Jeannie’s Tale

Jeannie's Tail (uh, Tale):

A Cheerleaders Adventure

The alarm on the bedside table went off promptly at seven. "It's a Good Day" clicked on to play.

Jeannie Davis opened her eyes to a new day and stretched. She looked at the clock. She wished it was Saturday. She liked to sleep an extra thirty minutes on Saturday.

But this wasn't Saturday. This was a weekday, and she had practice, and she had a class, and there was a game tonight.

She got up, brushed her hair, brushed her teeth, and went looking for a pair of shorts.

Her mother insisted on no clothes on the floor. So instead, Jeannie piled all her clothes into various drawers. It kept them off the floor and kept her mother happy. But when it came time to find exactly what she wanted to wear, well, the system left a little to be desired.

She finally found a pair of navy shorts and pulled on a T-shirt. It costs nothing to make someone smile, it said, surrounded by colorful flowers.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Presentable.

She headed for the stairs.

Her mom, Ellen, was flitting about the kitchen, making French toast. Her little brother, David, thirteen years her junior, was sitting at the table. One finger was picking at a game on his iPad. A finger on the other hand was jammed up his nose, mining for gold.

"Gross," Jeannie said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

His only response was to inspect his prize. Then he wiped it on the leg of his pants.

"Double gross," Jeannie said. "You need to wash your hands."

David only looked at her, grabbed a handful of cereal with his now-free hand, and shoved it into his mouth.

"This is why you should always use a condom," her mother said.

She flipped a piece of French toast onto Jeannie's plate, sprinkled on some powdered sugar, and cut it diagonally.

Cutting a piece of toast diagonally made it taste better. Everyone knew that.

Jeannie loved her mom.

Jeannie loved her brother, too. Just not some of his disgusting habits.

She finished her coffee, wolfed down her toast, and kissed her mom goodbye.

"Practice today," she said. "And then we'll go to the soda shop after the game."

"Have a good time," her mom said.

A horn beeped outside.

That would be Claudia. Claudia Bush, cheerleader captain.

She took it upon herself to personally round up her crew. She always made sure they were on time.

"Gotta go, Mom."

Jeannie kissed her mother on the cheek, leaving behind a powdered-sugar lip print.

Her mother laughed.

The other girls were already waiting. Claudia was driving. Claudia always drove, probably because she had a fun little convertible. Brandy Jo Woods had a monster truck that required a ladder to get into, and Stacy Charm had a little red Prius that required a shoehorn to get out of.

So it was settled.

Jeannie climbed into the back between Stacy and Patty Lightfoot. Rainbow was riding shotgun, fiddling with the radio.

Rainbow always got the front seat.

Rainbow was six months pregnant. All the girls took care of Rainbow, whether she wanted them to or not.

"We're a team," Claudia often reminded her. "Your baby, our baby."

Rainbow didn't protest. At least, not too much.

She loved being loved.

She switched on KRIZ. American Authors was singing "Best Day of My Life."

The girls sang along.

The girls couldn't sing for shit. That was why they were cheerleaders and not in the choir. They couldn't have cared less.

It only made them sing louder.

Claudia wheeled into the dry cleaners and picked up their uniforms. As soon as they were moving again, the girls began stripping off their clothes as they sang.

A passing truck blared its horn in appreciation.

Jeannie held up her It Costs Nothing to Make Someone Smile T-shirt.

Spreading cheer was what they did.

No big deal. They were wearing sports bras.

Well, all but Patty.

Patty had huge, beautiful breasts, and she loved showing them off. Jeannie figured that if she had tits like that, she would show them off, too.

It would be a shame not to.

Patty finally struggled into her uniform. Up front, Rainbow had managed to do the same. Despite her condition, Rainbow was very flexible.

She was fiddling with the radio again. She found Natasha Bedingfield and began to sing.

"Feel the rain upon your skin. No one else can feel it for you. Only you can let it in."

The other girls joined in.

