Stupid Boy: Senior Year - Winter 25

Chapter 25 -- Decision Made

Friday January 13

Uncle John and I bailed on everyone and went to breakfast together. I received a text from Manaia that promised serious harm if I didn't tell him where we went, so I did. He came in once we'd received our drinks, but before we ordered.

"Nice," he complained.

"He just wants me to feed him," I told Uncle John.

"There're still bagels at the house," Manaia pointed out.

"Do you two bicker like this all the time?" Uncle John asked.

We looked at each other and laughed.

"When we first met, we didn't like each other," Manaia explained. "Now, I treat him like a little brother who I have to babysit all the time."

I let that one go ... for now.

"Normally, he's much better behaved," I told my uncle.

Uncle John just ignored our little spat. Manaia was just pissed because I ditched him. Granted, I hadn't tried to pull that with him to this point. From the whining I heard from Chuck and Paul, I was aware that Fritz took a dim view of them losing me.

Manaia was a fairly new hire and was still on probation. I was sure he would be looking for work if something happened to me because I slipped away.

"Your dad and I have done some research on the decisions you have to make. Can we agree that you, at the very least, plan to play football and go to college?" Uncle John asked.

"Yes. I talked to the guys, and they're strongly leaning towards Michigan. Of the three schools, they have the best baseball team, too," I said.

"Which schools are you considering?" Manaia asked.

"Michigan, Oklahoma, and USC," I said.

"We talked to several coaches to determine how valuable a quarterback is to an NFL franchise. We wanted to get a better idea of whether quarterback is your best position. The reason we asked was that coaches told us that you might be even more successful on the defensive side of the ball," Uncle John said.

While the logical side of me already knew that my best position was quarterback, the caveman in me would love to play defense.

"The NFL has been trending towards offense," Uncle John continued. "Of the thirty-two NFL teams, half pass the ball at least sixty percent of the time. Bud Mason told us that four positions are most valuable in today's game. Those are the tackle that protects the blind side of the quarterback, the quarterback, any player who can sack the quarterback, and a shutdown corner.

"Obviously, you can't play tackle, and, according to Bud, he thinks you don't have the speed needed for cornerback at that level. He did say that you would make an ideal stand-up defensive end or linebacker."

"Why did you ask about all this? I'm sure Bud told you I should play quarterback," I said.

"He did, but we wanted to cover all your options," Uncle John explained.

It sounded like they had been busy behind the scenes working on this. This told me that my dad and uncle had taken my request for help in solving this predicament seriously.

"Let me point out some interesting stats that Bo Harrington dug up for us. Of the 192 first-round draft picks in the last six years, only 19 were quarterbacks. Compare that to 36 defensive ends and 33 linebackers. That works out to an average of just 3 quarterbacks taken in the first round each year. When you figure there are 236 Division I football teams, the odds of making it into the NFL as a first-round pick are slim," Uncle John said.

The numbers were sobering. They'd told me that the chances were slim that I would emerge at the top of the college game by the time I graduated. A multitude of things could happen to derail your ascent to the highest levels. I guess I didn't understand how long those odds were until he'd pointed out the cold facts. I'd assumed that because I was the number one overall prospect, I would simply continue on that path when I got to college. Uncle John made me want to rethink whether I should lean so heavily on football moving forward.

"When we heard the stats, we were a little worried. Then we talked to other coaches," Uncle John continued. "To a man, they felt that even if you weren't drafted in the first round, you would make it into the league and play. Some paths would be easier, though."

"What did you find out?" I asked.

"Michigan might be the hardest of the three schools you've selected in terms of having their quarterback drafted. USC has the most recent success at getting a quarterback to the NFL. They told us they feel that Oklahoma might be the best place for you to go to highlight your skill set. They explained to me that Michigan is in one of the toughest divisions in college football as far as defenses go, unlike the other two. USC is rebuilding and is a few years away from competing for the championship, even though your friend Ridge Townsend will be a first-rounder next year. Oklahoma plays in the Big 12, where offense is king.

"Bo Harrington predicted that if you were to go to Oklahoma, you would have a great chance to win the Heisman as the best college football player. While you might not win the national championship, it would put you on the path to a long career in the NFL," Uncle John said.

I agreed with his assessment. It was pretty much what I'd figured out.

"Michigan has the edge in baseball," I said again to attempt to justify my pick.

"And USC would be the best for your acting," Uncle John added to give me a hard time.

I let a little smile touch my lips. They had done a thorough job if Uncle John knew which was best for acting and baseball.

"So, where do you and Dad think I should go?" I asked.

"We ranked them, Oklahoma, Michigan, and USC, strictly on football. If you consider other factors, we have Michigan edging out Oklahoma by a nose. Being here for a week, I might switch to USC for the weather alone," Uncle John admitted.

"What were the other factors you looked at?" I asked.

"Quality of education, proximity to home, baseball, and several others. I think your dad created a spreadsheet with almost forty items on it. In the end, we think any of the three would work. We just felt that Michigan checked a few more boxes off your list than the rest. Your dad also said they were recruiting you the hardest. So, in the end, they want you the most."

