Cheerleader Squad Ch. 03

Well, huh, I thought, as I watched him walk off. This was gonna be harder than I thought. Was I getting in over my head? Disappointed, I headed back to the clubhouse.

Back inside, things were heating up. As Coach Saxon had predicted, Emma hadn't lasted long on the soda and now had a bottle of beer open in her hand.

"That didn't last long, Emma," I said, pointing at the beer bottle in her hand. "What happened to only wanting soda?"

"This is a party, Ange," she replied, flashing me a glare. "You know -- fun? Happiness? Good times? Stuff like that?"

"Hmph. I see," I said. I sat down next to her, grabbed my soda and tried to enjoy the vibe. After a few minutes back with the other girls and the guys, I began to feel a little looser, and started to relax. My mood brightened somewhat and my disappointment with how things went with Coach Saxon began to take a backseat in my mind.

Within another half-hour, the alcohol began to have its intended effects on its imbibers, and there was a lot of laughing and joking from the guys, and squealing and running around from the girls, as cool music played and everyone goofed off. It was great fun, and I decided that maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

At about 9pm, people chilled out big time and began sitting around on the sofa and the floor, telling stories, and dividing off into couples to have deep, quiet conversations.

Emma and I stood around viewing the scene.

"Man, it's still only 9:30," remarked Emma. "To think, most parties don't even start until eleven. The way everyone's behaving, you'd think it was 2:00am already."

"It's the Coach Saxon Effect," I smirked. "Better known as 'Coach-will-chew-me-out-and-kick-me-off-the-team Syndrome."

"The guy has an effect on people even when he's not here," she smiled.

I'll say, I thought.

Soon, Caroline was getting hot and heavy with Martin, and they were back on the sofa. Daphne had also chosen someone, and Becky another. Emma was talking to Cameron, who looked a little worse for wear. I was still on the soda, although the bottle was nearly empty.

Desire began to take over, and make-out sessions began, with Becky really going for it, Caroline in an advanced state of undress and Daphne pawing at Mark. Emma was still deep in a convo with Cameron.

Suddenly I heard a bang as Cameron's chair hit the floor. The big quarterback fell heavily sideways, and I saw his head hit the countertop behind the table before he slumped to the floor.

Emma screamed, and there was a confused mass of shouting and consternation. I rushed forward and held his head in my hands. He was out cold.

"Nooooo!" screamed Emma. "CAMERON!"

I held up a hand to her. "What just happened?"

"He just leaned back a little and fell down!" she cried.

Becky knelt down beside him, frantic. "Is it bad?"

"I don't know!" I answered.

John and Brad began shouting at him. "Cam, man! Wake up!" yelled John.

"Dude, get up!" cried Brad.

"He's out cold!" I shouted.

We tried shaking him a little and seeing if he would revive, but it quickly became obvious that he was gonna be like this for a while.

"What are we gonna do?" wailed Becky.

"How many beers did he have?" asked John.

"I don't know -- maybe four or five," replied Emma.

"Quick, we need to get him to hospital," I declared.

"HOSPITAL?" cried Caroline. "Is it that bad?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" I yelled at her, angrily. "We can't just leave him there, though!"

"He might get up in a few minutes," remarked Brad.

I turned to him, annoyed. "What if he doesn't? What if it's really serious and we're wasting time?"

"If we call an ambulance, he might wake up on the way!" cried Emma.

"Well, so what? He'll be better in that case! If not, then he'll get the treatment he needs! Let's go!" I answered. "I'll call 911!"

I did so, and asked for an ambulance to come. Some anguished minutes passed as we waited for the vehicle to arrive. While we were waiting, I got the others to clean up the clubhouse, move some furniture around to facilitate access for the paramedics, and organized what we were going to do afterwards.

"Girls, when the paramedics arrive, go back to the dorm," I ordered.

"What about you?" asked Becky.

"I don't know yet -- maybe I'll grab a taxi to the hospital to make sure he's OK."

"Right," said Caroline.

"Guys, the party's over," I said to the boys. "Once Cam's in the ambulance, let's go home."

Brad looked at me. "Yeah, OK -- that sounds like a good idea."

The other guys murmured in agreement.

I heard a vehicle approach and I went to look out the window. Sure enough, there was the incongruous sight of an ambulance making its way along the sports track beside the football field. I flung open the door of the clubhouse and went outside, waving madly at the ambulance. It sped up slightly as it approached, then halted just outside. Paramedics jumped out of the back carrying a stretcher.

"Where's the patient?" cried the one in the lead.