Now dressed, Patty reached into the front and pulled Claudia's T-shirt up and over her head while Claudia drove.

Claudia was a safe driver.

Always pay attention. Always keep both hands on the wheel.

Wouldn't want to cause a wreck, right?

Rainbow took Claudia's red-and-white uniform from the plastic wrapper. Fought to keep everything from blowing out the top. The Aloha Community College logo was emblazoned across the front.

Patty unhooked Claudia's bra as she drove.

Claudia had nice boobs as well. Patty bounced them at a passing driver.

"Hey," Claudia called out. "Not cool."

But she was laughing anyway.

"No one else, no one else can speak the words on your lips," they sang.

Patty pinched Claudia's nipples, teasing them erect.

"Hey," Claudia said. "You know I'm strictly dickly."

"Then just drive straight," Brandy Woods called from the back seat.

The other girls were laughing now.

Claudia stopped at a red light. She was about to slap her friend's hands away when another car pulled up alongside them.

Father Brighthouse from the Episcopal church.

He stared.

The singing stopped.

Patty Lightfoot's fingers stopped teasing Claudia's nipples and covered them instead.

"Morning, Father," Rainbow called from the passenger seat and waved.

The light changed.

Father Brighthouse sped away.

Claudia grabbed her uniform top from Rainbow and tugged it over her head.

Spreading cheer.

It was what they did.

At the next block, Claudia switched on her blinker and turned. The Aloha Senior Services building was on Simmons. It was an industrial-strength red-brick building that looked more like a warehouse than a residence for the elderly.

There was a wide area out front where the residents gathered to sip bad coffee, watch the few cars that passed, and remember happier times.

Claudia slowed.

The residents waved.

"Gimme an A!" the cheerleaders began.

"A!" came the roar from the seniors.

"Gimme an S!"

"S!"

The answer was even louder.

"Gimme another S!"

"S!"

"What's that spell?"

And for the auditorily impaired, the girls showed them.

The crowd roared.

The cheerleaders cheered, and the seniors cheered back.

Claudia drove on.

It costs nothing to make someone smile.

***

Jeannie Davis was the newest member of the team. She was nineteen but looked younger--petite, with brown hair, bright eyes, and a beautiful smile.

She was small enough that she usually topped the pyramids, when there were enough girls to make a pyramid. They were still a few short, so Jeannie had been a boon.

Jeannie had moved to Aloha from Iowa during her senior year of high school and fallen in love with California. Mountains on one side, a beach on the other. It beat the paper-flat place she had come from, and where attitudes were different.

Jeannie still blushed easily, but that never stopped her. She was a California girl at heart--fierce, independent, and fearless.

Jeannie had cheered for her high school team, so she already knew the rules: no smoking, no drinking, and no one gets hurt.

She fit in perfectly.

***

"Who wants my cherry?" Patty asked.

She popped it into her mouth. "Too late."

"Yeah," Brandy said. "By a couple of years."

It was an old joke, but still funny as hell.

"You're a fine one to be talking," Patty said. "You lost yours to your cousin in the back seat of an old pickup truck."

"I didn't know he was my cousin," Brandy said, mock-defensively.

Everyone laughed.

"Come on, Mills," Patty said. "Guys aren't immune either."

Jonathan Mills blushed bright red and found something interesting on the tablecloth.

"You know the story," he said. "I lost mine to Claudia."

Claudia made a little bow, clicked her pen, and made a mark on her arm.

"Just one?" Brandy said. "What, did the pen run out of ink?"

Claudia laughed. "What about you, new girl? How'd you lose your cherry?"

Jeannie Davis blushed even redder than Jonathan Mills, if that was possible.

"Mine was kind of spectacular," she said. "In front of the whole school."

She had everyone's attention.

"Well, come on," Claudia said. "Tell us."

So Jeannie did.

"I used to be pretty good at gymnastics," Jeannie said.

"Used to be?" Brandy asked. "Girl, you put us all to shame now."