Michigan didn't solve my biggest dilemma: my kids. The problem was that none of them did. It made me realize that obtaining my pilot's license was more important than ever. With it, I could make a day trip if needed. Thankfully, college wasn't forever.

I'd had several months to get used to the idea of going to Michigan. Frankly, if their offensive coordinator hadn't been a jerk during the summer, I might have committed at their camp. I felt confident in my decision, knowing that the two men I trusted most for advice had agreed with me.

"I'm going to Michigan," I said to put an end to this.

---

Before I made it official, I called Wolf and Tim. They were over-the-moon excited. Our fellow teammate, Ty Wilson, and now fellow Michigan commit, took full credit for talking us around and into joining him. I had Wolf and Tim talk to their parents to make sure they were on board while I called mine. Now that I'd decided, I wanted to put this to bed.

While that went on, I made calls to Coach Mason, Coach Harrington, Coach Styles, and Coach Hope, for two reasons. I wanted to thank them for all their help and to share my decision with them. Coach Harrington had news.

"I wanted to let you know that I'm leaving Alabama. I'll be announced as the new head coach for Western Michigan in the next few days. If you wait to announce, I might have some open scholarships for you and the boys."

"Ah ... no," I said to shoot that idea down.

I wished him luck. One benefit of his new job was that he would be reasonably close to the University of Michigan; Western Michigan was about a two-hour drive. Since I'd been in LA, that didn't seem quite so far.

Coach Styles had been the first to offer me when I visited Kentucky during my freshman year. He'd also been a straight shooter.

"I'm disappointed in the news. The silver lining is that you didn't pick Alabama. I would hate to have to play against you."

While Kentucky and Alabama were both in the SEC, they were in different divisions. That meant that they didn't play head-to-head every year.

"I didn't see myself fitting into their system," I shared.

"I think your choice of Michigan is a good one. With you under center, I predict that the balance of power in the Big 10 is about to change. You're the missing piece for them offensively. If that happens, then Michigan will be in line to pick up one of the four slots in the national championship playoff each year. The other two schools seem to be hit-or-miss as to whether a member of their conference can get in," Coach Styles said.

"Thanks, Coach. I wanted to tell you what it meant to me that Kentucky offered me first. I see that you've got the program headed in the right direction."

Both Coach Hope and Coach Mason's calls were short. We'd already talked about my options, and they were on board with the decision.

---

"Michigan Athletic Department, how may I direct your call?"

"Coach Haber. Please tell him that David Dawson is calling," I said, and then she put me on hold.

I listened to the Michigan fight song play as I waited. I'd tried Coach Haber's cell, but it had gone to voicemail. I suspected it was being charged because he always took my call.

"David, Coach Hightower. We're in a meeting with all the coaches right now. Would it be possible for Coach Haber to call you later?"

"He'll want to take this call," I said.

"Good news?"

"Depends," I said, to not totally give it away.

"David," Coach Haber's voice boomed. "I put you on speaker."

"I wanted to call because I've decided to make my commitment, and I wanted to let you know so that you could plan who you recruit moving forward."

"You're killing us ..."

"I'll announce on signing day that I plan to play my college ball at the University of ... Michigan."

I heard the room erupt. Uncle John was right; they did want me. Coach Haber took me off speakerphone so that he could talk to me.

"What about Wolf and Tim?" he asked.

"I'll let them call you. I want them to have their moment."

"I take it you want to keep this under wraps for now," Coach Haber guessed correctly.

"I'd like a chance to call all the other schools that recruited me and let them know personally."

"That's something I wish more recruits would do. It's a classy way to handle it. Plus, who knows, in this game, you might run across any of them later in your career. You don't need to burn any bridges."

"I'm excited to put this behind me and look forward to playing ball at the University of Michigan," I said.

"As you heard, you made our day. I'll be in touch. I understand your unique circumstances with your movie commitments, and we'll have to work out the logistics for all that. I also want to get you on campus since you've committed. You're part of the family now. Welcome to Michigan," Coach Haber said, and then needed to get back to his meeting.

Now I had to deliver the bad news to everyone else.

---

While I made my calls to the programs we'd turned down, Lexi found me.

"I talked to Frank Ingram, and he'll put together a social media and traditional campaign to announce your decision."

Once again, she had proved herself invaluable.

"Thanks."

"He had something else for you. Chubby Feldman heard that you'd completed your J-drama. He'd like to get the cast together at his house tomorrow so he can share some information about the upcoming James Bond movie," Lexi said.

"If we don't have any conflicts, set it up," I said.

I wanted to remind her that we still had commitments with the J-drama.

"I talked to the producer forCollege First, and they're still checking to make sure they have everything they need. He said if they did, you could take off Sunday," Lexi said to give me the good news.

I might get to go home a day early.

---

I had lunch with my family. I caught them up with all that had gone on since Tim, Wolf, and I had decided to play ball at Michigan. Frank had sent me a link to a few of the football message boards at different schools. Ty had put out a text hinting that we might be joining him, which caused a frenzy to ensue. It was amusing to see all the 'insiders' scrambling to either debunk the rumor or prop them up with their 'contacts' inside the various football programs.

