Pam and the Drill

The hallway was packed with kids, a thousand of them, from one end to the other. The stairs were crowded with kids going up and coming down. Pam's locker was down that hall somewhere, she hoped. Twice already that day she got lost, and the books were getting heavy in her arms. She hated the first day of school. She pushed through the crowd. Her locker was on the left side, wasn't it? She had to remember which hallway, the locker number and the combination. She hated it.

She found her locker halfway down the hall, where the crowd of kids was thickest. She wedged between two guys in football jackets and stepped over somebody's backpack. She lost her balance and bumped into a guy and a girl making out against the locker beside hers.

"Hey, watch it," the guy said, glaring at her.

"Sorry," Pam said.

"Hey, Pam, what's up?" the girl said.

Pam looked up. It was Debbie, with her arms around the guy's neck. Her face was flushed.

"Hi, Debbie. What are you doing here?"

"Hey, I'll see you. I gotta get to class," the guy said.

"Ok," Debbie said.

He gave her one last kiss, glanced at Pam and walked off through the crowd. They watched him go. Debbie had a wide grin.

"Wow, he's cute," Pam said. She shifted the books to her left hand and held them up with her knee. She turned the dial on the locker, trying to remember the combination.

"Yeah, I know. His name's Brian. He's a hot kisser, too."

"You move pretty fast, I mean for the first day of school, you know."

The locker didn't open. Pam spun the dial and tried again.

"I have to. Can't let the other girls get all the good guys. I already met three cute guys today."

Debbie leaned against the locker and watched Pam work the combination. Finally, the locker opened.

"Why did you pick Brian?" Pam said. She dumped the books in the locker with the others she collected that day.

"What makes you think I just chose Brian?" Debbie said, still grinning. "Besides, Brian gets my pussy wet. I think I wanna make it with him."

Pam tried not to look at her. She didn't want Debbie to see the jealousy on her face.

"How come you're here? I thought you graduated," Pam said. She closed the locker and spun the dial.

Debbie shrugged. She pulled the piece of gum from between her teeth into a string, wound it around her long fingernail and sucked it back into her mouth.

"I missed too much school, you know, when I was pregnant and all. They made me take it over." She glanced at the other kids as if to see if they heard. "So, like, what's your next class?"

"Math," Pam said.

"I got English. It's downstairs. Really boring, I bet."

"Where's your locker?"

Debbie pointed to the locker beside Pam's.

"Right here. Right next to you."

"Where are all your books?" Pam said.

Debbie shrugged again. "Don't have none."

Pam shook her head. "You're so lucky."

"I know. I always am," Debbie said with a giggle.

The bell rang. Pam jumped. Debbie rolled her eyes.

"Oh shit. I hate that fucking bell," she said.

Pam scrambled to get the schedule from her pocket.

"I'm late. I can't believe I'm late again. I don't even know where my class is."

"Relax. It's not that big a deal," Debbie said and touched her arm. "Look, I gotta get to class. I'll meet you right here, ok, right after school? We can go to my house. I got some stuff to show you."

"Ok," Pam said.

Debbie walked off up the hall, swinging her arms and shaking her hips. The crowd of kids had thinned. Pam looked both ways up the hall, unsure which way to go. She finally found the room on the second floor. The door was closed. She could hear the teacher's voice from inside. She turned the handle and opened the door slowly. He looked right at her.

Pam's heart stopped for a second. Her mouth parted slightly. He was gorgeous.

"You're late," he said. He had a rich, deep voice to go with his dark eyes. He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk. "Are you Pam McCullen?"

"Yeah?" she said in a voice just more than a whisper.

He marked the sheet with his pen. "I was afraid you got lost. That didn't happen, did it?"

"No," Pam said. Every kid in the classroom was looking at her. Their faces were so foreign.

He smiled. "Good. Have a seat. We've already started."

He turned to the chalkboard and continued writing. Pam looked for an empty seat. She found a desk near the back of the room behind a guy with a red jacket. The girl in the desk in the next row smiled at her.

The teacher was writing math stuff on the chalkboard. He had written his name in the upper left corner.

"Mr. Smith," Pam said softly. She watched his back as he wrote. He looked dreamy and his voice was so soothing.

"Hey, your name's Pam McCullen, ain't it?" said the girl in the next row, speaking in a low whisper.

"Yeah, it is."

"I thought so. Your brother's name is Ethan, right?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

The girl smiled. "Your brother plays hockey with my brother."

They listened to Mr. Smith. He outlined what they would do for that year, then passed out books and assigned a page of homework. Pam groaned. How could he give them homework on the first day?

