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My brother actually punched me in the package when I told him what Cindy and I had done. I hadn’t seen that one coming. Mom found me on the ground with my brother hovering over me.
“He fell down,” Greg said and then left me to catch my breath.
“I take it you deserved that one?” Mom asked.
“Yeah, I was bragging and being immature.”
“Did you learn your lesson?”
“Yes. Next time I’ll cover up,” I said.
I didn’t realize Grandma Dawson had seen everything. Somehow, mothers just knew when things were going to happen.
“His dad and uncle used to go at it all the time. They’ll grow out of it.”
“When?” Mom asked.
“In about twenty years,” Grandma Dawson said and walked away.
Despite some lingering pain, I decided I could get up and do the same.
◊◊◊
I got even with Greg: I found his hidden pecan pie and took it to my apartment for safekeeping.
Greg and I spent the rest of the day catching up. He told me he and Angie were going to make it. They’d had a long discussion about what they wanted, and agreed they desired to do it together. He was considering getting his nuts snipped to prevent any more accidents. I didn’t offer any advice, because I would be happy with a household full of kids.
Though I admit, I could see where three might be enough. Dad had teased me that he thought about getting a second mortgage just to feed me. If Angie didn’t have the job at the charity, and Greg wasn’t hustling to do massages, money would have been uncomfortably tight for them. The good news was that their housing and school costs were almost nothing, based on their income levels, and the school also subsidized their daycare expenses.
As the day wore on, Mom put out everything anyone would need to make a turkey or ham sandwich, and people ate as they got hungry. Then our guests began to filter out. First to go were Beth and Carl, and then Cindy and Kevin. Tami and her mom were next. Greg and Angie loaded up the munchkins and promised to be at my game on Saturday.
My aunt and uncle, Grandma, Mr. and Mrs. A, and my parents talked me into playing cards with them around the dining room table. I broke out the last bottle of scotch from my trip to the UK. All the women except my grandma drank sangria my mom had made. I had a small glass of scotch.
My grandma got a little drunk and began to tell stories on my dad and uncle. She told one about them being arrested by the county sheriff when they were found naked with the local preacher’s daughters. I said I would have to add that to my list of things to do, and was promptly sent to my apartment.
I had to get up to take my finals tomorrow, so it worked out for the best. Plus, my hound wanted to go to bed.
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Chapter 14 – Sometimes You Just Need to be the Hero Friday November 27
Duke and I wandered into the kitchen to find my dad and uncle nursing their coffee.
“Good morning!” I boomed in a cheerful voice.
“We could bury him somewhere,” Uncle John suggested.
“If his mother wouldn’t have missed him, I’d have done that a long time ago,” Dad said.
“I was going to make breakfast. I just love runny eggs soaked in grease. Would you guys like a plateful?” I asked.
I think Uncle John might have thrown up in his mouth, while Dad flipped me off. They may have had too much scotch last night. Mom waltzed in.
“Did you offer them green eggs and ham?”
“Runny eggs soaked in grease,” I admitted.
“Make me up a batch. They can watch me eat it,” Mom suggested.
That cleared the room. I made bacon and scrambled eggs with toast. Grandma and my aunt joined us.
I didn’t see my dad or uncle again before I left for school.
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My first final was in PE. Coach Diamond spotted me as I worked out. He compared how I did at the start of the semester and now. I’d gotten stronger, so I received an ‘A.’
My next test was AP Trigonometry with Miss Lowden. Halle had the same class, and they put us in a conference room near the teacher’s lounge. I soon found my preparation had paid off. I didn’t have any trouble with any of my finals.
At lunchtime, I took Halle to my house and introduced her to my grandma, aunt, and uncle. I made grilled cheese with ham sandwiches and tomato soup. When we finished eating, Halle wanted to talk about LA.
“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a snob, but in LA, you’ll need to dress better,” Halle said.
I just smiled and took her to my apartment. Halle had never been through my closet before. She blushed when she saw my selection of clothes. I had plenty of trendy things from Jade and fancier stuff from Dakora. I’d also gotten lots of clothes from my trips to New York and Chicago. My wardrobe even included dressy clothes from Range Sports. I’d always felt more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt. I’d reverted to wearing more casual clothes this year, so Halle hadn’t really seen me in the clothes I got from photo shoots.
“Why don’t you ever wear this stuff?” Halle asked.
“What do you see everyone else wearing?”
“I guess, but will you be okay dressing up in LA?”
“Of course I will. I want to fit in, and I promise not to embarrass you.”
“Can I pick out what you’ll bring with you?” she asked.
Why do women want to dress us? I just shrugged. We didn’t have time then because we needed to get back to take the rest of our tests. But I promised she could come over after we were done and pick out clothes. I’d learned my lesson and would check everything before I left. Halle would have to do it on her own because I was to talk to Coach Mason and Coach Diamond after I was done with my tests. Then we were all going to State for a quick walk-through practice.
Our last test was Art–Life Drawings II. Halle had her painting to turn in; I hadn’t seen it yet. Even though I knew it was of me, I was shocked to see how good it was. If I hadn’t known that Halle had painted it, I would have thought it was a real piece of art. She’d captured me as I casually sat on the couch with Duke at my feet. I had a little smirk on my face as if I knew a secret of some kind.
“What do you think, David?” Ms. Saunders asked.
“The painting draws me in with the little smile and makes me wonder what he’s thinking. Halle has captured a very lifelike representation of her subject matter. I like how she used the repeating pictures above the subject without making them repetitive by varying their size and subject matter. I’d say this is the best painting I’ve seen by a high school student,” I surmised.
“See how she used shadows here and here,” Ms. Saunders pointed out. “That little extra gives the painting much more depth. I agree with David’s assessment: this is the best painting I’ve seen done by a high school student in any of my classes over the years. You both get ‘A’s.”
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After practice, we were having our second annual awards banquet for football. Last year, the Booster Club had sponsored the event and unveiled the plans for the Field House. This year it was being held at my dad’s country club again. When I arrived home, there was a note that said my parents would meet me there.
I’d been sent a text that Dakora had started their marketing campaign in which I was featured. It was a tie-in for my movie. The studio had also increased their ad buys. Between the two efforts, my likeness was now in both print and TV ads.
I felt obligated to wear one of my Dakora suits. I picked the most conservative one, found the tie that matched it, and selected a crisp white dress shirt. The sport coat was a dark charcoal gray with a touch of dark red stitching on the breast pocket. The tie was designed so that the knot was the same red as the stitching, and the rest of it was the charcoal color of the suit. Dakora had made the necktie especially for me because the original one was too short. It was a pain in the butt to tie because it required you to do it just right to get the knot to be all red. My belt and shoes were from Louis Vuitton and had an alligator-skin design stamped into the black leather.