I always found it fun to read these message boards and see how invested the posters were in the lives of teenagers. I hated to break it to them, but teenagers sometimes did illogical things that had nothing to do with them or their school. The Ohio State board was in total meltdown because they couldn't see any rational explanation as to why I would decide to go to their hated rival, Michigan. They were blaming everything from the rumors about their coach's health to Michigan being a bunch of cheaters by holding a camp at our high school. It had to be someone's fault they'd lost the battle.

Then there were the ones that were the embodiment of hope eternal. It wasn't over until I arrived on campus. They would continue to recruit me, and if the rumors were true, I would see the error of my ways.

I was almost done with lunch when my phone rang. It was Coach Foster from Southwest Central State.

One of the apps that Fritz had added to my phone was the ability to record conversations. The app was originally designed as a way to spy on cheating spouses or your teenagers. I had explained to Fritz that I had zero desire to have him recordingall my conversations. It was bad enough that he had access to my tablet and could review my browser history. How did I know that? We'd been joking around and taking shots at each other when he let it slip that he was confused as to why I liked a certain kind of porn. He had to swear on a stack of Bibles that my mom would never find that out.

I put up with this level of intrusion in my life only because I knew that Fritz and his team were trying to protect me. If anyone ever hacked their server, I shudder to think of what they would find out about me and the other people they protected. Fritz had explained that they downloaded everything to a stand-alone storage device that was not connected to the Internet. For someone to hack it, they would have to hook up to it directly.

That appeased me enough to put up with it. Where I drew the line was recording my phone conversations. With that in mind, Fritz had given me control of what was or was not recorded. I suspected that he went ahead and recorded everything and had given me the button to make me feel better. That unnerving thought aside, I swiped the record button before answering.

"David, Coach Foster."

"Hey, what can I do for you?" I asked.

"I just wanted to touch base because we heard some rumors that you plan to commit to Michigan."

"That's what we decided," I said to include Tim and Wolf.

"I thought we'd made a compelling ... uh ... case for you to give us an on-campus visit. I would hope that you would appreciate the effort we went to."

"Did you want us to send the money back?" I asked to see if he would admit to it.

"What money?" he asked.

"The money I received for the charities."

"I would think those were just coincidental donations and had nothing to do with us," he backtracked.

"If you want the money back, just let me know where to send it. I don't want there to be any hard feelings," I tried again. "I don't want to feel obligated to an on-campus visit if I've already decided."

"Like I said, the money didn't come from us."

"Well, then, I guess I'm sorry for the confusion. Just so you know, the charities do good work. But if someone were to make a donation and have a change of heart, we would make sure to return their money," I offered for the last time.

"Okay, then. I want to wish you luck at Michigan. If you ever have a change of heart, let me know," he said, using my own words against me.

With that, he disconnected.

I made sure the recording was made and then forwarded it to my lawyers and my dad. I would let them decide what to do with it. I was done providing information to the FBI and NCAA, but my legal team could make that call. That was what I paid them for.

---

After lunch, I took my uncle aside. I wanted to get his take on my sex life over the last few months. I told him about Brook wanting me to dominate other girls while she watched, Gwen Larkin being drunk and then going crazy, and finally sleeping with Ben Cowley's girlfriend. To get him up to speed, I shared Tami's concerns and what Cindy had told me.

When I finished, he pulled a Dawson and became quiet. I'm not sure if he expected me to continue to spill my guts or if he was stunned. All I knew was I wasn't going to play his game and be the first to talk.

"What are your fears?" he finally asked.

"I don't know. I was hoping that you would have some ideas."

He took a deep breath.

"First, I have a couple of concerns. We talked about how what you do now can hurt you later. The kinkier stuff, like tying up a girl, is okay if the thought process is appropriately introduced and limited.

"However, there's nothing to stop someone with a victim mentality from later deciding that the activities were nonconsensual. Nor would it stop victims' rights advocates from taking sides and demonizing the alleged consent violator. I'm not even talking about morning-after regrets. I'm talking next month, next year, or the next three- or four-decades-later regrets.

"I expect you probably think you trust all the girls involved right now. Believe me when I tell you that memories and perspectives can change over time. You're smart enough to know that. My concern is that for some people, what you described could be twisted and weaponized to take you down at some point.

"Why do you think I never wanted to put my hat in the ring as far as politics go?" he asked, bringing me up short.

"Why, what happened?" I asked.

"When I was in college, I did much more than you have just described. I found a group of like-minded people and figured that it was college, and I was allowed to experiment. Someone got the bright idea to film a few of the activities. Even though I trusted the people involved at the time, I have no idea if one of them might come after me. For example, if my views don't line up with theirs, politically," he explained.

"I can see what you're talking about," I said in agreement.

"Let me give you some advice. If you decide that you ever want to do the bondage thing, you need to come out of this realizing that you, and your wants, need to be in charge. That's the case whenever these situations come up. I wouldn't dismiss it out of hand because who knows what the future holds? What I would do is be honest with yourself and evaluate each situation. Where do they fall in your circle of trust? Are you comfortable with what's being asked of you? I think you get the idea," he said.