Mr. Smith sat at his desk for the last few minutes of class. The rest of the kids talked quietly. Pam leaned across the aisle to the girl in the next desk.

"What's your name?" she said.

"Nancy."

Pam looked at Mr. Smith. "He's cute. I hate having homework, though."

"I know it. Mr. Smith's the coach of the girl's softball team, too."

"Really?" Pam watched him working at his desk and tried to imagine him as a coach. She didn't know anything about softball, though.

The guy with the red jacket in the desk in front of her turned around.

"I heard he was gay," he said.

Nancy sneered. "You wish," she said.

The others sitting around them snickered. Pam smiled, but she had no idea what they were talking about.

"I heard he has a big dick," the girl behind Nancy said.

"Ooo, I'll bet it's real big," the guy in the red jacket said.

"Where'd you hear that?" Nancy said.

The girl behind her lowered her voice.

"My sister's friend. She said she did it with him last year."

"No way," Nancy said.

"Did what?" Pam said.

They all looked at her.

"You know, it. Don't be stupid," the girl behind Nancy said.

Pam blushed and turned away. She didn't care what they said. She still thought Mr. Smith was cute. She was glad she had his class, even if he did assign homework on the first day.

The bell rang. Pam went back to her locker, glad to finally be done with the first day of school. The only thing she had to worry about was that she remembered which books she needed to do her homework.

Debbie was waiting by her locker. She had no books and carried nothing but her purse. She smiled when she saw Pam.

"So what was it like?" Debbie said.

"What was what like?"

"Math, silly."

Pam shrugged. The lock opened the first time she tried the combination. The stack of books had grown to fill more than half the locker. She got her purse and did not bother to put the math book or her binder in.

"It was all right. It was just math, I mean. He gave us homework on the first day."

Debbie sneered. "God. I hate that. Who was he?"

"Who?"

"The teacher."

"Mr. Smith."

"Oh God," Debbie said, rolling her eyes up. "He is like, such a doll. I had him for math last year. He's got this, like, gorgeous ass."

"Yeah, I know," Pam said. She could not look directly at Debbie.

"Look, are you doing anything tonight?"

Pam held up her math book. "Just homework."

"Is it a lot?"

"No, just one page."

"Good. Come on, you can do it at my house," Debbie said. She grabbed Pam by the arm and dragged her down the hall.

Debbie lived only a couple of blocks from the school. They walked past all the kids waiting for buses and rides from their parents. The sun was still bright and warm. The leaves had not yet started to change colors.

Debbie talked of the other girls in school and the guys they were already going with. Pam listened, but couldn't understand why none of the guys asked her to go with them.

They walked up the driveway to Debbie's house.

"My brother's home. That's his car," she said, pointing to the red car in the driveway.

"What's his name?" Pam said. She paused a moment to look in the car. On the passenger seat was an old t-shirt, a baseball glove and a baseball.

"Gary. He works at Stewart Chevrolet, you know, the car dealership?" Debbie said.

"Oh."

"Yeah. He paints cars. That's why his looks so good."

"Oh," Pam said again. She didn't notice. She took another second to look at the paint job and followed Debbie into the house.

The inside was air conditioned and very comfortable. Pam set her math book on a table next to a chair.

"You want a pop or something?" Debbie said. She went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

"Yeah, a pop," Pam said.

Debbie bent over with her hands on her knees.

"I got root beer or cherry pop. Which do you want?"

"Root beer," Pam said.

A guy appeared from behind the open refrigerator door. He wore a pair of shorts but no shirt and his chest was damp with sweat. He looked down at Debbie's backside and put his hand right on her butt.

"Hey, Deb," he said.

She squealed and stood upright suddenly. A can of pop dropped from her hand and bounced on the floor.

"Gary. You scared the shit out of me," Debbie shouted and slapped his bare chest.

He grinned. "You wanna fool around?"

He put both hands around Debbie's waist and pushed her back against the counter. His leg forced between her knees. He leaned forward to kiss her, but she turned her head.

"Gary, not now," she said, her hands on his shoulders.

Gary looked up and saw Pam. She smiled briefly. His hands dropped from Debbie's waist.

"Who's your friend?" he said.

He walked through the kitchen in her direction. Pam backed away until she ran into the table. The muscles in his chest and arms rippled and she couldn't keep her eyes off them.

"That's Pam," Debbie said.

"Hi," she said with a timid smile.

"Hey Pam." His eyes roamed down her body from her head to her toes. "You're a pretty hot chick. You wanna get it on?"

