Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
**.**
"Joey I'm not angry anymore...angry anymore...angry anymore," the woman's voice trailed off.
"Well Concrete Blonde, you're a better person than I," Jimmy Schoenberger said as he knotted his tie.
"Oh, I bet you do," he said as 'I Touch Myself' by Divinyls played. "Damn, Spot, you playing some good ones today.
"And...jinxed it; should have kept my mouth shut," Jimmy muttered as 'The Sign' by Ace of Base started. "On a Nineties thing today, huh?"
"You ready? Is Daddy's baby girl ready?" Jimmy said as he scooped Guinevere from her crib.
Guinevere giggled and cooed as Daddy gnawed on her belly. Of course, right before he opened the door of the trailer, she scrunched up her beautiful little face and the sound of a wet bowel movement erupted. With a sigh, Jimmy took his jacket off and tucked the tie into his dress shirt.
"Do not, I mean it, do not pee on me; we don't have time for..." Jimmy said and barely managed to catch the spray into the fold of her diaper. "Guinevere Fae Schoenberger, what did I just say?"
He cleaned her up, put a fresh diaper on her, and again readied himself to leave the trailer. This time they made it out and to the minivan.
"You're a pretty girl, yes you are, yes you are," Jimmy cooed to the blonde child as he buckled her into the car seat.
"Look just like your mother," Jimmy said, giving her a wet noisy kiss to her forehead before sliding the rear door of the minivan shut.
Jimmy Schoenberger had first laid eyes on Marla Fae Tooms as they entered Kimble Academy, two frightened eighth graders among the forty eighth graders entering a large, unfamiliar, inhospitable place.
Jimmy's grandpa always told him, "Babe Ruth struck out a lot more times than he hit home runs."
"Hi. I'm Jimmy Schoenberger," Jimmy said, smiling at the beautiful blonde.
"I uh, I'm Marla. Marla Tooms. You know where Room one twelve is?" the blonde asked.
"Same room I'm looking for," Jimmy admitted. "Come on; let's see if we can find it."
At lunch, Jimmy sat with her and they compared notes. So far, they agreed; Mrs. Neidemeyer was nasty and evil, a real witch. Mr. Franks was a ginormous douche. And Mr. Cousins was cool.
Jimmy's grandfather drove them to the movies for their first date. The old man wiped at a tear as his grandson and his date got out of the car and held hands as they waited in line to buy tickets. Parking the car, the old man got out, sat on the hood of his 1984 Buick LeSabre and lighted a cigarette. Seven cigarettes later, the two kids came out of the theater, still holding hands.
"Had fun?" the old man asked as Jimmy allowed Marla to get into the rear seat first.
"Yeah," Marla agreed.
"Yes sir," Jimmy said.
"Yes sir," Marla parroted.
Jimmy got his first kiss outside of Marla's kitchen door. He blushed hotly, but smiled when Grandpa gave him a thumbs up.
"I uh, oh, oh I can't. My dad's back so we're going to that Brick's on Fifty four?" Marla said when Jimmy asked her if she'd like to go skating. "You know, the one where they throw the pizza in the air?"
Eldridge and Mitty said they were going to the Go-Kart Ranch in Pinoak so Jimmy invited himself along. And, entering the attached video arcade for a malt after a few laps around the track, Jimmy saw Marla with an older boy that also attended Kimble Academy.
"How was the pizza?" Jimmy asked and Marla's face went pale.
A few minutes later, Kenny Sampson, Marla's companion went up to Jimmy and shoved him. Jimmy's smile infuriated the boy.
"You really think she's wort losing your teeth over? I'll give you the first swing," Jimmy said, still smiling.
Kenny Sampson was two years older, thirty pounds heavier and six inches taller. He did throw a haymaker that connected solidly with air. Four punches later, the manager threw Jimmy out, then helped the other boy into a chair.
"Kenny threw the first punch," Eldridge told the manager.
"I did not," Kenny lied, tongue testing his loose teeth.
"It's right there, on camera," Mitty said, pointing to the security cameras all around the loud, lively room. "You came up; we wasn't bothering you, you came up and shoved Jimmy, then tried to hit him."
"And then he beat the living shit out of you," Eldridge giggled. "Made it look easy."
Keith Sampson banged hard on the door of the trailer. Grandpa came out, listened to what the angry, demanding man had to say, then told the man his son had started it.
"Not my fault, not my grandson's fault you raised a little sissy faggot can't handle himself," Grandpa had shrugged.
Keith managed, barely, to crawl to his truck and drive himself to the St. Elizabeth Parish Trauma Center. He made up a story about being jumped; must have been two or three guys. There was no way Keith was going to tell anyone he'd thrown the first punch. He certainly would not admit that a seventy year old man with a prosthetic leg managed to pummel him.
"Look, we, I'm only thirteen; we don't need to be all so serious about each other," Marla said in school on Monday.
"And you could have just said that, instead of lying to me," Jimmy said. "But don't worry about us getting too serious. I don't go out with girls that sneak around behind my back."
The next few years, Jimmy was polite, civil whenever their paths crossed. After all, it was a small high school. But he did not ask Marla for any further dates. He did have a few run-ins with Kenny; Marla gave Kenny scant attention and Kenny blamed this on Jimmy. Their last fight, Kenny recruited Doug Bercegay's assistance.
"Two against one," Kenny chortled.
"Uh huh," Jimmy smirked and kicked Doug in the balls with all his might.
Then, while Doug lay on the ground in the fetal position, Jimmy broke Kenny's nose, jaw, four ribs and left hand. Jimmy warned Kenny, and Doug, the next time, he would not be so merciful.
Hey, Jimmy, Marla really likes you," Jenna West, a cute red headed cheerleader cooed and giggled as Jimmy warmed up with the rest of the football team.
"Good to know, Jenna," Jimmy said and started his wind sprints when Coach Statler blew his whistle.
By the time Homecoming Week rolled around, Marla and her entourage had done their job; no girl would go with Jimmy to the Homecoming Dance. A few cheerleaders let Jimmy know Marla wanted him to ask her to be his date for the dance.