"No, I get it. I don't want to have a few too many and end up with someone accusing me of anything. The last thing I want is to hurt someone," I admitted.

"Is that why you're worried about the submissives that Cindy told you about?"

"That's a major concern for me. I'm afraid that someone like that might permit me to go too far, and it's because they didn't feel they could say 'no.'"

"What you described before you spent time with the two girls last Friday is probably a good idea. Put it out there that they have the power to stop at any time.

"Secondly, I think you're overthinking this. You're not a predator," Uncle John said emphatically.

"Maybe you should clarify that for me," I said with a half-smile.

"When I was training to be a child psychologist, I learned about people who prey on children. They use a process called grooming. What they do happens in stages. They target their victim, then they build trust; fill a need or find something missing in the child's life and provide it; build a 'special' relationship; introduce sex; and finally, reinforce the relationship.

"I know all those steps could apply to dating, but the intent is different. I can't imagine you actively using your unique knowledge to get into someone's pants," he said.

I would be willing to bet that books were written about each stage, and he'd just condensed it down for me.

"It is a fairly good outline for getting and keeping a girlfriend. All except for thinking of them as your victim," I qualified.

"You're right. The line between good and evil isn't always clear-cut. The world is made up of a lot of gray areas. That's why you have to be confident in who you are and what you want. Think of it in terms of the code of conduct your brother taught you, or your life goals, even. If what you're doing is outside of that, you need to slow down and think it through," he explained.

I hadn't been doing that, obviously, or I would never have slept with Gwen or Isabel.

"But what if they're hot? I mean, like, supermodel hot, and I would regret not going for it for the rest of my life?" I asked, half to give my uncle a hard time, but the other half was serious.

"If you were anyone else, I'd call bullshit. You face temptations that us mere mortals will never have. That's why you need to take the time now, before you're faced with decisions like that. You don't want to have to figure things out in the heat of the moment," he explained.

There were always consequences. Going for it, no matter how hot the girl was, could blow up in your face. I'd also made promises to my mom that I didn't intend to break again. I knew I wasn't perfect; none of us are. That wasn't an excuse, though.

"Hey, good job today," I said.

He gave me a curious look.

"You didn't ask me even once how I was feeling."

"On that note, go fetch me a beer. I need it."

I happily did as he asked.

---

Saturday January 14

Manaia took my family to the airport. I was glad that they'd come out. I felt I knew Aunt Bonnie better, and I always enjoyed spending time with my grandmother. It made me happy to know I was her favorite, and Uncle John had come through for me once again. Outside of Mom, Dad, and Greg, he was the one person I could always count on for help. I cherished his advice, and I felt it was spot-on, for the most part.

While Manaia made the airport run, Fritz was my security. I decided to go to the baseball facility and hit some balls. They were packed, but they remembered me and asked if I would be willing to let people watch me hit like last time. When I agreed, they promised to get me in. I decided to wander around and watch some of the others take their cuts.

In one cage, I found two guys batting, a righty and lefty. They would take turns stepping into the box and swinging away. I could see how that would maximize your time. It was like Coach Mason had done with quarterback reps in practice. Instead of one guy hogging all the time, two could get their at-bats in faster. The only problem was they had the machine set at maximum, and they were whiffing badly. They were way behind the ball.

"You have to anticipate when the ball is coming out. When you hear thewhump, start your swing," I coached.

"Yeah, Ross. Try that."

Whump

A swing and a miss. The next kid stepped in.

Whump

Same result.

"You guys suck," I said to encourage them.

I got flipped off for my commentary.

Whump

These guys were terrible. I would think they could at least get lucky if they stuck the head of the bat over the plate. The pitching machine typically sent the ball to the same location each time. I was about to suggest just that.

Whump ... ting ... oof all happened in rapid succession. Ross had fouled it off right into his friend's nut-sack.

"Dude ... you okay?" Ross asked.

I admit that I started to laugh. Ross's friend rolled around on the ground in obvious agony.

Whump ... thump ... ack made me suddenly concerned. Ross had bent over the plate to check on his friend, and the ball clocked him in the side of the neck. The kid went down like Cassidy had executed a perfect bone strike on him. He was out before he hit the ground.

Whump

Staff appeared out of nowhere and shut the machine down. The cute girl who checked us in came and stood beside me.

"Once they haul these two out, you can use this cage. I'm pretty sure they're done for the day," she told me, then promptly turned around and walked back up front like this happened all the time.

Ross started to come around and looked a little goofy. Yep, they were done. I'd also figured out the downside of having two batters in the cage at one time. Maybe I could talk some of the younger guys back home into trying it.

---

Lexi sent me a text to let me know I should get home so I could be ready for lunch at Chubby Feldman's. It felt good to see some of my old skills start to come back. By the end of my time in the cage, I was hitting the ball with authority. I could tell I was ahead of where I was last year at this time. Playing baseball last spring and all summer had made a real difference.