"Gary, leave her alone," Debbie said.

"What? She's old enough," Gary said, his hands out with the palms turned up.

"She doesn't wanna do it with you."

Pam wasn't so sure. She glanced at Gary's crotch. The front of his shorts had a nice lump.

"How do you know?" He looked at Pam. "What do you say? Real quick, right here on the couch?"

"Get out of here," Debbie said.

Gary nodded, grinning. "Right. You chicks just don't want me around so you can get it on."

Debbie smacked his shoulder. Gary flinched and laughed.

"All right, all right, I'm leaving," he said. He grabbed a ring of keys off the table and left.

Debbie sighed. "He can be such a jerk sometimes."

"Yeah," Pam said. She was sorry to see him go. Through the window, she watched him get in his car and drive off. He might have been a jerk, but at least he wanted to do it with her.

Debbie handed Pam a can of root beer. She dropped into the recliner and propped her feet up.

"Gary's the one who got me pregnant."

Pam's eyes grew wide. "Really?"

"Yeah. I told him he would. I warned him to use a rubber. He just fucked me anyway."

Pam stared. Debbie turned on the tv and flipped through the channels. Pam tried to imagine her having sex with her brother. She saw him laying on top of Debbie, between her spread legs. She closed her eyes. Her own crotch felt warm. She would love for that to happen to her, even with Gary, but especially with Ethan.

Debbie turned off the television. "This is boring. Come on, let's go to my room."

Pam grabbed her math book and followed Debbie down the hall to her room. Debbie shut the door and fell on the bed, bouncing. Pam instantly noticed a phone on the night stand by the bed, and her mouth fell open.

"Oh my God, you've got your own phone. Is it real?" Pam said.

Debbie's face looked incredulous. "Of course it's real. What do you think?"

Pam sat on the bed with one leg tucked under and one foot still on the floor.

"Can you call anyone anytime you want?"

"Yeah. Except when my Dad says it's too late. And I can't call when someone else is on the phone."

"Oh," Pam said, a little disappointed. It wasn't as exciting as if Debbie had her own phone all to herself.

"So, what do you wanna do?"

Pam held up her math book. "My homework?"

For a moment, Debbie looked horrified, but she smiled.

"Sure. Show me what you got." She scooted across the bed next to Pam.

"Well, it's the first lesson," Pam said, and opened the book.

"Oh, sure, that's easy. I can do this shit in my sleep."

Debbie took the book from Pam's hands and set it in her own lap. She stared at the page for a long time without speaking. She turned a couple of pages, then turned them back.

"Yeah, I remember this stuff. God, I hate math."

Pam watched her, gnawing the end of her pen. She desperately hoped Debbie could help her get this done. She hated to think what Mr. Smith would think of her if she couldn't get the first homework assignment done.

Debbie sighed and handed the book back.

"I can't concentrate on that right now. I got too much on my mind. Sorry."

Debbie climbed off the bed and went to her dresser. Pam stared at her back, her mouth open. Was she serious? She looked down at the page, open to the first lesson. The math problems looked like a foreign language.

She turned the notebook to a fresh page and wrote "1." on the top line. The instructions didn't help. She read them for the third time. Mr. Smith explained how to do them, but only briefly, and she didn't understand what he meant and she couldn't remember, anyway. She wished she stayed and asked for help.

"I think I'll call Dale," Debbie said. She bounced back on the bed, sat on the edge, picked up the phone and dialed. Holding the phone to her ear, she looked at Pam and smiled.

Pam tried to smile back, but couldn't. She turned her face down to the math book so she wouldn't have to look at Debbie. Or was it so Debbie wouldn't see her face? She couldn't figure out what she was feeling. The words and the pages seemed to turn red.

"Hey, Dale. What's up?" Debbie said into the phone. She lay back against her pillows and twirled the phone cord in her fingers. "Huh? Not much. Just hanging out, you know. Like, what are you doing? What? No way." She put her hand over the mouthpiece and leaned toward Pam, lowering her voice. "He says he and Wes are drinking from his parent's liquor cabinet."

She giggled. Pam smirked and looked back at the math book. None of it made any sense, and she couldn't concentrate with Debbie talking on the phone. She tried to shut it out. She had to concentrate, try to figure out how to solve the first problem. She scribbled the numbers on the page in the notebook until she thought she had the answer, then started on the next problem. Only nine more to go.

Debbie said something and Pam stopped in the middle of writing the problem to listen. She couldn't be sure she heard it right.

