Rita & Rhiannon's Bet

Here is the other version of

Rita's Bet

that I had mentioned I was working on. When I had first though about the premise for

Rita's Bet

I was undecided about where to take the story. There were two possibilities that appealed to me. While writing the first idea (published as

Rita's Bet

) I decided to write the second premise too when I finished, and this is that story.

This story follows the same two main characters as

Rita's Bet

, Rita and Rhiannon, and essentially the same broad plot outline. You will notice the first chapter in this story as mostly identical to the first chapter of

Rita's Bet

. However, near the end of this first chapter this version of the story diverges from the first version. The plot of this version rejoins the plot of the first version near the end of the last chapter.

This story is considerably longer than the first version of

Rita

, and many of the character motivations are different from the first version. Also, this version fills in some of Rita's and Rhiannon's immediately relevant backgrounds. There is also a third major character, Lena, who makes her appearance in chapter five, and she drives the story the rest of the way.

As I mentioned at the foreword to

Rita's Bet

, I love comments and observations about my stories.

However, once again: I don't really have an interest in hearing about how a chapter is submitted in what you feel is the wrong category. And I don't really care to bother with comments from burgeoning junior lawyers who just have to tell me all about the dire potential legal consequences of the action in the story -- just enjoy the story (or don't) for what it is. I also don't have an interest in hearing from unfortunate boys whose woman done him wrong at some point in his life and now he just has to lash out and vent his anger at women in general and find an excuse to call them skanks or whores. And for those who like to post with the hope of influencing the story line -- my stories, including this one, are finished before I start submitting them.

But your comments and observations on the literary aspects of the story (and especially in this case the differences between the two versions of the story), plot, character, mood, foreshadowing, etc, are all welcome and eagerly addressed and responded to, whether posted in the comment section or sent privately

Please enjoy the story. It is presented in eight chapters.

Rita and Rhiannon's Bet -- Another Telling of

Rita's Bet

Chapter One

I began to get a sinking feeling in my stomach as I rounded the corner that November Saturday evening in my high school senior year. Even so, my steps did not slow as I aimed myself toward a house on the right that I knew quite well: Rhiannon's house. The night was a bit chilly, but my varsity sweater provided enough warmth for me during my short walk. The cool air felt good as it chilled the skin above my taut knee socks and crept slowly up under the pleated skirt of my cheer uniform toward my thighs.

Rhiannon and I had been friends since first grade. We were in class together almost every year in grade school. Those years that we were not we were still inseparable on the playground. And in junior high school, when recess was a thing of the past, we were together almost every day after school and on weekends.

Rhi and Ri. Rhiannon and Rita.

But as our freshman year of high school rushed by a cloud suddenly descended on us. Enrollment in the district had been slowly and steadily increasing each year for the decade past and the bond issue to fund a new high school had passed three years previous. That shining new edifice, its bathroom stalls still free of graffiti and all its light bulbs presumably working, would be ready for its first classes the following fall.

Rhiannon and I hadn't thought this would affect us. We lived only two blocks from each other. Just take a right out my front door and walk a block to where my neighborhood ends at county highway 117, a two-lane, increasingly busier thoroughfare. Cross the highway, walk one block, make a left and Rhiannon's house is the second on the right.

What separated us was the decision by the local school board to use county highway 117 as the boundary between the two high schools' service areas. Shocked and disappointed, we learned that I would spend my last three years at our current high school while Rhiannon would attend the new school.

Sure, when we were separated at the beginning of that sophomore year we tried to stay in touch and got together when we could. But with academics and clubs and sports and other activities we slowly, and I suppose inevitably, receded from each other, our relationship becoming increasingly tenuous.

One girlish enthusiasm we shared from our first meeting in childhood was what we then considered the swanky, to-die-for excitement and thrill of being a cheerleader. We both wanted to be one someday, and many of our play encounters found us jumping in the air trying to see how high we could fly and how wide we could spread our legs while shaking imaginary pom-poms.

