Spin the Bottle Bk. 01

I say. "Yes, Sir, my Mom was that way too. That's what I liked most about meeting your daughter again. Good night Sir."

I pushed my Honda further to the intersection, put my helmet on, started it, and went home. I found the car still in the driveway; it was not my Aunt's. I went, locked my bike up, and got the sleeping bag from the back porch. I went and lay in the swing built for four people in. I fell asleep, and a few hours later, I was woken by a warm hand in a heavy German accent. "Well, my love, why have you not come in the house, afraid you find out I'm gay?"

I answered. "No, my love wanted to give you two your space."

Giving her a big kiss on the lips and a bear hug, My Aunt laughed in her hearty way I say. "This night was not possible nor believable. I knew that when you taught me how to kiss, my world would change, finding the right one to kiss. My love, thank you for that. You made my night, if not my life. I met her Dad; he stood and thought he put fear in me. I did not flinch; he might call you, but I bet it will be Ginger's Mom."

Well, the school was not as bad; the next day, guys looked on with fear or envy, and the girls all looked at me as if we were kissing at the party again, a combination of fear and desire, not a wrong place to be. So I sat at lunch thinking lousy food and poor company except for Jason when the three walked past the A table, cheerleaders, heroes, and jocks.

They passed the B table, the rich sexy ones' plastic faces and names. They passed the band table, goth, hippies, and youtube influencers. Then they came to me at the hopeless table. You had the rejects. I felt at home why because they said hello they talked to me. That was enough; it was all I needed, even something I told my Mom I would do. I would find and make friends.

My friend Jason and we met at the gym four months ago; he dropped out. He sat beside me and showed me ten pages of his graphic comic book. It was wicked and bloody, near perfect, unlike the creator.

He dressed as he had never washed his hair was ratty; he needed help. I was talking to him about letting my Aunt do his hair. She did mine, and it looked wickedly cool as it was my Aunts hair cut of choice.

My world changed for the better, seeing the ladies coming to my table. I thought of my Mom saying it. "Pull their chairs out; no one has ever done that. Do it now."

Ginger asked. "Can we sit with you, sexy we checked notes, and you rocked our worlds."

I say. "Yes, please do; you rocked my world too. My friend Jason; has talent; his blood and sex comic book is to die for. Jason show it to Ann please. I think she will dig it."

As I pulled their chairs out and they joined me, Ann went to the side Jason was on. I smiled and nodded to Ann's chair. He was up before she got there; he pulled her chair out. We ate and looked at the book and talked about life at school.

Ginger says. "We can't have you over to our place to study like the other night yet, but do you have a place for us three to join you to err you know study?" As you winked at me.

I say. "I do, but I will say this nothing in your life will prepare you for my Aunt Diana; she's six foot four, two hundred pounds, with purple, green, blue, or pink hair. Her hugs are to die for. So if she is on your side, have no fear of anyone or anything; she might be gay but won't say it as it's not something she puts names on things, and she loves me and took me in after it happened."

I started to tear up and finish my statement about what happened when the football team captain came over—whinnying about losing all the women to the artsy fartsy types.

I looked at Ginger and say. "I don't think hunk boy here would last past thirty minutes of one of my workouts now. Do you want to do that challenge, or would you rather spar at a gym? My Mom won't let me fight?"

I picked up the dull metal knife we used in the lunchroom. I tested this trick a few days ago I knew it would work. Mom taught me how to test and prepare how to practice. I pushed the knife into the top above my chest, looking at the football dude right in his eyes. I tighten up, and with both hands, I grunted for power saying. "Ginger!" It pushed the knife into my chest till it bent into a U and did not break the skin.

I tossed Ginger's knife to him and say. "Fight or keep up with me for thirty minutes; either way, gym for me is after lunch."

Ginger looks at the knife, as does most of the table.

The jock says. "I'm not afraid of you bitch."

I bend my lunch knife against my head at my temple as it bends.

I say. "It's not about fear that can't touch me."

I took the bent knife and gripped it in both hands. I used napkins encase the metal snapped and went flying off. I grunted Ginger's name for added power, and the knife was in three pieces.

Ann takes Jason's lunch knife and hands it to the jock, and says. "Show us, stud show us."

He went to raise his hand to slap the knife out of Ann's hand. I jumped up and was up on my knees at the top of the table. I had the football Captains arm in my hand. I knew it was hurting him; he had fear on his face.

I say. "Not here, not within my reach. Never again fight off the school ground now or the gym. Choose wisely; one will have your football world come to an end. Now who here has been struck by a man? Write his name on a piece of paper and put it in my locker; this ends here."

