I Am Jack's Life Ch. 00-01

"Jack?" she said again, stopping right in front of me.

"Me?" I said, the epitome of wit and class.

She laughed lightly with a sound that should have been accompanied by naked winged sprites sparkling around her and ringing bells.

"Yes, you. You're Jack Wallington right?" she continued.

"Uhm. Yeah." Yup. I was right on track. Sweeping her off her feet any moment.

I blushed. I have no idea why I blushed. She'd just identified me correctly out of a line up, that's all.

She smiled, clearly aware of the effect her presence had on my mental capacity, and perhaps even counting on it. But she didn't verbally acknowledge it.

"Listen, I was wondering if you do any tutoring?"

What is this tutoring word? My brain was running in a continuous loop. Beth-boobs. Beth-boobs. Beth-boobs. Wait, she's waiting for a response. She looks like it should be a yes. I should say yes. Beth-boobs.

"Uhhhh... yes?" I managed to get out.

"Great. I'm stuck taking summer school for Algebra and it's totally going to mess up my eligibility for Cheer next year if I don't pass, so I was wondering..." As she said it, she held her books up against her chest, causing the round, soft objects of my desires to press up and swell outward slightly. I gulped.

She bit her lower lip in the sexiest manner possible while waiting for me to remember how to speak. She was obviously used to this projected aura of gibbering stupid she oozed around her.

"Uhm. Sure. I'm good at algebra." I said. Jack good at math, Beth-boobs.

Her smile could have lit up a small city. "Great, why don't you give me your number and I can call you to set up some dates."

The only words I processed were, "number" and "dates".

I numbly wrote down what I prayed was my home number on a sheet of paper for her. She folded it up and stuffed it in her front jeans pocket. I gulped again as I watched her hand squeeze into her tight pants.

She winked and headed off down the hall. I was left in a stupefied daze. What had just happened? Did I just get a date with Beth Jenkins? No. But... wait. Algebra. Tutoring. I agreed to tutor her in algebra for summer school. I wasn't going to summer school though. No wait! She was! I was tutoring her for her summer school math course. I was going to spend my summer in the company of Beth Jenkins, the hottest girl in our class. Perhaps of any freshman class in the world. Perhaps even in the history of the world.

I grinned like an idiot the rest of the day.

When my friends asked me what was going on I didn't tell them. I was afraid merely speaking it aloud would cause fate to remember such things weren't supposed to happen and my good fortune would unravel. As the week progressed, elation turned to doubt. Had I imagined her flirting? Of course I had. She had just flirted to get my attention. She had no interest in me. Likely as not I was going to end up doing her work for her.

Then doubt turned to fear. Maybe this was a trap. I was going to show up at her place and her very large and scary boyfriend and his goons were going to deposit me in a dumpster. Fear then turned to resentment. Why the fuck did she do this to me? Didn't the popular, good looking kids have enough good things going for them without having to step on us lower social order peons?

And finally, resentment turned into outright anger. Fuck Beth Jenkins and her luscious tits. Fuck her and her boyfriend and his squad of brain dead jocks. I wasn't going to fall for this crap.

By the time the year ended, I refused to even look in her direction when she entered the cafeteria, or the parking lot, or whatever. Beth Jenkins did not exist for me. Assuming the whole thing wasn't a hoax, if she did call me, I was going to tell her to go fuck herself. Totally. I was in command of my life. I would not live in fear of her charm, looks, and undeniably perfect breasts.

Three weeks after the last day of school, I had pretty much forgotten all about the fact the hottest girl in school had asked for my help. So when my phone rang, I was caught unprepared without the elaborate speech I'd devised to disarm her and make her feel terrible for trying to trick me.

"Hello, Wallington residence," I said. My parents were sticklers for phone etiquette.

"Hey Jack, its Beth," a bubbly female voice said on the other end.

"Beth who?"

A light giggle. It was the giggle that brought it all back.

"Beth Jenkins, you said you'd help tutor me over the summer in algebra."

"Forget it Beth, there's no way," I said. It was easy to be stern when I wasn't staring at her. Ha, her aura of afflicting gibbering stupid couldn't reach me over the phone! "I'm not stupid, if you and your friends want to humiliate me, they'll just have to wait until school starts again like everyone else," I continued. Somehow, my voice had become shrill. Not angry. Shrill. Overly defensive, irrationally upset, fearful of rejection, and stupidly agitated. Shrill.