That last year we were together in school, freshman year, the first thing Rhi and I did was audition for spots on the cheerleading squad, vowing not to participate if the other didn't make the team. Well, for reasons no one ever had the inclination or obligation to explain to me I was selected and Rhiannon was not.

Talk about a dark cloud. My heart broke for her. And my promise to Rhi pressed on me like the weight of the world. How could I not honor my agreement with Rhi? But how could I pass up the chance to pursue the dream and goal I had entertained since my knees were covered with scabs? Finally I sat down with Rhi and told her how much I wanted to cheer. Could she ever forgive me if I went ahead and accepted the spot on the squad?

As I walked along the dark sidewalk in front of the house next to Rhi's I could still hear her voice clearly in my mind, and I imagined I could hear it in my ears.

"Sure, Rita," I heard her voice say. "Sure go ahead. I wouldn't want you to miss out on your dream." I could hear her heavy emphasis on the words 'you' and 'your.' Now, seventeen years later, I would know exactly a girl's feelings hearing that sentence spoken in that way. But then I was far too immature to understand her meaning. Instead I heard only the surface words: the sweet parole that set me free. All else was dismissed unnoticed in the swelling of sheer joy her permission had unleashed in me.

The rest of the year went by, but even I began to notice by February how distant Rhi had become toward me. When I asked her what was the matter she would smile and tell me, 'Nothing, Rita. Nothing at all.'

I don't know that my soul really accepted that evaluation, but in that chilly, third quarter of the academic year any association with our broken cheerleading deal in September had receded too far into the past for me to link it to whatever might be bothering her. I was a cheerleader, she was not, and those two facts had now become just a part of our lives and our experiences at school.

My sinking feeling came from the eight or ten cars parked in front of Rhiannon's house and farther down the street. I knew the reason for their presence, and that knowledge sparked a knot of trepidation in my gut. Others, the older and eighteen year old cheer squad and football team members, were to be present.

I had timed my departure from home to arrive at Rhi's front door at exactly the appointed hour: eight in the evening. From all those years of experience I knew well by now exactly how long it took for me to walk from my house to Rhi's. At right on the dot I was ringing her doorbell, after having mounted the two steps from the sidewalk to the Paulson's walk, and then the three steps up to the small porch at their front door. I rang the bell and waited, the sight of those cars again tickling at my apprehension nerve.

While I waited a moment for the door to open a recent memory came to mind, and it came in spite of the unease that I was feeling since turning the corner. The memory made me smile. It was just a couple weeks ago, a week or two into November. I was in the convenience store and suddenly there she was two aisles over. I'd not seen Rhi for months, not since the summer in fact. But it was good to see her and I immediately made my way in her direction.

I came at her from the side and slightly from the back, she examining the choices displayed on the magazine rack. I gave her bottom a little spank. She looked up, a smile starting on her face. When her eyes met mine the smile faded and she said, "Oh, hi, Rita."

Her demeanor left no doubt she wasn't excited to see me. I guessed that we really had taken different forks in the road after freshman year, and that we were now far down sundered and increasingly divergent paths. I tried to make some small talk, tried to engage her in a conversation about how our respective senior years were going. But no dice.

She answered my questions monosyllabically or with as few words as would suffice, her body still mostly turned toward the Newsweeks, Times, Guns & Ammos, and Seventeens. She asked a couple questions of her own, but I could tell her heart was not in it.

I made a last stab before withdrawing. I knew that after that disastrous, strained freshmen year she had hit her new school and immediately had made the cheer squad. 'Mission accomplished,' I had thought when I'd heard the news. She was off on her own adventure, her own childhood wish fulfillment quest. I had sincerely hoped it would be good for her.

"So, still with the cheer squad?" I asked.

"Um, yeah," she said, her eyes avoiding mine. I didn't really have to ask: her varsity jacket told me the tale. I was not wearing mine that day.