When I got home, I discovered that Lexi had laid out clothes for me. I also saw that she'd packed up most of my stuff and put it in boxes to ship home. It was amazing how much stuff I'd accumulated over the time I'd been here.

One box, in particular, made me grin. Lexi had packed the bar. I was torn between shipping it home where my dad was supposed to no longer drink or see if Lexi wanted it. I didn't want it around if I planned to be in training for baseball season. Then again, I could have one kick-butt party.

After my shower, I was ready to go. Manaia was back from his airport trip. I found Lexi already in the car. She must have thought I wasn't taking her. I hadn't thought about it. I was confused as to what the protocol was for a meeting like this. In the past, we'd met at a restaurant, and everyone had brought someone with them. When we pulled up, we were just behind Rita James, who had Kent with her. Kent was both Rita's and my manager.

Rita came to my car and opened the back door to let me out.

"I was so sorry to hear about your dad. How is he doing?" she asked as she hugged me.

"He's home, so I assume he's okay. We're taking it as a wake-up call because his father's death was due to heart problems."

"And your mom?" Rita asked.

"She was a little shaken up, but she's holding it together. I can't wait to get home so I can check on them myself."

"I was sorry to hear that Brook's moving. Will you try the long-distance bit?" she asked.

"No."

"I bet the girls will be lining up," she said as she took my arm and led me to the house.

"With only a semester of high school left, I think I'll focus on baseball and leave girls to college," I said, realizing that was what would happen.

"Halle's single," Rita offered.

"Is she? I'll keep that in mind. Who knows what'll happen when we travel to New Zealand and only have each other there?" I asked to tease her.

She looked up at me and smiled. Rita was a terrible matchmaker. I think that is a mother's prerogative, though.

Chubby Feldman was waiting for us at the front door.

"Rita, gorgeous as ever. And there's my secret weapon. David, welcome," he said as he kissed Rita's cheek and shook my hand.

I stepped into the foyer and was reminded of what true success could bring. Chubby's home was one of the truly spectacular Hollywood mansions. If my horde moved in here, I might lose one or two of them in this sprawling estate. I'd been here once before at night for a party. Seeing it in the daylight showed how special it was.

"You're the last two to arrive," Chubby continued as he led us into the house towards the back. "I decided to have our lunch outside since it's such a nice day."

When we stepped out back, I only had a moment to survey the scene before two girls came sauntering up. It was Mia Hillard, who was cast as Bianca Fields, my love interest in the film, and Isabel Alexandra, Ben Cowley's girlfriend and star in the recent Baywatch movie.

"Mia. Isabel," I said in greeting.

Mia looked confused when she realized that Isabel was standing beside her.

"You two know each other?" she asked.

"I know Isabel through her boyfriend, Ben Cowley. He and I were in Star Academy together," I explained to Mia, then turned to Isabel. "Why didn't you tell me you landed a role in Devil May Care when I saw you Friday?"

"I just got the role. I play Miss Moneypenny, M's secretary."

"Well, welcome aboard. It will be nice to have a friendly face on set," I said.

As soon as I said it, I knew I'd made a misstep. Isabel blushed, and Mia gave us a look.

Lexi appeared at my side.

"I think they're ready," she said to save me from myself.

Everyone was sitting at a long table with placards with our names on them, so we knew where to sit. Chubby was at the head of the table with Stewart Thatcher, who would be James Bond, to his right, and with Rita next to Stewart. I was on his left with Mia next to me. Next to Mia was Mark Harm, our producer, and across from him was Isabel.

Then there were actors I hadn't met yet. Grant Quigley, an older Brit, who would play M, the chief of MI6; Gustav Drax, who had a heavy Eastern European accent and would play our villain; and Geoffrey McGowen, a younger Scottish nerdy hipster, who would play Q, part of British Secret Service and the 'gadget guy.' Further down the table were Lexi, Kent, and the other actors' entourages.

Once we were all seated, waitstaff appeared with salads. When everyone was served, Chubby got our attention.

"This is the most nerve-racking time for me. We've assembled the cast, the writers have given us the script to work from, locations have been secured, and we've worked out the storyboard. Now we have to execute the plan. I hate waiting. If we could, I would have us start shooting tomorrow."

We had a good lunch, and I exchanged my number with the rest of the cast. Rita acted like a den mother and took us under her wing. With her unofficially in charge, I knew we would be okay.

Chubby pulled Lexi, Kent, and me into a room with Mark Harm.

"We're four months out from filming. I talked to Jessup Fields and Kitty Ellis to get some ideas on how to work with you. They tell me that you take to coaching well."

"I think that's due to his athletic background," Kent said.

"Our goal is to have you do as many of your stunts as possible with safety in mind. I'm most worried about the opening sequence, or what we're calling the 'million-dollar shot.' They've convinced me to save it for the last week that you're with us in case ..." he said as he trailed off.

"... he dies, gets maimed, breaks something," Kent finished.

"We would completely understand if you decided not to do it," Mark assured me.

"Can you share what you plan?" I asked.