"Forget it Beth," I said again, "There is no way."

I hung up with enough force to rattle the end table our phone sat on.

And that would have been it. That was the cross road of my life. Had it ended there, I have no idea the direction it would have gone. Perhaps I would have continued on as I was; shy and studious. I still probably would have gone to a good college. But there's no way I would have married my wife, or even spoken to her. All of the good things in my life for the next twenty years would vanish in a puff of possibility.

Life is funny. The simplest things are crossroads. Choosing to meet someone for coffee, asking the girl in front of you if she's busy later, having the courage to smile back at the boy in English. Helping someone with their algebra homework. Every moment is followed by another, and every passing moment we can chose to change the next. Our lives are such an impossible tangle of quantum chance, you simply cannot predict what your life will be like in twenty years if you pick up the phone.

My advice. Pick up the phone. Take a chance. Even if she says no, even if he stands you up, you never know where the new road will take you. Frost said it better than anyone when he wrote: "I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference."

Thank God Beth called back. Thank God I answered.

Just, thank God. It changed my life forever.

The phone rang again as I was walking away. I stopped. I didn't want to answer. I didn't want her to yell at me for yelling at her. I didn't want it to be Beth.

But I answered anyway.

"Hello?" I said. I forgot to say the rest.

"Hey..." said the same female voice as before. "Look, I think there's been a mistake," she continued before I could open my mouth again. "I'm not trying to trick you, Jack, I really do need help."

She sighed softly. It was an honest sigh. It caught me off guard.

"Look, I can pay you, okay? I really need help with this stuff. The first class was today and I didn't understand any of it. I don't think I'm stupid but... I dunno, maybe I am. Either way I need your help. I need to pass this class or I won't be eligible for tryouts in August. I'll pay you," she said again.

I paused. She sounded sincere. Moreover, she sounded desperate. Earnest and honest; and as far as she could see, I was her only chance at continuing Cheerleading. Which, I guess was a big deal or something. She was a girl in distress, and I had the opportunity to be her knight in shining mathematical armor.

Fuck, who can say no to that?

"Alright," I sighed. "Alright. I'll help you out, how many weeks is the course?"

"Five. It's five weeks, four days a week," she said.

"Alright. Fifty bucks, five sessions, ten bucks a session and I'll tutor you at the end of each week for a couple of hours. I'm not going to do your homework for you, or your tests or whatever," I said, doing my best to sound authoritative and teacher like.

"No, that's fantastic! Thank you so much Jack," she gushed.

I blushed again. Over the phone. I didn't know why.

"Alright," I said, "How is this Friday?"

"Uhm," she rustled around, looking at a calendar maybe. "Friday is fine, maybe two in the afternoon?"

"That's fine," I replied

"So, uhm, your house or mine?" She asked coyly.

Dammit, I blushed again. Then it occurred to me she probably didn't want to be seen in public with me, and the resentment flooded in again.

"Mine is fine." I gave her my address and brief directions. Hey, this was 1991, no one had GPS and Google maps in their phones yet.

"Great, see you Friday!" she said again, the bubbly voice in place again. The voice that knows no straight male could refuse her.

I sighed. Why the fuck was I doing this again?

Oh yeah. Boobs.

Friday afternoon finally rolled around. I had told my parents of course, that a girl from school was coming over so I could tutor her. I thought my dad was going to give me a high five. Jesus. My mom had responded by cleaning the entire house top to bottom; which included me helping of course, it was my 'guest'. Didn't matter that I told my mom she was paying me for lessons. I had a female guest coming over, you'd have thought I'd announced an engagement.

About ten minutes to two, a car pulled up in the driveway. Yes, I was totally watching the driveway from my room. I could see Beth in the passenger seat, and the driver... was her boyfriend. The only six foot tall freshman guy in our school, probably because he was also the only freshman old enough to drive as well. Todd Smith. Basketball player, wrestler, and depositor of nerds into dumpsters. Oh yeah, I knew Todd; and everyone knew he and Beth were dating, he made sure of that. They kissed and she got out of the car.

Alright, I get it. Show up with your boyfriend and send a message. Tutoring only. Message received, Beth. Message received.

