she turned her glare on me. Oh fuck, she did not look happy.

"I um, Hi Moe, uh, Maureen." I said.

"Hi."

Ouch. If you've never heard a master orator express maximum disdain for someone in a single word, well there she is. This was a big fuckin' mistake. But I pressed on, despite her obvious displeasure.

"I was, uh, just waiting for my parents to finish talking with everyone, and then leave. Ruth-Anne said I should, uh, talk to you." And she said 'be nice' too, so I smiled. Oh shit, she also said 'Don't tell Moe I said this'. Argh! I was fucked. And I tried not to look at her tits either, but holy fuck that was seriously difficult. That dress was amazing!

Moe blushed. No, really, she blushed. I had NEVER seen that before. She seemed to be trying hard to look at anything but me. "So, uh, where are you going to school in the Fall?" I asked. I kept my eyes moving too, looking around, in case someone was recording our little meeting for some embarrassing tiktok short. But I didn't see anyone with a phone pointed at us, and Ruth-Anne was back over there with her parents.

"Waterloo."

"Hey, me too. I'm taking Mechanical Engineering. What about you?"

"Math. Computer Science."

"Oh. Wow, I never figured you for a math nerd."

"Yeah, well, that's where the money is." she replied with a shrug. And that shrug made her tits do amazing things, which of course attracted my gaze. I wrenched my eyes back up to her face, and then I was blushing hard again.

Okay, Ruth-Anne said be nice, so I said "Hey that's great, at least we'll both know someone at school this fall. We'll uh, we should, uh, get. Together. For. Uh." Oh dude, so smooth, way to go, said my inner critic.

"Yeah, that would be good," she said as she looked around again, almost nervously, and it seemed like some of her anger for me had cooled. At least Moe no longer looked like she was going to kill me.

"You're uh, you look really pretty tonight."

Aw crap. That sounded lame. And 'pretty' was relative in her peer group, actually. Moe has really bushy blonde hair and a slim figure. Not a small girl, same height as me. Well, a little taller tonight, because she was wearing heels, so it felt like she towered over me. And her dress, well, what the fuck can I say. Her shimmering iridescent blue halter dress fell almost to the floor, with a slit up one side that went far enough to make you wonder if she had anything on underneath. And cleavage. Drool-worthy cleavage. I don't how a dress can produce that kind of display with so little to work with, but it did.

"Thanks. You're um-"

I held up my hand and interrupted her. "Poindexter Maximum Nerd."

For the first time ever, at least that I'd ever seen, she giggled. "Sorry. That really is the ugliest suit. Where did you get that, anyways?"

"My Mom bought it for me. I would've have been happy to just skip the whole ceremony thing and have them mail me my diploma."

"But you won so many awards!"

"Yeah, and everyone got to laugh at me in this suit over and over."

"I didn't laugh. I was proud of you," she said quietly. So quietly I almost didn't think I heard her. Proud of me? Moe? The one girl who always seemed to dislike me the most?

"Oh. Thanks. That's uh, nice, er..."

Maureen looked around, then took a breath, let it out, and seemed to stiffen up a bit. "D-Do you like me?" she asked. Do I like her? Wow, dumb question of the year. She's a goddess. 'Like' is way, way, way down the list of superlatives I would assign to Moe.