Chubby got excited and ran me through the scene. I was sitting on the edge of my seat, bouncing up and down with him when he finished. What I loved most about the James Bond movies were the extended action sequences. Many a movie franchise had tried to duplicate what they did, but they were the best. When he was done, I turned to Kent and Lexi.

"You tell my mom, and you're both fired."

Lexi looked at Kent.

"I think he's decided to do it."

She made both Chubby and Mark's day.

---

I let Manaia leave after we got home. It was just Lexi and me.

"We can either eat leftovers or order delivery. Which do you want?" she asked.

"You decide."

"How about Chinese?"

"I want something unusual and spicy," I suggested.

"I know what to get. Leave it to me," Lexi said.

"Hey, quick question. Do you want that box of booze and wine?"

"Yes, please," she said and went to my bedroom to get it before I changed my mind.

She came out struggling with the box. I hadn't guessed there was that much. I took it from her and followed her out to her car, where I placed it in her trunk. When we came back in, I went and changed into shorts and a t-shirt while Lexi called in our order. I went to the media room and watched some college basketball. It was hard to get used to the East Coast late games starting at 5:00. I found an ACC battle between Duke and Louisville.

I zoned out and was on the verge of a good nap when Lexi came in and held out her hand. I found my money clip and handed it to her. She came back in with a couple of bags of Chinese food. She knew me too well. She handed over a box of potstickers to get me started. She'd gone for crab Rangoon. I'd devoured my first two potstickers when Lexi asked me a question.

"Are you happy with my work as your PA?"

"Don't tell Kent or Kendal, but you are by far the best PA I've ever had. I seriously don't know how you could do better. You have gotten to know me and my quirks. You anticipate what I need before I even know I need it. Except for our little misunderstanding concerning Brook, you've exceeded all my expectations," I said.

"Does that mean you want me to work for you again, come summer and next fall?"

"If you want to, I would love to have you," I assured her.

Lexi smiled and nodded. I hadn't considered that she might not join me. I felt relieved when she confirmed she would travel with me when I made the movies.

After the appetizers, she handed me two boxes. My first was a steamed salmon filet in a spicy black bean sauce. The other container had sesame and peanut noodles in it. It amazed me that she'd picked the Chinese peanut and noodles dish that was one of my favorites when I was young. Lexi had hit it out of the park with the salmon. Never would I have thought of ordering that as carryout. She'd ordered an eggplant and tofu dish in spicy garlic sauce for herself. Of course, I made her share.

Once we finished eating, she cleaned everything up and left me to watch my game.

---

When halftime came, Lexi walked in, grabbed the remote, and turned off the TV. The first thing I noticed was that she was wearing one of my dress shirts, stockings, and high heels. The old bird dog, Mr. Happy, took an immediate interest. The big brain had klaxons going off that this was trouble. Before I could figure out who had control of the body, Lexi straddled my legs and sat on my lap, facing me.

I started to say something, but she touched my lips to shush me.

"Before you say anything, let me say my piece."

I just swallowed in response. A one-night stand wasn't what I needed. Plus, I knew that there wasn't enough liquor in the house to ease my frayed nerves. This was a bad idea. Having sex couldn't cure my woes. Brook had just told me she was moving to Cincinnati. Even though I knew we'd broken up, this felt like cheating.

"I want to add to my duties as your PA. I want to offer you no-strings hookups," she said, and she saw my eyebrows go up in shock. "Before you reject it out of hand, let me explain."

I blinked at her. Somehow, I'd lost the power of speech.

"Starting this summer, if shooting the J-drama was any indication, you will be spending long hours on set. I think the condensed filming schedule you'll have with the James Bond movie and the ones in New Zealand will mean you'll never get any time for yourself. I want you to imagine twelve- to eighteen-hour days. When would you have time to find someone to hook up with?" she asked.

"People on set, I guess," I finally said.

"The two leading candidates are Mia and Isabel for the James Bond movie. Isabel is in a committed relationship. Would you want to do to her what Ben tried to do with Halle?" Lexi asked.

She was playing dirty and knew it. She hurried on before I could think about that very much.

"You're a young, healthy male who's used to having sex on a regular basis."

"Lexi, there is still the little issue of you working for me. I can't add no-strings hookups to your job description."

"I should have listened to Brook. She told me not to try that argument on you."

"Brook knows about this?" I asked.

"Please, I'm smart enough to know that even if you two broke up, I'd still be foolish to go behind her back when it comes to you," she said.

I needed to remember that Lexi was extremely smart. Then I had a sudden insight that made me want to run. Uncle John had told me about what child molesters did to lure underage children: grooming. Lexi was grooming me.

It made sense if you looked at the steps. First, they target their victim. Lexi had mysteriously appeared at Zak Verwood's party the night of Zander's attack. Then they build trust. She'd stepped up and was a witness to the attack and offered her statement to the police. Next, they fill a need or find something missing in your life.

She'd become my PA. The next step was to build a 'special' relationship. She was hands down the most attentive PA in the history of PAs. Sex was introduced. She'd talked Brook into letting her give me a blowjob. Finally, she reinforced the relationship by agreeing to let her be my PA over the summer and fall.