"I made co-captain this year," I said, trying to make the statement matter of fact, not wanting to seem like I was rubbing my success in her face in case her own experience had not taken her to such lofty heights.

"Wow, good for you," she said, real warmness and enthusiasm in her voice for the first time. She turned more toward me displaying the front of her jacket: the varsity letter, the words 'Cheerleader' and 'Co-captain' in wooly script. "Me too. I'm co-captain this year too."

I leaned into her for a hug saying, "I'm so happy for you, Rhi." I was glad when she hesitated only an instant before returning the embrace, although not as tightly as I would have liked.

We pulled back and looked in each other's eyes. "All those years ago," I said, giving my head a sentimental shake.

Rhiannon seemed to retreat some back into her distracted state, but not entirely. I could tell I had made a connection and she seemed to engage more. Her eyes met mine and she even smiled a little."Yeah, all those years ago," she said, some enthusiasm warming her voice.

I really couldn't think of anything else to say, and couldn't bear to torture her any longer if this really was the chore for her it seemed to be.

"Well," I said. I wasn't sure how to withdraw. "See you," I offered. Lame.

"Yeah, see you," Rhi returned.

I paid for my purchases and exited the store. I beeped the car open, put my two bags in the back, and was standing next to my car, my back to the store, fumbling a bit to isolate the ignition key before I climbed in.

Suddenly I felt a spank on my own bottom. Thenarms were around my shoulders squeezing me in an embrace, and Rhiannon's head and hair were tight against mine. I knew her scent and breathed it in, relished it.

"Hey girlfriend," she said, real sparkle in her voice. "I guess I was a little distracted in there. Sorry."

"It's ok," I offered. "We all have those days," I said, turning and cupping her cheek with the palm of my hand. "Rhi it was really good to see you. Remember all those days we spent all afternoon playing cheerleaders? Well, I guess we've both arrived."

She brightened. "Both made co-captain," she said. "One to cross off the ol' bucket list."

I laughed at her joke, glad to see her in a good mood.

She got serious for a moment. "Hey, we need to get together," she said. "Our birthdays were a couple weeks ago."

"Ta-da!" I enthused. "Eighteen at last!" We had been born three days apart, her on October 30th and me on November 2nd.

"Well, we need to celebrate," Rhiannon said. And we were soon into planning our night out. I felt on top of the world.

I was never much into drinking and I was glad to discover Rhi had not gotten into it either. We ended up going out that Saturday evening. Of course we were not old enough to enter any licensed establishment, and not being too interested in alcohol abuse neither of us had the fake ID needed for that activity. But we hung out, went here and there, drove around laughing, and we ended up back at my house.

I opened a bottle of wine, snatched from the pantry, and we toasted our birthdays while watching a movie in my room. Our low alcohol tolerance was clearly evident: both of us got a little snockered by sharing a bottle of wine.

"You know what we need to do?" Rhiannon asked me at the conclusion of the movie.

"What, Girlfriend?" I asked in return.

"We've got to do something wild." Rhi said.

"I'm listening," I said.

She thought for a few moments, but I got the sense she knew where she was going. That was fine with me since I had no clue where to take this. I just knew I wanted Rhi and Ri to be together again. The Dynamic Duo.

"Ok," Rhi said, and her face colored. "Remember seventh and eighth grade?" she asked, her voice lowering.

"Sure. What about it?" I asked.

"Remember how we used to play strip poker?" she asked.

Now my face took on the same reddish color Rhiannon's was exhibiting. We had been twelve and thirteen in those two grades. Both of us had been starting to sense insistent feelings from 'down there': the promise and potential for enormous pleasure, curiosity and an unfocused longing filling our minds. We shared the news of the tickle we both felt in our stomachs: not just the curiosity of seeing another person naked, but the thrill of having to strip for another.