"Well, I'm sort of out of practice," Jeannie said. "We had a meet in the gym back in Iowa. I was on the balance beam. Thought I could do a walkover and a flip, but my foot kind of came down wrong. I sort of--you know--split the beam instead."

"Ow," Brandy said.

"Double ow," Patty said.

"It was pretty bad," Jeannie said. "I mean, to the point they had to call an ambulance."

"Ooh," the girls said together.

They had all missed a beam at one point or another. It made them cringe.

"So what happened?"

"Well," Jeannie said. "You know what happened."

Everyone stared for a moment.

"That's a pretty awesome story," Patty said, "but not exactly what we meant."

She made a circle with her thumb and forefinger, then worked a finger from her other hand in and out of it.

"Well," Jeannie said, "that part was sort of private. About a week later, my boyfriend sort of tested it out. Made sure nothing was permanently broken."

There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief. Everyone knew Jeannie wasn't broken. They were glad she wasn't broken.

"So did he test out everything?" Patty asked.

Patty was unfamiliar with the concept of boundaries.

"Did he test out the back door too?"

Jeannie's brow wrinkled. "Uh, no."

"No?" Patty said.

"No?" Claudia asked.

"Uh, I've never done it that way," Jeannie said.

Now Patty and Claudia perked up.

"Never?"

Jeannie blushed even redder and shook her head.

"We have to help," Claudia announced. "You can't go through life saying you've never tried it.

"I mean, you've got a table full of eager volunteers."

Now all the guys were blushing. It was always amazing what could make a guy blush. That only seemed to egg Patty and Claudia on. It took a lot to make either of them redden.

Claudia grabbed a straw, broke it into four pieces, and held them out to the guys.

PJ Karparti drew the short straw.

"There," Claudia said. "You have a volunteer."

"Hey," Jeannie said. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"There's no 'I' in teamwork," Claudia said.

"There's a 'me,'" Jeannie pointed out. "And there's an 'ass'."

Brandy looked puzzled. "There's no 'ass' in 'team'."

"There's my ass," Jeannie said, "and my ass wants a say."

Claudia considered that. "Fine," she said. "You get to pick from one of these fine specimens of masculine maleness."

The guys had been surprisingly quiet, engrossed in this conversation.

Claudia moved behind Adonis Smith, the Aloha receiver. Draped her arms across his wide shoulders; kissed him affectionately on top of the head. "Our contestant number one is Adonis Smith, AKA Beer-Can Smith, famed not for his masculine length but for his 'roid-wrecking girth--"

Everyone laughed. Rainbow Smith-- no relation to Adonis-- picked up a soda can, sighted along the width for emphasis.

Patty the put her arms around Bruce Janger. The Bruiser played offense. Patty kissed him on the head. "Or we have contestant number two, not so famous for his girth but for his extraordinary length. They call him the Bruiser for his unintentional ability to straighten out the first kink in your colon--"

Rainbow stacked two cans. Sighted down their length.

Jeannie blushed. Everyone else was rolling on the floor. PJ sat very still, holding the short straw. He grinned.

"Ok," she said. "The lesser of evils."

"There." Claudia smiled. "See? Teamwork."

***

They spent the remainder of the evening planning the mission. Tomorrow was Saturday. Kit Kat High was playing at the local drive in. Plenty of naked bodies to get one in the mood, but not enough of a plot to distract from the mission.

"You gotta text when the deed is done," Claudia said. "We'll cheer you on."

***

Saturday came. So did PJ, just not the way everyone had expected.

Everything started great. Exactly as planned.

PJ picked Jeannie up promptly at 6:30pm. He had even put on a clean shirt.

Jeannie looked great. Jeans and a cheer t-shirt. Aloha Community College in red and white and gold. Jeannie could make anything look great.

Jeannie's mother, Ellen, liked PJ. She liked all of Jeannie's friends. They were all courteous and respectful. They called her Mrs. D. She was not sure how she felt about that. Mrs. D made her feel old but that was no reflection on them. She told them to have a good time. She told Jeannie to be home by midnight.

