No worries, we're all 18 in this story. She came to me in a dream, especially the shorts, which in the dream were even more risqué, exposing nearly half her delightful cheeks. The vision was pressing her up against the wall and cupping those cheeks in the shorts. Maybe in a later episode. Those shorts would have gotten her tossed out, so I tamed it a little bit. Not that any of this is at all credible.
She rattled around for a long time in my head, wanting to come out on paper. Well, on the screen, at least. Somehow I keep inventing female characters that I fall completely in love with. Kim is no exception. Straight from a dream, however. I only sort of played basketball in high school, and I only knew one six-foot girl. Enjoy, I hope.
Fall registration. Hot August day. My senior year in high school, 1972. Long lines in the gymnasium as we mostly stood around waiting to get our classes. Easier for seniors, and very easy for me, since I'd sacrificed study halls in my first three years to end up with a light schedule my last year.
Then, I saw her. Kim. I had seen her when we were both in summer basketball camp. An even six feet of lithe athleticism, she had been All-State her junior year. I had heard a rumor that her parents had moved into town, and she was transferring to my school. Guess so. There she was.
And was she there. Long blonde hair, parted in the middle, falling loosely halfway down her back. Bright blue eyes, a quick smile, and a ready laugh. She was radiant. But today, it was her shorts. Denim cutoffs so short that her cute, firm cheeks peeked out from below. A plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up, completed a look that was together, and sexy without seeming to try. Sneakers with rolled-down socks made me smile.
She pinned the Adorable Meter. I had watched her at camp. Quick, graceful, extremely talented, surprisingly tough and aggressive without seeming so, yet unaffected by her stardom. She was nice to everyone, sweet, and always happy-go-lucky. I was too intimidated to even talk to her for two weeks. But she had an underlying, subtle sophistication, a maturity. We had, at that time, what we called "the cheerleader mentality," ultimately responsible for that horrible, shallow comment "Have a nice day!" that is spoken all the time now, but never meant. Kim wasn't that, at all. If she wished you well, it was with those deep blue eyes looking right at you. No way would you refuse to comply, and your heart leapt that she would bestow such a blessing. Call it a pleasant intensity. She was a star, as a basketball player, and as a person.
Smitten? Me? I was a nerd before the term was ever applied. A loner, more or less. Quiet. A top student, an average athlete. Painfully shy and insecure. Girls, more or less, terrified me, even as I admired them. Yeah, smitten applied, but fat chance that I would ever even remotely act on it.
She looked over and saw me. With a squeal she left the line and ran over to me...and almost ran me over. It wasn't so much a hug as it was almost a tackle. Totally unprepared, I almost went over backwards.
"Dave! I'm so happy to see someone I know," she exclaimed, as I tried to keep my balance.
"You know my name?" I asked, truly surprised.
"Of course, silly!" she said, backing off her hug enough to look in my face. "I remember you from camp. You have no idea how great it is to know someone here." She hugged me again, tight. She bounced up and down a little, bending the needle of the Adorable Meter.
"Kim, I didn't even talk to you at camp," I said. "How do you even know my name?"
She backed off again, and her eyes twinkled as she looked in mine. "Research," she said simply. The smile behind the twinkle was warm. I felt like a stick of butter in 110 degree heat.
"Can you come home with me for lunch?" It almost sounded like a plea. "Please? Mom will be so excited that I met someone I know. And besides, you're so tall!"
True enough. I was 6'6". But as far as basketball went, I wasn't in her class. I was tall, and solid, but slow, not very quick, and nowhere near as instinctively talented. Nor was I nearly as handsome as she was adorable.
"Please?" How did she make her eyes beg, too? And what chance did I have to resist? The needle bent more.
"I'll meet you by the door when we're through," I stammered. At that time, bewilderment was a common state of being for me.
"Great!" She even sounded like she meant it.
We finished registration just before lunchtime, and met up by the door. "We only live a couple blocks away," she said, looking right at me with that smile. "Let's walk!" And with that, she took off. I was left to catch up, but watching her incredible, tight rear end peeking out from under those cutoffs, mounted upon the longest, loveliest legs I'd ever seen put me in no real hurry to catch up. And the grace she had on the basketball court translated into a motion as she walked that was mesmerizing. Her body just flowed.
