When I took the test up to Mrs. Sinclair, she let a little smirk of triumph touch her lips.
“David, I’ll grade this now.”
She started working through the answers and scowled when she reached the end. I got a 98, bringing my overall grade to an A.
“Was this the same grade-level test you gave the rest of the class?”
She wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“Do you want to explain why you hate me?”
The fight went out of her.
“I’m embarrassed to say that the test was more advanced than the one given this morning. I was sure you’d fail it. How do you know this so well?”
“I have a tutor. I work hard to both play football and to get good grades. I think you confused me with some dumb jock.”
“I can see that by how well you did on the test. We only have a few more weeks together. Why don’t we do this: if you think you can keep up, I’ll ask you to only come to class for tests and quizzes. That way I won’t be tempted to cross any lines, and you can use the time as a study hall,” Mrs. Sinclair said.
I just nodded. She had it in for me for some reason. I would have to be careful not to give her an excuse. I debated whether to let it go or confront this before it became an issue. For purely selfish reasons, I wanted to leave it alone. I didn’t have the time to deal with it. My concern was that the next time a jock was in her class, she might flip out on them.
AT FOOTBALL PRACTICE, we found out that Wolf and Ed had been promoted to varsity. We now had three freshmen on the roster. Wolf was inserted as the starting tight end and Ed as a third-down specialist. Coach planned to limit the amount of exposure Ed had, for fear of injury because of his small size.
After practice, I met Cindy in the parking lot because it was time to go shop for clothes. I asked her to fill me in on what all we would buy.
“Jennie says you’ll need a suit of the best quality. We’re going to a tailor to get your measurements because Jennie plans to have your suit made. She’s picked out all the accessories: belt, wallet, shoes, socks, and so on. She’s also given specific ideas on outfits for the weekend.
“Now on Wednesday, we go back to try on the suit so that final alterations can be made, and then we pick it up Thursday. Oh, and we’re getting you luggage. You need something other than a duffle bag to protect your suit and clothes,” Cindy said, to fill me in.
We ended up in a larger town about 40 minutes away. There was an upscale mall where we found the tailor’s shop. I was surprised to see it was busy, with half a dozen people waiting. They had a greeter. Cindy told him that we had an appointment, and he said someone would be with us shortly. When we got waited on next, one of the men still waiting had a problem.
“I’m next. I’ve been waiting 45 minutes, and don’t have time. This kid can wait his turn.”
Cindy didn’t seem fazed, so I just went along with her. The tailor’s name was Phillip.
“Mr. Dawson, please follow me. We have a lot of work to do in a short amount of time. Sir, do you wish to have your assistant accompany you?”
I loved that Cindy was now my assistant. She gave me a look that told me not to push it.
“Yes, she has final say on everything selected today. So please ask her, because I don’t have any fashion sense. Also, no more Mr. Dawson, my name is David.”
“Good call, it’s better to admit it than to live with the mistakes we’re sure to make.”
“I can hear both of you,” Cindy said as she crossed her arms.
“Phillip, you’re on your own with this one. Just don’t embarrass me.”
We entered a room with mirrors on the walls and a raised platform in the middle. Phillip was suddenly all business.
“I’m going to have to ask that you strip down to your boxers. Some of the items need very precise measurements.”
“Will it be possible to make allowances in case I grow? I’d hate to get a suit and find that it doesn’t fit six months later.”
“I’ll make a note of that.” By now, I was in my boxers. “I take it you’re an athlete.”
“I play football. I would expect that my off-season lifting program will have an effect on my measurements.”
Phillip had me stand straight, and he measured over my arms and around my chest. He then measured my chest without the arms. He went through a series of measurements, from height to waist size to inseam to thigh and calf size. He then had his assistant bring in coats and pants to confirm his measurements.
Once he was comfortable with my body type and dimensions, he called Jennie.
“Miss Wesleyan, this is Phillip. I have just measured Mr. Dawson, and we’ve determined that the suit you’ve picked out won’t work. He has a more athletic build, and the suit selected wouldn’t contour to his body correctly.”
He went to great length to offer suggestions. They got on the Internet and were discussing different options when the tailor’s assistant came back in.
He had a rack of clothes for me to try on. They had everything from leather jackets to underwear. Phillip kept an eye on everything. If he liked something, he would have them put it on a separate rack. If he didn’t quite like something he saw, he would make a note and the assistant would run out to get something else. The whole time he was talking to Jennie.
About halfway through the rack, I reminded Cindy that we needed luggage. When Phillip heard that, he snapped his fingers to get his assistant’s attention and wrote a note. He scurried off, and we didn’t see him for nearly twenty minutes. In the meantime, Cindy decided that I needed to try on underwear. They both seemed to like the kind that looked like boxers but were more like spandex. They seemed to lift and push my package forward. I adjusted myself so they were more comfortable, and you could tell my religion. Somehow all the other underwear disappeared, and we were trying on pants.
Phillip’s assistant came back in with a set of black leather luggage that was unbelievable. Phillip gave a nod and made another note.
“What are your initials?” the assistant asked me.
Cindy answered.
“Please use ‘D squared,’ with the little two. His nickname is ‘Double D,’ so that would be appropriate.”
Phillip finally got off the phone. He and Cindy had me retry on several outfits and a few new ones. They called Jennie again. By now I was getting tired of being a Ken doll, and I put my clothes back on and snuck out. I found the assistant, whose name was Dennis, and we went to the break room and had a coke. I got a text from Cindy requesting my presence. I came back and Phillip was grinning.
“Thought you could sneak off?”
I just shrugged at Phillip’s question.
“Hey, I’d reached my limit.”
“Young man, you’ll learn it’s never that easy. We have mocked up a jacket and shirt. We need you to try them on.”
I put on what he asked and even I could tell the style fit my body. Phillip got excited and soon there was a room full of tailors fussing over me. After a few minutes, they gathered around Phillip and started giving him suggestions. His assistant Dennis was writing like crazy.
“We’ll need you to come back on Wednesday so we can confirm the suit will work,” Phillip said when they were done. “If we need a final fitting, we’ll have you come back on Thursday. Most of your outfit will be ready Wednesday.”
“Thanks, I’m sure this is a rush. I appreciate you working with us.”
Cindy had a good idea.
“Come on, I’m starving. I saw a mom-and-pop place on the way in. Let’s get some grease and head home.”
We packed up what was ready and headed out. The asshole who was waiting when we came in was still cooling his heels. We both broke up laughing as soon as we were out of earshot. We went to the diner and ordered. I got their meatloaf special and Cindy went for a burger and fries.