Jeannie was a good daughter. Jeannie never pushed boundaries.

Well, almost.

They had stopped at McDonalds. Stocked up on food to sustain them. Two of everything on the dollar menu. Then off to the drive-in.

Kit Kat High was the stereotypical B-movie. Horny football players and cheerleaders with big tits that always seemed to be bouncing in slow-motion and no idea about how to cheer.

The girls trying some out-of-sync routine and a blowjob in the coach's office later and Jeannie had seen enough. It was time to show everyone how this was done.

Two minutes later and they were in the back seat. PJ had borrowed his brother's Jeep. Had the foresight to bring a beach towel, just in case things, well, just in case.

The Jeep had tinted windows. All the better. No chance of accidentally picking up an audience. Tinted windows meant you could get completely naked. Naked was always better, especially for a delicate operation such as this.

P. J. Karparti was Aloha's third-string quarterback. Not the best player on the team, but he got an A for effort.

He was average height, with dark hair and muscles hardened by about a million push-ups and sit-ups every day, along with running the bleachers at least three days a week. More if Coach Blake was in a bad mood.

But it was not just his. Muscles. He was hard all over.

Jeannie slid her hand slowly along the length of his erection. He responded by getting even harder, as if that were possible.

This excited her.

He kissed her and kneaded her breasts.

She liked that.

He slid a finger inside her.

She really liked that.

Then another.

She was getting a little carried away. P. J. was a good kisser. The fingers working inside her only made things--well, better.

She was still stroking his cock. Slowly. Up and down. Up and down.

She slowed.

She should slow down. She should make this last.

But damn it, she didn't want this to last.

She wanted him inside her.

The mission. Remember the mission.

Yes. Now, how to do this?

She tried to shift and get one leg up. Maybe turn sideways. Maybe squirm to the right just a little. She tried to guide him, but her hands kept following what her mind wanted instead.

Maybe if she put one leg on the back of the seat, things would align better.

She felt the head of his cock pressing against her asshole.

She shifted. He slipped.

Damn it.

She adjusted her aim.

He kissed her deeper. She guided him forward, urging him on.

He thrust, sliding into her--

pussy.

Jeannie gasped and pressed her mouth against his. She found his tongue with hers, wrapped her body around him, and drew him tighter. She lifted her hips, taking his full length inside her.

Wrong hole. Wrong hole, her mind cried out.

And it was.

But it wasn't, and she knew it.

She rolled atop him and took every inch.

Jeannie came.

P. J. came.

Jeannie sagged against his chest.

After a moment, she laughed.

"I don't think we did it the way we were supposed to."

***

"You missed?" Claudia asked incredulously. "You mean you literally can't find your ass with both hands?"

"I got carried away," Jeannie said in her own defense.

They were sitting at McDonald's. Rainbow was craving McNuggets with honey mustard and a Coke.

A cherry Coke.

The joke was not lost on Patty or Stacy. They both brayed laughter when she placed the order.

Rainbow had missed her calling as a stand-up comedian.

They went over the details of the date with the precision of a military after-action debrief.

They concluded that Jeannie was just too damn sexy. She had been too horny. Now that she had gotten some dick out of her system--or rather, into her system--the next attempt would be easier.

"Friday," Brandy said.

"Friday," Jeannie agreed.

The team had a bye that week.

All the better. Her date would be well rested.

Cooper Harris was up in the rotation.

Cooper Harris had the nickname Meatwhistle, though it had nothing to do with any particular endowment.

The name had started one night when the guys were sitting around swapping stories. Cooper bragged that he and a previous girlfriend had "formed a backseat band. He played the hairy harmonica. She played the meat whistle."

Everyone stopped and looked at him.

"Where the hell did you come up with that?"