"In here!" I answered, hurriedly.

They went inside and I saw them heave the heavy quarterback onto the stretcher. After some effort, they transferred hi to a metal bed trolley on wheels, before sliding him into the back of the ambulance.

"Do I need to go with him?" I asked one of them.

"Are you a member of his family?" he asked.

"Er, no," I replied, sheepishly.

"Then no," he replied. "Have his family been notified?"

"No, not yet."

"Who's in charge here?"

"The coach, but he went home."

"Get him to call the family -- he'll probably have the details." With that, he jumped in the ambulance and they drove off.

Right. Back in the clubhouse, I asked the guys for Coach Saxon's number. Dialing it, I heard the deep voice of Jake come on the line.

"Yeah, John, what's up?"

"Coach, this is Angela using John's phone," I replied. "Cameron's fallen over and knocked himself out."

"WHAT!"

"He was out cold, so I called an ambulance and he's on his way to hospital already."

"What on earth!"

"Coach, the paramedic asked me to call you so that you could contact his family to tell them what happened."

"Oh, yeah? OK, right -- I'll get on it. Wait -- I don't have any details about it to tell them."

"The paramedics can fill you in."

"Yeah, I'd better get over to the hospital."

"OK, that would be great."

Jake paused. "Er, Angela? I'll need a sitrep from you, too -- can you meet me at the hospital?"

"I'll have to get a taxi."

"It's OK, I'll pay."

"No, it's fine, I'll do it. Can you make it in half an hour?"

"Yeah, sure -- I'll drive over."

"Cool -- see you then." I snapped off the phone, then gave it back to John. Turning to the others, I said, "Guys, Coach is on the way to the hospital. He needs me to go there to tell him what happened."

"Shouldn't I go?" asked Emma. "I was the one sitting with Cameron."

I frowned. "Hmm, maybe -- are you gonna be able to handle it, though -- seeing Cameron in a hospital bed, and doctors and nurses all around him and stuff, or are you gonna freak out? I don't want any more drama!"

Emma hesitated. "Er, actually -- sorry, but I'm a bit afraid of hospitals -- I think -"

"Right, then I'll go -- I saw enough of what happened. Go and take the girls back to the dorm. Boys -- disperse. Cam's gonna be OK -- he's in good hands -- I just need to tell Coach what happened. Girls -- I'll be back in maybe an hour or more."

"No probs," remarked Caroline.

Soon after that, I was calling a taxi. Stepping outside the stadium, it drew up after an anxious twenty minutes of waiting. "Where have you been?" I demanded of the driver.

"Sorry, traffic," he replied.

I gave him directions and we headed off. Another fifteen minutes saw me getting out, paying the fare, and heading into the hospital foyer.

"I'm here to see Cameron Bennett, who just came into ER," I told the receptionist. She told me which floor to head for, then I took the elevator to the fifth.

After some hunting around, I found him. Rushing in, I saw Coach Saxon at his bedside, who looked up as I entered.

"Angela!" said Coach.

I slowed up as I arrived bedside. "Hi, Coach." I looked at Cameron, who was still out cold. "Sorry I couldn't come in the half-hour I mentioned. The taxi took ages to show up."

"No problem," said Jake. "I've spoken to the doctor, who's taken an X-ray. There's no serious harm done, although he's concussed somewhat. Once he comes round, he should be OK."

I looked at him. "What about his family?"

"Tell me real quick what happened."

So I filled him in on the details, before he phoned the parents to tell them what had transpired. They were frantic with worry, it seemed, and would immediately drop everything to come to the hospital to see him.

Jake snapped off his phone. "Well, that's that."

I was worried. "Coach, what about you? Aren't you gonna get in trouble with his family? They could sue the university or you -- anything! Who are they gonna hold responsible?"

Jake reassured me, but I could see he was worried. "I need to see the doc," he remarked.

When the doctor showed up, Jake discussed liability and a copy of the hospital records on what happened. Just as they were finishing up, the parents and a couple of younger teenagers burst in.

"Cameron!" said the woman, who was presumably his mother. The four of them rushed to Cam's bedside, stressed and worried, and it took the doctor some time to calm everyone down. Then he showed them the X-ray results, which reassured them a good deal. They related how Cam had suffered a minor head injury as a kid and had been told not to drink too much alcohol, but that he had refused to listen, taking up American football, despite its reputation for head injuries. After many protestations, his mother had relented, provided he promised that he would always wear the protective headgear and padding, which he had done. However, she hadn't been able to control his drinking, since he used it as a crutch to get over his shyness with girls.