I was called into the office, and they said no fighting do the workout thing. I wondered who had told him but didn't care. I thought the guy was not all bad; he was thrown into the spot-lite. He needs to gain the skills past football; the team did not go to the state playoffs for three years, same team his Dad had a job for him after football. So I went to the weight room after lunch. I warmed up, benched pressed a few to warm up I Started one hundred one-hand push-ups. He got there and was twenty behind me that did it; he never caught up.

I went full-on nuts fifty push-ups switched from one hand and one leg; one leg would not be on the ground—fifty of two hundred and fifty in weights. Bench pressed and at speed. I free-lifted three hundred pounds. I started kicking, jumping my leg, and back flipping. I notice a large crowd of kids watching us. I see Ginger and her friends; I thought they were taking bets. I did ten flips forward and twenty backward. I asked for a drink of water. Ginger walked out in that dumb gym outfit and towel for my head as I drank the bottle but only half. You stay close to me. I smell you again. I boxed the heavy bag and asked for someone to back it. My hits sounded like thunder; the guy holding it asked to quit. The coach stood in.

I say. "Never quit."

The kid went back and took the coach off the bag. I started side kicks, and the football captain still worked on the flips.

I did four hits, two legs, and fist and leg combos thirty times. I picked up two hundred pounds, held it over my head, and left it there. I asked for a timer.

I say. "You quit, you louse never quit, not try to fail, do better, fall, pick yourself up and try again. Never stay home in pain! Fight till the end or victory. My record is twenty-five. Ginger picks out forty pounds with two twenties and holds them over your head. Your face shows the burn you are feeling right now. I see every weight in the room being used.

I say. "That burn is your body trying to get you to quit; it's to get you to save some for your end. You do that, and you will louse never quit. Over the next ten minutes, no one slacked some. They failed and lifted the weights again. Ginger cracked at eighteen. I put my weight down, got in your face Screamed at you. "Use your breath as added force; don't you wimp out on your self scream at the wind!"

The screams filled the room; the gym was not connected to the rest of the school to keep the noise down.

I went to everyone's faces and screamed. "To hold on; you won't believe what you can do if you won't quit."

The class did twenty minutes. To shouts of Holy crap, what a rush to see them stop us now.

I went over to the captain and say. "It's over thirty; why don't you come over here? Your center of gravity is way off. Go put your pads on. I let you try to hit me."

I see Ginger watching me as you rub your arms. I come over you give me a full bottle of water as I rub your arms.

I say. "I have to say that was the single sexiest thing I have ever seen you picking up these weights, I'm proud of you, but you have to be proud of yourself. Did you do this to get your hooks into me, Ginger?"

Your smile said it all; my Mom had that same smile. You covered your mouth and giggled, looking at me; you had no poker face. But, unfortunately, were at school and public displays of affection can get you detention.

I showed many players how to watch their center line and see it as they run. I got the front line to line up and changed how they stood. It was all wrong one coach thought I was full of it. I had their star lineup on me. I saw where to hit him and how to shift my weight to make him hit a brick wall. He bounced off of me. I felt terrible for the kid.

I went to a minor player, set his stance, and showed him on me to watch my core, look at my feet or top, how to follow moving with the blow, not against it. In ten minutes, I will show you how to find your center. The smallest blocked the biggest and stopped him, but you put him on the ground.

Ginger says. "Got to book Dan; see you soon; love, take me home after the last class, please."

I nodded a yes at you. So I spent the next two hours teaching forty boys how to move and not take a blow but to give one. The coach sent notes to my teachers they had a few days left for the team before the next game was near the halfway point of the season; so far, it was 0 for five with seven left in the season, the last chance if they got in they had to win all seven.

The bell rang, and I ran, showered, and changed; seeing Ginger sitting on my bike as I came out, you looked so young and proud of yourself, a newly added confidence. I came out to catcalls.

Ginger says. "Watch how you kiss them, bub. I'm marking my territory today now. I don't know how I feel about sharing, but I'll let you know."

I say. "How could it be anything else, dear you let me know."

I kissed both girls, letting them decide if they wanted lips or cheeks; it was one of each.

Ginger says. "I hear Jason is getting his hair done at your Aunts. So we will all be there; sounds fun."

Ann says. "How did you know, Dan? We clicked; we talked all study hall." Ann kissed me on my cheek.

Lisa says. "Well, what about me?"

I say. "We need to talk first and not in a group. Can I see you a second, dear?"

Lisa grabbed my arm and walked me to her car; we were alone.

I say. "I'm not sure how to start, Hon. I know you're at least bi, but you are in love with Ginger. Oh, I'm so sorry. I did not plan on falling like Romeo and Juliet with her. Have you told her? Do you want me to? You were great in bed, but you missed a sparkle. I saw it happen; it was caused by Ginger touching your breast. I will not breathe a word. It would be best if you told Ginger, and whatever happens, know that she cares about you. I'm sorry we two clicked hard just talking."