The story might have ended there, but a few days later, Adonis Smith passed him in the hall. A high five. "Whassup, Meatwhistle?" Cooper had protested. A little too loudly. Some of the other guys from the team had overheard...

Nicknames worked like Navy call signs. The more you hated one, the more certain it was to stick.

From that day forward, Cooper Harris was Meatwhistle.

That was just the way shit like that happened.

***

Cooper Harris owned an old van. It was a real California van, done in bright colors and with a rack on top for surf boards. Plenty of blankets and pillows in the back. Always a mini-fridge cooler full of soft drinks and snacks. It was like a home away from home.

He had picked her up on Friday night. They had gone to the drive in. Pom Pom Girls was showing. It was a ridiculous movie starring Robert Carradine, Jennifer Ashley, and Cheryl Smith. It was too ridiculous to watch. It was good for other things, though.

Jeannie reported on her success the Saturday afternoon at the Dairy Maid over banana splits.

The other girls were silent, their spoons halfway to their mouths.

"Just the end?" Patty asked.

"Yeah," Jeannie said. "And then we finished the old-fashioned way."

"You mean the end? Like the end, and then the credits roll?"

"No. The end. Then we finished the old-fashioned way."

"So, when you say the end, you mean, like--"

"He kind of stuck his head in and said howdy before putting it in the usual place." That was Claudia. Direct and to the point.

"So, you didn't actually do the deed?" Patty asked.

She looked at Claudia, then at Rainbow and Stacy.

Rainbow shrugged. "I think barely in only counts as getting accidented."

Jeannie frowned.

"Accidented?" She asked.

"That's what guys call it when they hear us eep," Patty said helpfully.

"I never got accidented." Jeannie said.

"Congratulations. Now you have."

"Yeah," Rainbow continued. "I think for it to count as in, it has to bump against your spleen."

Rainbow had truly missed her calling as a stand-up comedian.

"I think maybe some slower music might have helped," Jeannie reflected.

"Slower music? What were you listening to?" Stacy asked.

"Well, it sort of had the right beat. You know, for the way we finished."

"What was the song?"

"The 'Witch Doctor' song," Jeannie said, blushing.

"'The Witch Doctor'?" Patty exclaimed. "Yeah, not exactly the right beat for butt-fucking."

"Or the right lyric," Rainbow said, laughing. "Ooh-ee, ooh-ah--ouch."

The other girls laughed hysterically. Soon they were doing a high-step, gangly, tip-toe dance around the soda shop, hands covering their asses, singing, "Ooh-ee, ooh-Ow-ouch."

Claudia finally collapsed into the seat beside Jeannie and caught her breath.

"All right," she said. "This is getting serious. It's time to call in the big guns."

***

They called Jonathan Mills, their resident, uh, problem solver.

Jeannie had a problem.

Mills was the solution, even if he didn't quite know it yet.

Mills was not a jock. Mills blushed a lot, just like Jeannie. So they already had something in common.

He would be perfect.

And this time, they were leaving nothing to chance.

Everyone ponied up. There were no dollar signs in team.

There was a game Friday, so this had to happen by Wednesday. That gave them two days to plan and just a little over a hundred dollars to make it happen.

That meant the Ritz was out. But even a Holiday Inn beat Meatwhistle's van. And this was definitely not a venture for the back seat of Mills's father's prized Nissan.

Claudia made the reservation and paid cash up front.

"I guess that means dinner is out," Patty said.

"And the limo."

"And a new dress," Stacy added.

Claudia looked at Stacy and smiled.

"Since when does Aloha give up?" Patty said. "There is an emprovise in team. E-M-P-R-O-V-I-S-E."

"Improvise starts with an I," Stacy said.

Patty waved that aside. "Mark Twain said it's a damn poor mind that can only spell a word one way. Anyway, Stacy, does your mom still have that fuck-me dress she wore to the banquet last year?"

"That's not what it's called," Stacy protested.

"You know the one."

"No, I don't know the one. What exactly is a fuck-me dress, anyway?"