Then I remembered something else my uncle had told me. If you go around looking for problems, expecting to find them, you surely will. He'd also shared that there was a difference between grooming and building a relationship, and that difference was the intentions involved.

The question I had to ask myself was, could Lexi be doing this for the wrong reasons? If I looked back to when I first met her, I would say 'hell, yes.' She had been a bitch on wheels, and I didn't like her at all. What I had to ask myself was whether the last several weeks were just all an act or not. I couldn't imagine anyone being around me the hours Lexi had been and me not see through an act.

If her intent was pure, that still left the question whether I wanted to do this. If I walked into a random bar and saw Lexi, I would be attracted to her. She was my type: tall, athletic, and good-looking. I had the added benefit of knowing her. For me, the last part was the most important. I knew I wouldn't do well with random hookups in my current worldview. Maybe Lexi could get me on board with it.

Lexi then did what she should have done to begin with: she kissed me, reached down, undid my shorts, and fished out Mr. Happy. She gave him a couple of tugs and released my lips so she could provide a running commentary.

"Your cock is soft, like a rod of iron wrapped in plush velvet."

She scooted back to give herself room to bend down so the top of her head touched my chest.

"You smell like you're all man, which you are. Your scent alone makes me want to push my hand between my thighs to help relieve the ache down there. You make me need you. It's a physical reaction that no one else has made me feel, ever," she explained. "It's been that way ever since you first took me on that yacht."

She looked up at me.

"I know you don't want a relationship right now. I also know we can't have a 'normal' relationship. I won't be your girlfriend. But I don't want a normal relationship with you. I just want ... what you do to me, when you choose to. When we hook up."

Her eyes focused downward again, and I felt her hot breath on my sex. I sucked in my breath when she leaned down and licked the tip of my dick.

"Lexi," I warned.

She could feel my legs quiver in anticipation. It was all I could do not to grab the back of her neck to hold her in place as I pushed my hips forward. She looked up at me again, and our eyes locked. I could tell she loved the bit of control she had for those brief moments. If she asked me if I wanted to hook up, I would give her a resounding 'yes.' She opened her mouth to form a perfect 'O.' Kill me now; we were about to get to the best part.

Lexi leaned forward again and took the top third of my member in her mouth.

"Oh ... yessss," I hissed between clenched teeth.

My paper-thin control was torn in shreds as I pushed Lexi off my lap onto the floor and grabbed a handful of hair. I held her in place as my hips began to take control of the action. In self-defense, she grasped the base of my cock so that I couldn't push too far forward and choke her. I could tell that I was starting to get there. Mr. Happy began to thicken, lengthen, stiffen, and get harder, if that was even possible.

Lexi seemed to sense my desire. I worried for a split second whether Lexi was as into this as she'd said. Then she became more of an active participant as she sucked me with more force and used her tongue in interesting ways. I saw Lexi's nostrils flare as she inhaled my musky, heated scent. I could see her flush with desire. If I'd had any doubt before, I could see this wasn't an act.

I rejoiced as the heavy weight of my cock slid across her tongue, stretching her lips, filling her mouth as I pushed my length forward. I'd found a good rhythm and might have gone on for much longer, but she reached up with her other hand and used her fingernails to scratch me just under my balls. For me, that was one of my most sensitive spots in a very good way.

"Oh, crud," I gasped. "I'm going to shoot."

I tried to pull her head off me, but she wasn't having any of that. She had a good grip on me and continued to do wonderful things to Mr. Happy. He convinced the big brain to let him drive the body.

I slammed my hips forward to get as deep as she'd allow me, which was a lot deeper than I'd thought she would. I heard a rumble come from deep in my chest as I moaned with pleasure.

Lexi was killing me. She bobbed up and down like a madwoman, and it was too much. I couldn't stop the runaway rush of feelings, so I gave up trying to control them. I felt Mr. Happy jerk against the roof of her mouth as I released my seed. It jetted forth and coated her throat, mouth, and tongue. I couldn't believe how good that was.

---

I may have blacked out a little.

Lexi stood before me and had a tremulous little smile on her face.

"You liked that?" she asked as she unbuttoned my dress shirt she wore as a ... well, dress.

When she got to her navel, I saw the swell of her breasts since she wasn't wearing a bra. I felt my arousal begin to return.

"Come here," I said in a husky voice.

I reached between us, cupped her sex, and slid my middle fingers between her swollen folds. I looked into her eyes as they got bigger, and could feel her tremble in anticipation.

"You liked that?" I asked, using her own words.

Certainly, I liked it. I also knew all that kept me from stopping was Mr. Happy successfully arguing that Lexi'd said this was just a hookup. I had a bad feeling that if I allowed my emotions to get involved, I might fall hard for her.

That was the last thing I needed right now, and it didn't seem like that was what she was after. I was leaving either tomorrow or the next day and going home. I would have to face everyone and explain what happened with Brook and me. It was best that I not have Lexi on the brain when I did that. This was precisely what I needed to clear my head: no-strings, hook-up sex.

She was soft and wet. I had to snap out of it.

