For the most part, Helen remained good-natured and down to earth about her sudden celebrity status. She declined all interviews and answered every ambush attempt with a simple "no comment". She went about her normal, day-to-day business of teaching students how to fly, shopping for food, and going to practice and games for her softball league. Reporters followed her around endlessly, even going so far as to pose as normal spectators at the softball games, shoppers in the grocery stores, or prospective students looking into flight school. Their goal was to befriend her and get her to admit that sexual involvement was taking place. She generally spotted such lame attempts within the first few seconds and excused herself from the conversation. Even if she didn't key in that the friendly person she was talking to was actually a reporter, she did not admit anything to anyone.
All of that was pretty much irrelevant now, however. As of six days before, Jake was officially a licensed pilot. He had taken the written test and then gone up with an FAA certified evaluator in order to demonstrate his abilities. The flight had lasted almost two hours and the evaluator — a decrepit, steely-eyed man who looked like he might've once gone head-to-head with the Red Baron — put him through the paces with uncompromising rigidity. He had entered the cockpit with the pre-conceived notion that Jake had bribed and fucked his way through flight school. He was proven wrong. Jake performed every task with precision and passed every test thrown at him. The evaluator was impressed enough to shake Jake's hand after the final landing and apologize for assuming incompetence.
"No problem," Jake told him. "If you're actually sincere about this, however, why don't you go over and tell those assholes how well I did?" He pointed to the gaggle of reporters, photographers, and camera operators who had been tipped off by someone in the FAA bureaucracy that Jake would be taking his test flight today and had gathered in force — no doubt hoping to see Jake's airplane crash and burn, or, barring that, for him to break down in tears when he was failed.
The evaluator did just as Jake asked. He walked over and gave a small press conference, citing his credentials and experience and telling them that Jake Kingsley had performed every task asked of him extremely well and, in his opinion, was a fully qualified pilot. The group recorded everything said but none of them used the footage or the quotes in any way. They didn't want to print that Jake was a good pilot. Stories like that didn't sell newspapers or get people to tune into the news.
In any case, now that Jake was no longer a student, he and Helen were free to be caught in a compromising position since such a position was no longer compromising. This trip to Bodega Bay was not public knowledge yet, but it would be the moment that Jake filed his flight plan tomorrow and some clerk in the office leaked it to a reporter. It would take little effort for the press to check out the hotels in Bodega Bay and find that Jake and Helen were staying in one room while Matt and Kim were staying in another. Of course they didn't plan to actually admit anything when they were asked about it, but at least they didn't have to be as careful anymore.
The City of Ventura Softball Complex was located in the southern part of the small city. It covered more than three hundred acres of land and featured five different fields, all of which were professionally landscaped and equipped with lighting. The championship game between Helen's team, the Vixens, with a 12-3 record over the season, and their cross town rivals, the Dolphins, who were sporting a 13-2 record (although one of those losses was to the Vixens early in the season) was taking place on field number one. It wasn't hard to find that particular field. The bleacher seats were all packed to overfull and the parking lot was filled with media trucks. Camera crews had set up all around the field to record the action and the scorekeeping booth had been all but taken over by the ESPN play-by-play crew and their assistants.
"What a fuckin' zoo," Matt complained as they were forced to park in field three's parking lot, nearly a quarter mile away.
Fortunately, as friends of one of the players, they had three seats reserved for them just behind home plate. After claiming their seats they walked down near the home team dugout to say hello to Helen. Camera crews and reporters, noting their arrival, crowded around them, filming and snapping away.
Helen was out on the field, warming up for the game by tossing the softball around with three of her teammates. She was dressed in the standard uniform of white shorts, a maroon jersey with her last name and the number 18 on it, and a pair of cleats. She saw the commotion and trotted over to greet them.
"Hi, guys," she said, ignoring the cameras and reporters. "Glad you could come."
"It's nice to see you again, Helen," Kim said. "You look cute in your uniform."
"Thanks," she said. "You're looking cute too."
"What about me?" Matt asked. "No compliments for me?"
"You're adorable, Matt," she said. "Even if you did let a girl outdrink you."
Matt frowned in embarrassment. At the party Jake had taken Helen to at Matt's house, the two of them had gotten into a drinking contest. Helen had won it, remaining awake and coherent for nearly fifteen minutes after Matt passed out from overindulgence. "You caught me on a bad day," he said. "I had an empty stomach and I'd just gotten over a cold. We'll have a rematch one of these days."
"I'll be looking forward to it," Helen said. She turned her attention to Jake, offering him a flirty smile. "Did you find your seats okay?"
"Yep," Jake confirmed. "Right behind the plate. Are you gonna kick some ass out there?"
"You know it," she said. "I'd better get back out there. We're gonna start in about ten minutes."
"See you after the game," Jake said, giving her a little wave.
"Yep," she said brightly, trotting off onto the field, her sexy legs pumping, her large breasts bouncing, the ESPN cameras tracking her the whole way.
As soon as Jake and his companions turned back toward the stands, two reporters appeared from nowhere.
"Matt," one of them said. "What was that about a drinking contest? Have you actually socialized with Helen in the past?"
"Tell us about your relationship with Helen, Jake," another one demanded. "Do you still maintain there's nothing between you?"
Neither of them said anything. Not even 'no comment'. They went to the concession stand where, to their delight, they found that beer was for sale. Jake got the first round, paying for three twenty-four ounce cups of Miller Genuine Draft. They carried them back to their seats and settled in to watch the game.
Of course, it wasn't long before people began finding their way over to them. Most just wanted autographs or to take pictures of the famous trio. There were the others as well though. One man, who looked like a businessman dressed down for the evening, asked Kim if those orgasms on screen were really real.
"You've seen a lot of my movies, have you?" she asked him sweetly.