"That red one. Low in the front, lower in the back, slit up the side."

"That was her Realtor of the Year dress!"

"Yeah. Same dress."

"You are all so disturbed. That's my mother."

"There's a reason the song is called 'Stacy's Mom.'"

"Yeah, if it were called 'Claudia's Mom,' we'd be asking her for the dress."

Somehow, that made sense.

Stacy called her mother.

Of course Jeannie could borrow the dress.

Now they needed something for Mills.

Bruce Janger owned a tux. Bruce went to sports banquets. Jonathan Mills was not built the same, though. He stood a head shorter than the other guys.

Mills had probably never worn a tuxedo in his life.

"Maybe he won't notice," Stacy said.

"Hopefully, the clothes won't stay on long enough for him to trip over a cuff and kill himself," Patty said.

"Improvise." Claudia raised a fist. "Give me an E!"

That solved most of the logistics. The meal would be easy enough.

Now they needed a limo.

"Do limousines have to be black?"

They went to the best source they knew: Jonathan Mills himself.

He looked it up on Wikipedia.

"No," he said. "Technically, a limousine can be any car driven by a chauffeur."

"Does the driver have to be a guy in a doorman's uniform? Or can it be a smoking-hot chick in a red Mustang?"

Mills thought about it. Consulted Wikipedia.

"No," he said. "But the hat is mandatory."

Woo-hoo!

They could afford a hat. Things were coming together nicely.

***

The hotel manager eyed the three young women in cheerleader uniforms.

He pictured spray-painted walls, holes in the ceiling, and the entire floor smelling like a brewery. He considered asking for an additional deposit.

Then he remembered Coach Blake over at the college.

Coach Blake was a regular, if discreet, customer, and the manager knew he was serious about his no-smoking, no-drinking rule. So maybe it would be ok.

He handed the girls a key.

"Top floor."

***

"This is nice," Rainbow said.

She opened the sliding door to a little balcony overlooking the parking lot.

"At least it doesn't overlook the dumpsters in the alley."

She began arranging a quiet table for two.

Patty stripped the bed. She was a little disgusted by the stains on the mattress beneath, but she hurriedly covered them with black satin sheets before any of the other girls noticed. Then she went to help Brandy set out candles in the bathroom.

Rainbow was in charge of multimedia.

Nothing would be left to chance.

She found the stereo, erased the old playlists, and added her own. No techno. Nothing fast.

Mills had a habit of, uh, arriving early. He didn't need any provocation.

Rainbow also deleted anything with sad or mournful lyrics. It was not that kind of date. The playlist was proving a little more difficult than it had seemed.

But hooray for Marvin Gaye.

Rainbow simply set "Let's Get It On" to play after every other song.

Now for the television.

She opened the cabinet and grabbed the remote.

"Let's see what's on pay-per-view."

Brandy and Patty finished setting up the bathroom. Milk bath, rose petals, perfumed oils, lube in every flavor, and candles on every exposed surface.

They stood back, hands on hips, admiring their handiwork.

Then, from the bedroom--

"Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah, baby! Put it in my ass! I'm gonna come!"

"What the hell?"

Had Mills and Jeannie already started?

They burst into the bedroom and found Rainbow sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, eating Cheetos.

On the screen, Donnie Wang was applying ten inches of samurai steel to Suzy Skirts.

"What the hell?" Patty asked.

"Anal Destroyers, Volume 7," Rainbow said, gesturing toward the television with orange fingers.

"I don't think Anal Destroyers is the right mood piece for tonight's playlist. Did you rent that?"

"Well, maybe... just a little."

"How do you rent just a little of a movie?"

"I just accidentally clicked the button," Rainbow said. She patted the bed beside her.

"Come see."

Brandy sat beside her and grabbed a handful of Cheetos.

Patty joined them.

On the screen, Suzy demonstrated her flexibility by placing both palms flat on the floor.

The Wangmeister demonstrated his inflexibility.