Coach Saxon was mighty relieved to hear this, since he was worried about a lawsuit. It turned out that Cam's family were pretty nice, once everyone had calmed down and we had had time to chat things over.

The doctor strolled back in. "Sorry, but visiting hours are over," he said. "You're welcome to come back tomorrow, everyone. Hours start at 8am."

The six of us walked out of the ward, leaving Cam with the doctor and his nurses. After saying goodbye to Cameron's family, who were very grateful towards me and understanding towards Coach Saxon, the two of us took the elevator down to the lobby.

"Thanks for everything, Angela," Coach Saxon smiled. "You were great."

I gave him a smile. "No problem. See you tomorrow."

He looked surprised. "Tomorrow?"

"Aren't you coming back here to check on Cameron?"

"Well, yeah -- I was figuring to drop by mid-morning. I think his family will want some alone time with him first thing, before anybody else shows up."

"Good idea."

"Look -- you don't have to bother coming. You've done your bit. I'm responsible for the team. I can take it from here. Assuming Cameron's fine like the doc said, you'll see him again at practice, won't you?"

I looked at him. "Maybe. Maybe not. I think he'll probably be OK. But being responsible for the team? That's what I've been tonight."

He looked apologetic. "I know." He paused. "Thanks a lot."

I raised one eyebrow. "So I'm not as kooky a girl as you thought, right?"

He smirked. "Right."

"Furthermore, I'm an adult woman who can take care of herself -- and others she cares about."

"Yes, for sure."

"Right. So treat me as an adult woman and I'll reward you like one." I winked at him, then turned to leave. "Think about it." I walked away.

That night I lay in bed back at the dorm, thinking. Would this change things?

The next day, I called him at around nine. "Coach?"

"Oh, hi, Angela."

"Have you been around to the hospital yet?"

"No, not yet."

"What are you planning to bring?"

"Bring?"

"Yeah, bring."

"Like what?"

"A present or something."

"Oh, I hadn't thought about that."

"What -- you were just planning to show up with nothing?"

"Well, I thought it was important to show my face, meet Cameron, and make sure the parents are doing OK."

"Well, yeah, but maybe some flowers might be nice."

"Oh, OK. Any ideas?"

"I know a great florist in town. Care to swing by there?"

"Sure." He hesitated. "Er, I don't know much about buying flowers. What kind of things? Chrysanthemums? Roses?"

"Let me handle it."

"What? How?"

"Meet me outside the stadium in thirty. We'll go together."

There was a short silence. "OK," he decided.

So there I was, standing outside the stadium at 9:30am, as Coach Saxon's car pulled up.

The big, burly football coach grinned at me through the front window. "Get in!"

I smiled and opened the door to the passenger seat. He drove off and I gave him directions to the florist's.

Once there, we got out and spent time choosing a bouquet, using my woman's intuition as to what would be appropriate. I chose a beautiful array of flowers, which Jake paid for. I had seen him out of the corner of my eye as I had been making my choices of what flowers to include, and he seemed to approve of my woman's ways. With a smirk on my face, we headed back to the car.

Once inside, I said, "Right, let's head for the hospital."

"Wait," he remarked. "It's getting kind of windy outside. Would you mind if I head home real quick to pick up a jacket?"

"Er, yeah, sure," I replied. Hmm, what was going on?

He drove back to his own place, during which time I watched him change the gears of his stick-shift car with an assuredness I hadn't noticed before, his flinty gray eyes set on the road.

There it was again, that sense of certain masculinity that set my heart racing, making me feel both safe and excited at the same time, in a way that was intoxicating.

We arrived at an apartment building some five stories tall.

"I'm on the third floor," he said.

"I'll wait for you here," I announced.

"No, it's fine, come on up for a sec. It's no big deal."

"Oh, well -"

"It's no problem, honest. There's an elevator. Let's go."

"Well, OK."

He got out of the driver's seat and came around to the passenger side to let me out. Feeling taken care of, I followed him into the nearby elevator and he pressed the '3' button. Up we went.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Since June."

"How can you afford it?"

"My parents meet me halfway on the rent."

"Uh-huh. So not so independent compared to us girls in our dorm, huh?" I smiled.

He smirked. "I'm working on it. Still, it's a step up from a dorm."

"Right." I was relieved to hear that.

We arrived at his front door. Producing the key, he opened it and we went inside. I saw a neatly-kept small apartment.

"All right, so this is the living room," he said. It was bright and airy, with a flatscreen TV, modern sofa and armchairs, with some bookshelves on the wall. In the kitchen, I saw clean surfaces, dishes washed and stacked to dry off, a new-looking refrigerator and a washing machine.