I went out to the living room to open the door. I at least waited for a knock first though.

Opening the door I remembered exactly why I was doing this again.

Her brunette hair was down, with a cute little clip in it on one side, she was wearing a yellow print sundress that clung to her nubile frame in ways that were probably illegal for girls her age, and of course, her cleavage was on display in the most perfect way possible. Gulp.

Right, aura of gibbering stupid. Check.

"Hey Jack," she said brightly.

"Hey Beth," I said. Yay, I remembered her name!

I glanced over her shoulder, Todd was sitting in his car, glaring at me. I waved.

He didn't wave back.

Beth did though, she turned and waved at him, apparently giving him the everything's okay, signal.

"Come on in," I managed to remember to say. I stepped aside. I glanced back at my parents and was inwardly amused, embarrassed, and not a little bit proud. My dad's eyes were wide, openly staring at the teenage goddess that had just crossed our threshold. Embarrassed. Proud. My mother also had one eye raised, but at me, perhaps wondering how her quiet, nerdy, only child had managed to land such divine hotness. Amused, but also embarrassed.

"Mom, Dad, this is Beth, the girl I'm going to be tutoring," I said.

My parents recovered swiftly, and my mother smiled at Beth. "Hello dear, why don't you guys take the kitchen table here?" she said.

"Hello Beth," my dad said. Thankfully that's all he said, because he looked like he wanted to high five me again. Jesus.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Wallington. Thanks for letting Jack tutor me, I'm so lost." she said with a giggle that once again should have been accompanied by faeries with bells.

"Its fine, mom, I'm all set up in my room with my notes and stuff," I said. I did not want to be out here with my Dad ogling Beth and my Mom offering dowry gifts or something.

My mother pursed her lips together and then said, "Alright Jack, but," she said, and I felt color rising to my cheeks, "door open."

Dear God, mother.

Beth just giggled. "That's fine, Jack and I are just friends. And I really do need to study."

Wait, what?

Friends?

"Uhm, right down the hall," I gestured to Beth, and led her to my room.

She waved again at my parents and turned to follow me.

My room was not large, but it wasn't too small, either. In addition to my bed and dresser, I had room for a desk, a couple of bookshelves, and a closet full of comic books. All of the later having just been shoved in there the previous day. No sense cultivating the nerd image. On my bookshelves I had a couple of science fair trophies I'd earned in elementary and middle school, as well as a few reading awards. Okay, maybe a bit nerdy.

Hey, just because I wasn't a jock didn't mean I'd never won anything. Maybe I did want to show them off. God knows the next time I'd have the sexiest fifteen-year-old girl on the planet in my room to show them to.

I'd brought in one of the kitchen chairs to sit next to my desk and held it out for her. She smiled and set her book and notebook down on the desk, then hung her purse on the back of it.

"A gentleman as well as a scholar. Thank you," she said. Her voice had a lilting hint to it I'd never heard before. Wait, was that a flirt? Was she flirting? Fuck, how does one tell?

"Don't mention it." I cleared my throat and sat down in my own chair. "Why don't you show me the notes you have? And then we'll do a couple practice problems to see where you are."

"You got it, Professor. I'm your willing student." There was that tone in her voice again. Jesus Christ, does this girl listen to herself?

To be honest I don't remember too much of that first afternoon. I remember she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I remember watched her. A lot. She'd furrow her eyebrows as she tried to puzzle out what I was saying, or figure out a problem. Her eyes sparkled when the light hit them just right; like - literally fucking sparkled. She had the most amazing laugh I'd ever heard, and I started trying to make her do it whenever I could. I have a pretty decent wit, and somehow I found enough of it to make enough quips to keep her laughing, even when I could sense she was getting frustrated.

Oh also, she was terrible at algebra. Like, hopelessly bad. It'd be laughable if it wasn't so simultaneously sad. She really had no idea what she was doing.

Luckily, I was very good at algebra, and she was a lot smarter than her understanding of mathematics belied, so by the end of the first session, a couple of things were clear. One, I was going to need more than four more sessions to get her through this course. Two, she really was pretty smart, as well as beautiful, sexy, and charming. Three, I was totally in love with her.

The hopeless kind. Without hope. Unsalvageable. She was my sun and I the chloroplast in plants that makes life possible. Yeah. I had it bad.