"What? She put it in her mouth? Did she suck it? Oh my God," Debbie said and laughed.

Pam looked at her out of the corner of her eye. Debbie was on her back, looking up at the ceiling. What were they talking about?

"You did what? On her face and everything? No way," Debbie said, and laughed out loud. She noticed Pam looking at her and covered the mouthpiece. "Dale says he was getting a blowjob from some girl from Medford and he came on her face. Ain't that so crazy?" She took her hand away and spoke into the phone. "What? No, I was talking to my friend, Pam. She's sitting on my bed. No, dummy, she has her clothes on."

Pam set her pencil down. She couldn't concentrate, especially with the image in her mind of Debbie's friend shooting his stuff on the face of some girl from Medford.

Debbie sat back against the pillows and looked directly at Pam.

"Well, she's got blonde hair, she's real pretty ..." She looked at Pam's chest. "Yeah, they're nice, about as big as mine."

Pam blushed. Her arm covered her chest. Debbie giggled into the phone, then suddenly looked shocked.

"What? Is she a virgin? How the hell should I know, dummy?" Debbie said. She made a wide-eyed face at Pam.

Pam slapped at Debbie's leg, but she jerked it away, laughing.

"Ok, hold on." Debbie held out the phone. "He wants to talk to you."

Pam recoiled away. "Me? No way. No way."

"Yes, talk to him," Debbie said, and insistently thrust the phone at her.

Pam swallowed hard. She took the phone and held it up to her ear.

"Hello?" she said in a timid voice.

"Hey, are you Pam?" a boy's voice said.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Dale. How old are you?"

"Eighteen," Pam said.

Debbie climbed off the bed and went over to her dresser. She kicked off her shoes and unfastened her jeans.

"That's cool. I'm eighteen too, you know?" Dale said.

"Really?" Pam watched Debbie out of the corner of her eye. She wiggled out of her tight jeans, pushed them to the floor and stepped out. She wore black, lacy panties that had thin straps on the sides. Pam wished she had a pair of panties like those. All she had were plain, white cotton panties. She wished her body was more like Debbie's.

"So, look Pam, like are you hot, or what?" Dale said.

"What?"

"I said, are you a fox?"

Pam giggled. "I don't know. What's a fox?"

Debbie put on a pair of shorts and turned around. "Tell him you're a fox," she said.

Pam covered the mouthpiece. "Why?" she said in a loud whisper.

"If you're a virgin, I bet you must be pretty hot," Dale said before Debbie could answer.

Pam's mouth opened wide. "You think so?"

"Definitely. You like to kiss guys?"

"I guess so," Pam said. Her face became serious. "Why?"

"'Cause I'd like to give you a kiss," Dale said.

Pam giggled and covered her mouth. "You would?"

"Sure. Don't you wanna kiss me?"

Pam couldn't answer. Suddenly, she was warm all over and her breathing was heavy.

"I can hear you breathing," Dale said. "Look, why don't you and Debbie come over? I'll let you suck on my dick, and I'll cum on your face, too."

Pam gasped. The words buzzed in her ears. She slammed the phone down and looked into Debbie's surprised eyes.

"Why'd you do that?" Debbie said.

Pam shrugged. She was trembling.

"I don't know. I didn't like what he was saying."

Debbie looked from her to the phone and back again.

"What'd he say?"

Pam shrugged again. Her pulse raced.

"He said he wanted me to ... He wanted to come on my face."

Debbie stared at her for a second, then laughed. "So you hung up on him?"

"Yeah, he was rude."

Debbie laughed again. "What's wrong with giving Dale a blowjob? Don't you want him to cum on your face? I know he's not the best looking guy, but ..."

"I didn't think it would be right," Pam said, but looking at Debbie's face, she wasn't so sure. If Dale asked her to suck his dick, why shouldn't she? So what if he wanted to come on her face? She'd like that, too, wouldn't she?

Debbie shrugged it off. "No biggie. He'll call back. We can suck his cock some other time."

Pam swallowed and squeezed her legs together. She wanted him to call back right that moment. If he asked again, she would suck his cock.

Debbie picked up a bottle of red nail polish and shook it. "Hold out your hand," she said, and twisted the cap off.

Pam looked at her math book, open on the bed beside her, and held out her hand. Debbie pulled her closer and rested Pam's hand on her bare knee. She touched the brush to the nail on her pinky finger, painted it quickly, and moved on to the next. The tip of her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth.

"That's a nice color," Pam said. The deep red polish sparkled. "I bet my brother would like it."