We had always used the word 'strip', rather than a synonym like 'disrobe' or 'unveil' or 'undress.' Although not invariably. Sometimes we would a play a game in which no clothes came off until the end of the game and the loser was obliged to strip from scratch. On those occasions if I were the loser Rhi would take particular delight in loudly ordering: "Ok, Rita, you lost. Peel!"

It didn't matter yet at that age that our eyes would take in the nude body of someone of our own sex, or that our revealing of our own nudity would be just to the eyes of another girl. We just knew that we wanted to experience that thrill. The prospect and anticipation of that thrill was mixed up somehow with those blurry waves of desire we were both experiencing.

So for the last couple months of seventh grade, through the ensuing summer, through eighth grade and the summer before high school we dealt the cards on a regular basis whenever we had her house or my house to ourselves for an hour or two.

The thrill had been everything my adolescent, just barely pubescent brain had hoped for. My stomach roiled with anticipation every time, both and either over the prospect of our game ending with me nude and blushing, or me giggling in triumph as Rhi was obligated to model her birthday suit.

And the night after every one of those games my hand was in my panties under the covers as that potential for pleasure I had sensed became a powerful and mind-numbing reality.

"Oh, do I ever remember," I said smiling. "These little fingers never got such a workout as they did at night after those games." I wiggled the fore and middle fingers of both my hands at her.

She laughed. "I know exactly what you mean," she said.

"So, should I find a deck of cards?" I asked.

Rhiannon shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head. "Yeah, why don't we give it a try again. Are you game?"

Was I ever! I remembered how close I had felt to Rhi all those years ago, the two of us sharing the intimacy of revealing our developing bodies to each other. "I'll be right back," I said.

I descended the stairs and made my way down the hall to the kitchen. My mood was light, made that way by this opportunity to share closeness and familiarity again with Rhiannon. I thought that perhaps this experience might reset our relationship: take us back to seventh and eighth grade. That it might take us back to a time before we went to our separate high schools and on our separate ways. Maybe it would give us a second chance to align our paths with each other.

I found a deck of cards in the first kitchen drawer I checked, but it was a pinochle deck. Two drawers later however I found my treasure, and I turned and trotted out of the kitchen with a glad bounce in my step. I made a detour through the dining and living rooms just to see if my parents were home.

The hour was still fairly early, just a little after midnight, and I was not surprised to find them still out. Rhiannon had a younger brother and three younger sisters which, although the youngest was now twelve, still kept her parents pretty homebound. But I am an only and it has been years since my parents have had to stay in or get a sitter on my account. They take advantage of their freedom. They have close friends (just how close is a question I have recently begun to consider) and are seldom home before two or three o'clock on a Saturday night.

I came through the door and held up the fruit of my search: a deck of bicycle-back poker cards.

Rhiannon and I settled onto my bed and we took a quick inventory of what we were wearing: making sure we were even and the game was fair, just as we had as giggling middle schoolers. Six losing hands stood between either of us and our birthday suit.

I saw Rhiannon look to one side toward my closet, the folding doors halfway open. I followed her gaze and saw what I was sure had drawn her interest. At the back of my clothes closet, partly obscured by shoes and a few other odds and ends, was a wooden paddle. Rhiannon's eyes found mine again. She looked around as if she thought there might be prying ears that would overhear her next suggestion. "Want to make the game a little more interesting?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, my voice hushed and almost breathless. I answered immediately, as if I were in a trance. I knew I should ask first what 'more interesting' meant, but I knew Rhi would have to explain anyway. And considering the object that had drawn her gaze it didn't seem a great leap to suppose what she had in mind. I knew that whatever she suggested it would bring us closer: it would be a secret only we would share.

She took the couple of steps over to my closet. She bent down, reached to the back, and came out with the paddle in her hand. As she moved back to the bed she hefted it.

"Loser gets her ass smacked," Rhiannon said, a bit of a smile on her face. "A little butt warming for being the loser." She smacked the paddle's hard surface menacingly against the palm of one hand.

I think I gulped! But my mind raced back to a time about fifteen months in the past.