"This is the bedroom," he announced, matter-of-factly. "I'll just grab my jacket in the closet."

"Sure," I said, eyeing the queen-size double bed, with quilted spread, a nice big window overlooking the street below, beautiful curtains and carpet on the floor. Nice.

"Right, let's go," he said. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

By an amazing coincidence, as a matter of fact, I did. "Er, yeah. I'll be right out," I said.

I entered and saw plush carpeting, a spotless toilet and shower, plus a washbasin with shaving cream, cologne and a new pack of wet-shave razors. In the shower cubicle, there was gel, shampoo, plus a deodorant roll-on. Clean, fluffy towels hung on a rack. I used the aforementioned toilet, and saw plenty of toilet tissue on the holder. Hmm.

I came out and smiled. "OK, I'm ready," I said, brightly.

"Is everything OK?"

"Yes, everything's fine."

"Great. Let's go."

Ten minutes later, we rolled up outside the hospital.

Entering Cameron's ward, we saw his family crowded around the bed, with Cameron sitting up, looking a lot better.

"Cam!" I cried, as I walked in. I rushed up to him, with Coach Saxon close behind me.

"Angela! Coach!" he said. "Am I happy to see you!"

His family looked pleased to see us, too, thankfully, and I quickly presented the bouquet of flowers to them, which they were delighted to receive.

"Oh, that's really nice," said Cam's mother, who immediately stood up and hunted around for a suitable container to put them beside Cam's bed.

We chatted with them for around half an hour, and Cam, who had been told what had happened the night before, was exceedingly grateful.

"Thanks, Angela, for everything you did. I feel really bad for collapsing like that."

"I heard that your parents told you not to drink, Cameron," said Coach.

He looked sheepish. "Er, yeah -- I guess I'm gonna have to recalibrate what I thought I was able to get away with."

"You'll get away with nothing," said his dad, pointedly. "The fact is, if it wasn't for Angela, you could still be lying on the floor in the clubhouse."

"Dead, more like," said his sister.

"It's no problem," I replied, with a smile. "I was glad to help. Coach came to the hospital after I called him, and he contacted your parents, who came over."

"I know," said Cam. He looked at Coach. "Thanks, Coach."

"All right," I said. I decided to wrap it up. "OK, everyone, well, Coach and I just wanted to show up to check on Cam and make sure everyone was doing OK, so we'll leave you alone to be together."

"Yeah, that's right," said Coach. "I hope to see you back on your feet soon, Cameron. Folks, see you around."

"Sure," said Cam's dad.

Outside the hospital, Coach looked at me. "Well, that was that. What do we do now?"

"I'm hungry."

"Do you wanna go somewhere for lunch?"

"Got any food in that refrigerator I saw?"

"You wanna eat at my place?" he asked, with a smirk.

I grinned back at him. "Sure. Why not?"

Back in his apartment, he slammed me up against the living room wall, kissing me deeply on my mouth, my eyes closing to drink in his desire, his hands exploring my body. He was hot, urgent, and desiring, and I acquiesced to my lover.

He grabbed my top and ripped it off, exposing my hard, toned abdomen and bra-clad 34C breasts. He kissed my upper breasts, burying his face in my cleavage.

I moaned, sensing his masculinity. I had been waiting for this for so long, and now I had Jake Saxon all to myself, in the privacy of his own apartment. I had proven myself, and this had ignited his desire for me. No longer was I some bratty, kooky cheerleader; now I was a grown woman of eighteen, and I was gonna have my man.

I reached behind to unclip my bra, and I lifted the cups from my breasts. He groaned as his big hands enclosed one of them, squeezing so that the areola and nipple pointed, the nub filling with desire and hardening. I felt incredibly wanton as he breathed hot air on them, then licked in circles around the nipple. I inhaled sharply as an exquisite tingle of pleasure made itself felt, before he opened his mouth wide to engulf the nub, his tongue lashing quickly to and fro across the very tip of the nipple, forcing me to moan out loud.

I was in a hurry, and pulled down my tracksuit pants, guiding one of his hands to my panty-clad pussy. He fondled and stroked up and down with his fingers, forcing me to moan again. I felt a dampness below as my pussy began to lubricate, and I felt it lengthening inside as his mouth moved onto my other breast.

Now with one hand on the first breast and the other on my pussy, Jake continued to arouse me...until I couldn't take it any more. I peeled off my panties, which were now really wet, and pulled them down my thighs.