Chapter 6
Smiling like he’d just won the NBA Championships, Carter Thomson emerged from the boy’s locker room amongst a group of guys entering the massive gymnasium for gym class. He felt freer than he had in months and relieved because he’d finally told Avery they were finished. Now it was a new, brighter day, and it was on to the next woman, who would hopefully be much more mature and sophisticated. Finding someone less controlling and manipulative than Avery would be good too.
Target number one on his list was Ms. Downing, the phys-ed teacher in her mid-twenties. Guys in school creamed their shorts whenever they saw her, but none of them had the balls to do anything about it because they were all too busy trying to get with girls their own age. After what happened with Avery, Carter thought it didn’t matter what a girl’s age was as long as it wasn’t his own.
Dropping out of the crowd, he kneeled down to re-tie his shoe while the other guys headed out onto the battery of volleyball courts set up in the gym. They grabbed balls and started knocking them back and forth over the net. The girls, who always took longer to change, would come out any minute.
“How many aces you gonna serve up today?” Ms. Downing asked, and Carter’s heart fluttered when he realized she was talking to him. Casually, he got to his feet and set his elbow against the bleachers as he glanced over at her. She looked like something out of a fitness magazine. Tight athletic clothing accentuated her curves. It couldn’t be easy to run with boobs like that, but they didn’t seem to slow her down at all.
“As many as I can,” he smiled. “But I think I’m much better at bumping. How are you?”
Ms. Downing rolled her head around her neck and stretched her calves.
“Pretty good today. A little tight here and there, but nothing a little exercise won’t iron out.”
This was the point where their conversations had always ended. Pleasantries exchanged, he would jog off and hide amongst the other students, never sticking his neck out to ask a personal question. Well, today had to be different. The only thing left was figuring out how to risk making his move.
“So how’d you end up becoming a gym teacher anyways?” Carter asked, and Ms. Downing’s face lit up. She brushed away a strand of blonde hair and put her hand on her hip.
“I’ll never get tired of hearing that question. For me, it was really a no-brainer. I’ve always been athletic, trying to push my body and my boundaries. That’s when we’re at our most human, when our bodies are in motion, working toward a common goal. So that’s what I want to pass on through my teaching. I want to get the most out of your young body that I can,” she explained, and Carter nodded thoughtfully.
“Yeah, I can understand that. When I’m playing basketball, I just get so revved up. It’s like something clicks on in my mind and sends me into overdrive. Totally exhilarating. With any luck, we’ll find a way to make it to the state championships this year. But who knows. We need to stop sucking first. Do you play basketball too?” he inquired.
Ms. Downing laughed and shook her head, suddenly becoming serious and grabbing the whistle dangling over her breasts. The girls had come in, and she glared and whistled at them.
“Go ahead and get started! What, do you need me to hold your hand? You know how to play volleyball. Been doing it since ya’ll was in the second grade,” she griped. Returning her attention to Carter, her smile reemerged. “Basketball? No, I was never tall enough. I’ve always been a field hockey player at heart. Let me tell you, there’s nothing like the feeling you get from grabbing that stick and whacking some balls around. It takes experience to be able to handle the pressure and feel the rhythm, something not a one of these girls can say she knows how to do.”
Though he watched her intently, Carter was caught up in his own internal struggle and missed most of what she had to say. What did older women want to hear? He needed to be suave and confident. There had to be something he could say to get her interested in him, to see him as more than just another high school boy. But he drew a blank and resorted to asking more questions.
“So field hockey, huh? I’ve never tried it. Sounds interesting though. Why don’t you do some kind of demonstration for us someday?”
Again smiling and showing off her sparkling white teeth, Ms. Downing leaned in and pushed lightly against his arm. Strands of blonde hair drifted over her eyes. A volleyball rolled by their feet, but neither of them did anything about it.
“You know, that’s not a bad idea. I bet you’d get the hang of it real quick. That sturdy build and those strong arms, sculpted calves and thighs. I don’t think you’d have any trouble at all,” Ms. Downing said.
Carter noticed he was starting to sweat. This conversation just wasn’t getting him anywhere. He felt the urge to leave, hoping she wouldn’t notice how in over his head he was. Swallowing, he steeled himself and fought through it. He was Carter Thomson, a member of the basketball team. He could get any chick he wanted as long as he acted naturally about it.
“Yeah, field hockey sounds intense. I bet we’d all have a great time watching you show us the ropes,” he stuttered.
Ms. Downing, ruffled, blinked rapidly for a moment and exhaled. She scrunched up her lips and looked at him again.
“You know, Carter, I hate to say it, but field hockey isn’t for everyone. Most of these guys wouldn’t last ten minutes up against me. They’d be floundering around with the ball and lose it before they ever got close to the goal. As soon as you give ‘em a stick longer than six inches, they just have no idea what to do. It’s much better to teach someone in a more personal setting.”
If only he could figure out if she had any interest in him, he’d have it made, but listening to her gave him nothing. Truth be told, he had no idea how to play field hockey, and so that made it difficult for him to follow what she said. He nodded slightly and chuckled, trying to make it seem like he understood. Ms Downing rolled her eyes and shrugged, looking incredulous, which Carter interpreted to mean he was boring her. He’d have to dig deep into his fail-safe basketball stories to impress her now.
Loose Lips Sink Ships Page 8