We ended up meeting three times a week for the next five weeks, and I found out something else. I was actually pretty good at this tutoring stuff. I mean, once I got over her boobs enough to make eye contact on a regular basis (not every time though, let's be realistic), and actually started talking to her, we connected. She understood things the way I explained them, and I began to realize she was more than a walking embodiment of Aphrodite. Oh I still fantasized about her nearly every waking moment, and more than once masturbated to the smell of her perfume that sometimes clung to my bed after she'd been in my room. But I - slowly - began to uncover the personality and mind beneath the boobs.

And I liked those, too.

By the end of the summer, what she'd said that first day really was true. We were friends. Oh, I still lusted after her and nursed the King Kong of all crushes, but we were legitimate friends. We made each other laugh, we hung out after tutoring and talked about movies (she loved going to the movies; she confessed being upset when a guy would ask her to a movie she wanted to see, then want to make out during it), books (which were more my interest than hers, but I got her to read a couple of good ones that summer), and general teenage stuff. We even kept hanging out after she passed her summer course, which earned me not just the fifty bucks, but a hug and a kiss on the cheek as well. Most of it is a blur honestly. I just remember being sort of - giddy, whenever she was around, in more than just a way that had to do with hormonal reaction to her unbelievable body. I was in love.

Or at least, I thought I was. I was infatuated, at least. The first sort of infatuation that confuses you and only barely masks bitter jealousy. I was that too. I got jealous every time she was with Todd, or heard her talk about Todd or other guys she'd dated. Soul-sickeningly jealous, the kind that makes you unable to eat, and feels like everything inside of you is made of acid and bile.

Life was a roller coaster. She was a high, and I inhaled her like cocaine. She was a low, and every part of her that was not with me drowned me in misery.

When the end of summer approached, and a new school year loomed on the horizon, my stomach began churning uncomfortably every time I thought about it.

"What's wrong?" she asked me, just a week before the term started. We were sitting in her living room watching "A Princess Bride". I'd rented it and brought it over to watch with her, since she'd missed it in theaters.

"Huh?" I brought myself out of dark musings and looked up at her.

"You stopped laughing," she grinned. "You said this was your favorite part."

I glanced at the television. Ah yeah, Miracle Max. Good stuff.

"Sorry, just zoned out."

"During Miracle Max? You've only been quoting it all summer," she giggled.

"Sorry," I sighed, "Just thinking about school."

"Ah," was all she said.

"Just worried..." I started to explain.

"That I'm going to pretend I don't know you," she said. This was a new voice. Annoyed? Upset? Hurt?

"Yeah, actually."

"Why would I do that?"

"Uhm, because I'm kind of a nerd and you're..." I struggled for a word that would convey what I meant, without pissing her off.

"Popular?" She said. Yeah. It was definitely hurt.

"Yeah," I sighed lamely.

She studied me for a few moments.

"So what?" she asked after the longest thirty seconds of my life up until that point.

"Huh?" Okay, my wit isn't always on, alright. Sometimes all you got is: "huh".

"So what?" she repeated. "You're right, I am popular. Because I'm pretty. Because I'm a cheerleader."

I blushed, legitimately this time I think.

"You think I don't know people, including you, think I'm pretty?" she asked, there was something new in her voice too. Indignation.

"I didn't... I mean, what's that got to do with it?" I stammered. Brain stopping. Pretty girl I'm in love with angry. Panic. Panic mode.

"You know why else I'm popular? Because I'm not a bitch. I'm not mean to people. I could be. Lots of my friends in Cheer are. Because they can be, because they're pretty and think they can get away with it."

"I never said... I mean, of course you aren't, I..." I struggled to articulate basic words. I was shutting down. Not good.

"I'm not a bitch," she repeated firmly. "So why would you think I'd start being one just because school started?"

"I... I don't know." I looked at the floor. This was it. I'd ruined everything.

"I do," she said and scooted closer to me on the couch.

Never in a million years would I have anticipated what came next. Oh sure, wild fantasies aside, I had imagined kissing her, touching her, even hugging her, in every way, in every location imaginable. When she scooted next to me, I felt her leg touch mine. She was wearing jeans, and so was I, but I still was acutely aware that only millimeters of denim separated her naked flesh from mine.