I started to kiss you but patted your hand, I say. "Ginger might kill me for a kiss, but I'm here for a hug."

I took Ginger to her home, and we studied at the kitchen table; her Mom kept wanting to hate me. Nobody was good enough for her daughter, much less one she's known for a few days.

I see her Mom put out the ground beef, a bag of pasta, and the enormous bag of cheese I have ever seen. It might have been a bad day the way she snapped at me.

I say. "Mam, have you ever added a can of chili to it and called it chili-mac?"

Well, you must have thought it a sin, you huffed and say. "If you can do better, do it then, mister. Let's see you mess it up then."

And you sat next to Ginny, who says. "Don't count on it, Mom. I'm never betting against him."

I went to the sink and washed the breakfast dishes loading them in the dishwasher, giving me a clean place to start. I asked for help as I needed to find out where anything was. I listed what I needed, and Ginger got it out; her hands would touch me occasionally. Finally, I had everything placed out. Mom had that mean look that would cut glass. I started the oil and added spices to the oil. The meat was added in batches to the skillet on the fire, browning it; I took it out and soaked it on paper towels.

Browned some bell peppers and onions with a lot of spices, I asked if they had red wine, and Ginger's Dad came in with a bottle of red wine. Mom and Dad had some; they had looks but no words. I sang a song that was not great, but Ginger joined in; it made my nerves go away. I could stand up to skinheads, but Moms scare me. So I splashed red wine into the pan and scrapped off the pan, and got the sticky on the bottom up as Ginger found music on her phone we could sing to. She found some that her Mom and Dad joined us.

I added chicken stock, meat, and spices, brought it to a boil, set the timer, added pasta, and grabbed Ginger's hand; we stepped outside. The stars started to come out then the city lights would wash it all away. We kissed for five minutes, going back into warm smiles. I added the chill and started a loaf of French bread to bake sweet butter-toasted garlic with sugar and spices.

I asked if they liked their toast light or dark it was a mixed answer. So I took half the lightly toasted bread and added the cheese to the chill. I found fresh parmesan cheese and, ground some up, added it to the bread.

I say. "Who wants to be a victim?"

Ginger stood, took what was offered, your moan was great praise, and you took the toast out of the oven; I see you had bottled water. "That would be great water for me to please, but trust me, you won't have to worry about leftovers."

I stopped a second at the table, closed my eyes, and I say. "I love you, Mom; thank you for giving me life." No words before dinner. I've been to church. I never need to go again ever, but we have yet to discuss this. We ate it was hard to speak it was so good the words of praise came.

Mom gave it up and says. "This is good; there is so much less grease and cheese, but the flavor is so good. You have done well, Danny Boy."

I spoke my thank you. I wanted to cry. I felt Ginger's hand on my arm and a look that says. You got things to tell me, mister.

Dad says. "It saddens Dan as that's what his Mom called him before she died of cancer."

I did not want to be here, but here I was; Ginger's hand grounded me. I started talking. "I was bullied at school; my hair was light red until I hit puberty Mom thought it would be a great Halloween to dye my hair bright red. Then it grew out brown that you see now. Red-headed kids were the spawn of the devil; that's what the preacher's two sons and daughter said as they did this to me."

I show my scars on my wrists where they hung me by my wrist on a cross. "I screamed for help; their Dad came in and found me screaming in a church made from a barn."

I did not point out the scars covered by my tattoos as I mastered a fighting style on my back, even though Ginger was too busy at the time to study my back; I had to tell her.

I drank water; it felt good to be held almost in my lap. Ginger was like my rock; I gained strength just beside her.

I say. "I thought he would cut me down, but he beat me with his cane instead. Whips were used for three days before police Swat teams breached the church. I endured hours of the vilest abuse, no sorry, not a story for the dinner table. Mom cared for me after they sent me home from the hospital. It took me six months to start working out; the pain was not stopping. Some days if it's cold out, even now, I hurt. My Mom did everything for me for six months; embarrassing but livable; no boy wants to be helpless like that not with his Mom. Mom home schooled me after getting better. She moved us to Germany to be near her Sister. Kids nowadays get less than forty-five minutes a subject a day if they have a good teacher; we had two-hour classes on one subject, sometimes even longer. We went on a field trip a week, most often after a therapy visit that did not go too well. They were not all roses and champagne. Some were worse than others. The rest of my week was hours of martial arts training; it helped with the night sweats and the fear of being jumped. I get them still sometimes when I'm too stressed, like making dinner for my girlfriend's folks." I did wink with a smile on my face.