Finally, she noticed, stopped and turned around. "Are you sneaking a peek at my butt?" she asked with a wicked smile.
"Uh, you caught me," I said glumly as I walked up to her.
She stroked the underside of my chin, almost as if I were a puppy. "I'll just have to take it as a compliment!" she said, her eyes turning gentle. How did she do that? The needle broke.
Lunch was, well, cute. Her dad had taken a new job nearby. Her mom was really nice, asking a lot of questions about the town, stores, restaurants, the school, people. She also gently probed me for who I was, about my family, my school career. She was subtle, and good. I felt completely comfortable and after a while was concerned that I was babbling. Kim was quiet, just watching me, all the time with this little smile on her face. Her eyes curious. How did she do that?
Mom excused herself to go grocery shopping. Kim laughed. "I think she likes you."
"Doesn't she usually like the boys you bring home?"
"I wouldn't know," she said lightly, "I never have...before now."
"Then why me?"
"Why not? Would you have preferred that I didn't?" The smile was genuine. She was teasing.
"No, not at all," I said, "But I just don't understand why."
"Because I know you from camp. Because you're the only person I know in a new place. Because you're tall. Because I want to get to know you."
I had no idea how to respond. "Well, uh, I guess I'll be going," I said.
"Are you good at math?" she asked.
"Um, yeah, I guess," I said.
"Will you help me? I'm terrible at it."
"Sure. Anytime."
"And can we play one-on-one? I'd love to have someone big like you who can help me work on my moves."
"You mean, basketball?"
Her eyes went wide in surprise, and then she laughed a full, throaty laugh, throwing her head back, and hugging me. I was confused. "Yes, silly. Basketball! What did you think I meant?" Then it struck her. "Oh, my!" she wagged a finger at me. "Naughty boy! Well, we'll see about the other."
I blushed about as deeply as anyone could blush, and hung my head. She looked at me hard. When I met her eyes, I only blushed more. My face was burning up. Her eyes took on a softness, but she was enjoying herself, more, maybe, than just a little bit. "Dave! I'll take that as a compliment, too. I'm flattered." My blush deepened. "And," she said lightly, "I didn't say No. See you at school!"
I left, or more should say, floated, out of the house.
The whole school quickly fell in love with Kim. Always bright and cheerful, she was able to befriend everyone with her open manner, ability to listen, sharp memory, and constant, genuine smile. I saw her daily, and we would chat a little bit. She always had a ready smile and nice things to say. But they never rang false. She was sensitive and perceptive.
She and I started practicing together, playing mostly one-on-one. It gave her the chance to work on her inside moves and rebounding against someone much bigger. She was good. I worked hard to counter her quickness. She, on the other hand, was creative and inventive. I'm embarrassed to say it, but we were evenly matched. But well, to be honest, it was often hard to concentrate. She was gorgeous even with, and maybe especially with, sweat on her face.
And she pulled stuff she'd never pull otherwise. Dribbling, she'd back into me, planting that delicious butt right into my crotch and rubbing it, just a little bit. Just as I was contemplating committing a very personal foul, she would sense my distraction, spin past me and go in for an easy layup. She would laugh at me as she passed me the ball, her eyes just a little wicked. How did she do that?
All the guys at school fell in love with her that fall. She was always surrounded by the most popular guys in the halls. But as weeks passed, I never heard of anyone actually taking her out which, for one thing, kept her from being universally hated by all the girls for stealing the men. Somehow, she was able to stay in everyone's good graces. Finally, I asked her about dating.
"No one has asked me out that I'm really interested in," she said simply. "They're nice guys, but..." She shrugged. The sparkle had left her eyes. That was a first.
"Does that mean you don't want to go out?" I asked.
"No, just that the guy I want to ask me out hasn't yet," she replied. "And to be honest, it's getting pretty annoying."
That's the first time I'd ever heard her say anything even slightly negative. "You mean there is somebody you'd want to go out with?"
"Yup," she said simply.
"Who's that? Maybe I can help?" I said.
She just looked at me, unsmiling. The look became a stare. She wouldn't break eye contact. Slowly, an idea formed in my thick brain. She saw it form. That smile crept into her face and those eyes started to twinkle again.
"Me?" I asked meekly.
The smile grew just a little, and she nodded slightly, just once. I panicked. She saw it and laughed out loud.