"Tell me again. Tell me this is just sex. Tell me that it doesn't mean more than that," I begged.

"Relax," she said, and then got serious. "David, I know you're hurting. I know that there's no room in your head for more, and I honestly am not looking for anything from you except that you take care of a need of my own. I have needs, too. Why can't we help each other?"

"Lexi, if we take this any further, there have to be rules. If we're going to do this, it has to be just sex. No emotions, no expectations, no guilt. It's just two people helping each other out."

"That's what I want," she assured me.

"If either of us even thinks we have found someone we want more with, we stop."

"Agreed."

"This begins once we start the movies. If we're going to do this, then it's just the two of us. I don't want to worry about others. I want to keep it professional with my castmates, and I'm not interested in finding random hookups," I explain.

"If you're the one giving me orgasms, I won't ever hook up with anyone else."

I smiled.

"Lexi, you've been a very good girl. You're the best PA I could ever have. Good girls get treats," I said as I turned up the sexual vibe meter to nine and a half.

"What's my treat?" she asked.

"I plan to give you enough satisfaction that you won't need to find anyone else while I'm gone."

"What about Bob?" she asked.

That was to my sexual vibe what throwing a bucket of ice water was to sleep. Lexi laughed at my confusion.

"Who's Bob?" I asked.

"My Battery-Operated Boyfriend."

"Huh?" I asked, even more confused, and then the lightbulb went on. "Oh ... Bob is cool. I encourage you to get together with Bob as often you want."

Lexi dropped her hand between her legs and began to rub it in circles. She really was a 'good girl.' She was 'good' at turning me on.

"Come here. I've made my decision. I want to do this hook-up idea of yours."

"You sure? I don't want you wimping out on me," she teased.

"You better learn to scream my name because you'll be doing it a lot," I said as I jumped up.

"David!"

"Run, little girl. Run for my bed," I said as I swatted her butt.

We were each a giggling mess as we ran for the bedroom.

I have started to think I should make decisions more often. This was the third one I'd made in the last 24 hours. I was going to school at Michigan; I would do most of my own stunts in the James Bond movie; and I'd agreed to a hook-up arrangement with Lexi. All of which made me a happy boy.

---

Sunday January 15

I rolled over and found Lexi glued to her phone with a frown on her face.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"You're leaving today. They don't need you for anything with the J-drama."

"That's good, right?" I asked.

"You're leaving," she said again, and then she sighed. "I'd selfishly hoped that you would stay an extra day so we could ... you know."

She was cute when she got bashful like that.

"Have mind-blowing sex?"

She wouldn't look at me.

"When do I have to leave?" I asked.

"Two hours."

"Let's make the most of it," I suggested.

Her squealing and putting me into a lip-lock must have meant 'yes.'

---

"Did you two ...?" Manaia asked when he saw Lexi and me come to the kitchen from my wing of the house.

I think us both having wet hair was a dead giveaway. I just gave him a look. Then I noticed that Paul was with him. Paul just shook his head and ate another doughnut. Lexi must have told Manaia to pick them up because they were all Boston creams, my favorite.

As I was about to bite into my first one, my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, but I knew where it was from: it was an Indianapolis area code. I hit my recording app and answered.

"This is David," I said.

"I have good news," Stewart Chadwick said.

"For who?" I asked.

"Me, of course. Guess who has been assigned to investigate you and your buddies?"

"If you're calling, I assume it's you."

"You got it on the first try. Guess what else?" he asked with glee.

"Just tell me, Mr. Chadwick."

"Careful. I'm not sure I like that tone of voice. You need to be nicer to the one person who holds your future in their hands," he warned me.

"What do you want, Stewart?" I asked.

"Why, I want you to back off on your commitment to Michigan, of course. I want you to do what I told you I wanted to begin with. I want you to get the goods on Southwest Central State and their dirty program."

"If I don't?" I asked.

"Then I will yank your amateurism certification and put a block on you signing with anyone. I'll do it to your friends as well. I'll say that until we finish the investigation, it would be irresponsible to allow you to potentially damage the fine reputation of one of our member institutions. We can't have that kind of taint spread by someone who takes money to play. I'm also afraid that the investigation might take a long while," he threatened.

"Are you sure that's how you want to play it?" I asked.

"If you don't play ball, you will learn the full power of the NCAA. Even you, with your money and lawyers, are nothing compared to us. We've been playing against bigger foes with deeper pockets than you'll ever have. We even have Congress in our back pocket. The NCAA would rather crush you than worry about you possibly being a problem. And the thing is, David ..."

"Yeah?"

"If you don't help, then you will be a problem."

"Stewart. I understand that you're not happy that I didn't want to help you entrap Southwest Central State in your sting. I get it. What I don't understand is why you would go to such lengths to do it. What's in it for you?" I asked.

"You just never mind about that. I'll give you a couple of days to think about it. If you don't come around to my way of thinking, then it's on you," he said, then hung up.

All my good feelings over the last few days just evaporated. This was a mess.

---

Here ends Stupid Boy: Senior Year - Winter

Next Book in the Boy: Senior Year - Winter

Thanks for reading.

G Younger