Handfuls of Cheetos paused halfway to mouths.

Brows furrowed.

On the screen, Suzy cried out.

On the bed, the entire row of cheerleaders flinched at once.

"Ooh-ee, ooh-ah--ouch," Rainbow said under her breath.

***

The red Mustang limousine arrived at Jonathan Mills's house at 6:45.

Claudia Bush, dressed in a smart black suit and chauffeur's hat, opened the door and addressed him as Mr. Mills. Escorted him to his awaiting chariot.

He looked reasonably dapper in his borrowed tuxedo, even with the cuffs and sleeves rolled up and stapled in place.

Jonathan's father beamed from the upstairs window.

Then they collected Jeannie.

She looked stunning. She filled out Rachel Charm's dress in exactly the right places. Her hair was swept up off her neck, and Rainbow had painted her nails to match the red dress exactly.

Someone had even thoughtfully provided flats to keep her from being taller than Jonathan.

Claudia smartly opened the door and helped her into the back seat.

Jonathan presented her with a single red rose.

So far, so good.

They went directly to the Holiday Inn.

Claudia escorted them to Room 222.

Adonis Smith, wearing black slacks and a starched white shirt, met them at the door.

"Ah, Mr. Mills," he said. "Your table is ready."

He escorted the couple to the little bistro table on the balcony.

The sun had set. Lights were coming on all over Aloha.

Adonis seated Jeannie, then Jonathan.

"Your waiter will be with you in a moment."

He left.

A moment later, Stacy Charm entered wearing a black skirt and white shirt.

"Good evening. Could I start you with a cocktail? Perhaps a glass of Chablis?"

"No, thank you," Jonathan said.

That was fortunate. All they had in the minibar was a can of Sprite and a Coke.

Stacy presented them with folded paper menus. Brandy's Italian Kitchen was printed smartly across the front.

Pizza con salame piccante and pizza al formaggio were the only selections.

"May I suggest the formaggio?" Stacy offered.

Jonathan looked at Jeannie and smiled.

Jeannie smiled back.

"That sounds fantastic," Jonathan said.

Stacy wrote the order on her pad and left them alone for the time it took the Pizza Rio to drive the delivery across town, with an extra for the waitstaff.

When she returned, Jeannie and Jonathan were holding hands and talking quietly.

She placed gold-rimmed paper plates of pizza in front of them.

"Bon appétit."

While they ate, Bruce Janger and P. J. Karparti serenaded them with a surprisingly harmonious a cappella rendition of "'O Sole Mio."

The girls listening from the hallway filed this information away. It was something they hadn't known the guys were capable of. In all the years they had known them, they had assumed the full extent of their musical abilities was armpit farts and air guitar.

The song came to an end.

Dinner came to an end.

Rainbow had slipped inside and lit all thirty candles.

Stacy cleared away the plates. Bruce and P. J. stood to one side, beaming. Stacy joined Adonis and Rainbow by the door.

The silence began to grow awkward.

"Uh," Jeannie said at last, "I love every one of you guys, but I hope y'all aren't planning to stand around and watch."

No one moved.

She made a shooing motion.

Finally, they took the hint and moved into the hallway.

"You could take pictures," Bruce suggested as Stacy shoved him through the door.

"Absolutely not," Jeannie said.

She was blushing furiously, but she was laughing all the same.

She saw that Jonathan was blushing, too.

He took her hand.

They turned out the lights.

***

It was eleven o'clock.

They were sitting quietly on the hallway floor.

Rainbow had listened at the door earlier. She had heard Marvin Gaye and given the group a quiet but enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Now the pizza was gone, and most of them were dozing.

Patty Lightfoot was drooling on P. J. Karparti's shoulder.

They were just about to call it a night when Claudia received the text.

Three simple emojis that explained the world:

An explosion, a peach, and a missing cherry.

On the second floor of the Aloha Holiday Inn, a cheer went up. There was always a "cheer" in "team."