Tutelage

"To say hello from the other side," Jared smiled and opened the front door of the trailer.

"See? Told you, it's stupid," Cindy squealed, slapping Jared's muscled arm.

"To say...I don't get it," Tim said as the door closed behind the couple.

Tim looked up the lyrics to the song and shook his head. Yes, it was stupid, silly, but with that stupid joke, Jared had let Cindy know he knew something about the music she liked. Jared had not said he liked Adele, but he had let Cindy know he knew who Adele was, knew of her music.

With one last look at his poor attempt at his beard and mustache, Tim lathered his face and scraped off the scruffy looking facial hair. He looked through his clothes and didn't like much of what he found.

"Oh! Well, thank God you shaved that stuff off your face," Peggy Knudsen, Tim's mother said when she came home from another day of work at Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store. "You're too handsome to be covering that face all up."

"Mom, I get a few bucks get a haircut?" Tim asked.

"I, uh, when you say haircut..." Peggy asked.

"Haircut. You know, scissors, barber's chair," Tim clarified.

"You're not going get one of them stupid shaved sides, are you?" Peggy asked, suspicious.

"No. Actually? Was kind of thinking, you know, like Uncle Dan?" Tim suggested.

"A flat top?" Peggy asked, pulling two twenties from her wallet.

"Yeah, that's what it's called?" Tim asked as he pocketed the two bills.

"Where's your sister?" Peggy asked, looking at the basket of unfolded clothes.

"Date. Think they said Bully Burgers," Tim said.

"Uh huh, and just left..." Peggy complained.

"Know what? I'll take care of them," Tim offered.

Tim was proud of himself; he thought to check the washing machine. Sure enough, Cindy had left a load of clothes waiting to go into the dryer. And, without being prompted, Tim cleaned the dryer's lint trap.

An unattended consequence of getting off his ass, prying himself loose from the incredible suction of the couch was Tim had to fold his sister's panties. At least, Tim hoped these were Cindy's panties. He could not bring himself to think of their five foot four inch, one hundred and eighty three pound mother wedging herself into the miniscule thong panties. No matter whose panties he was holding, Tim developed an embarrassing erection as he folded the skimpy garment.

Walking the three blocks to the barber shop, Tim saw one barber and five guys waiting. When the grizzled old barber finished with his current customer, he waved the next in line back to the bench, claiming he needed to hit the head, then sweep up the floor.

"I'll sweep it, if you'll take five bucks off my cut," Tim quickly offered.

"Got it, kid," the man agreed as he hustled to the bathroom. "I swear, God damn prostate."

Tim made quick work of the sweeping. After the next customer, Tim did not wait to be prompted; he grabbed the broom and dustpan.

"Tell you what, boy, on the house," the barber said when Tim told him he wanted a flat top. "Tired of you God damned kids wanting a fade or a wave or whatever the hell it is these days."

Returning to the house, Tim took the warm clothes out of the dryer and folded them. Cindy came in while Tim was busy with a pair of her jeans. Her mouth curled into a sneer and prepared to unleash a volley of insults. Then her hard brown eyes opened and she looked at him.

"You, you got a haircut," she exclaimed.

Tim was about to respond with a sarcastic response. Then he simply nodded and ran his hand over the top, feeling his bottle brush hair. He smiled at Cindy, then finished folding her jeans.

"It's cute," Cindy said, jerking the full basket from his hands.

"Thanks," Tim smiled. "Oh, hey, I put five dollars gas in it, I borrow your car?"

"Where you going?" Cindy demanded to know.

"That Goodwill? On Roberts?" Tim said.

"When you going? I'll go with you," Cindy said.

"Oh my God, I'm in the Twilight Zone," Peggy quipped from the kitchen where she was eating a frozen pizza. "He's doing housework and you're offering go ANYWHERE with him?"

"Tomorrow morning?" Tim suggested.

"Ten thirty," Cindy agreed, lugging her clothes to her bedroom.

Taking Cindy with him was a stroke of great fortune. Tim would not have noticed the stain on the blue pullover. Tim certainly would have overlooked the pink and green striped pullover. The deep green button down shirt that Cindy found wedged on the Women's' rack was a true find.

"No, no, I don't care what the tag says, go try these on," Cindy ordered, pulling Tim toward the fitting rooms.

"No. No. No; those? Makes your ass look saggy," Cindy nixed a pair of jeans. "Here, try these, okay?"

Tim found thirty two dollars' worth of clothes and a seal of approval from his sister. She grabbed five dollars of his change and bought herself a pair of low rider jeans and a pair of Daisy Duke shorts that showed off too much of her backside.

Home again, Tim put on his nicest shirt and the pair of khakis Cindy had found for him. Then he walked up the street to the Deubler Furniture & Appliances Sweet Oak location. The older man nodded and tore off a pre-printed application form from a pad. The man nodded again with approval when Tim had his own pen with him.

"Kid, this is your lucky day," Edward Deubler smiled when Tim finished with the form. "Just had two guys quit on me at the last minute. Need you and Gar, hey, Gar! Come see!"

"Yeah?" Gar Loomis, a hulking African-American man asked, coming out of the warehouse portion of the store.

"This here's Tim, uh, Tim Knudsen," Edward said. "Take him back there and y'all load up the truck, huh?"

"Well, all right," Gar smiled.

"And get him a tee shirt; don't need him getting that one all torn up," Edward went on.

Tim and Gar were headed back to the Sweet Oak location before Tim even thought to ask how much he was being paid. Gar laughed and when Gar told Edward and Ralph Emerson, the manager of the Sweet Oak location, the three men laughed.

"Starting you out at twelve, okay?" Edward asked, striding to the door. "Believe this, Ralph? Kid didn't even ask what he'd be making."

"Boy, I tell you," Ralph agreed, slapping Tim on the back.

"So, I got the job?" Tim verified when Ralph wrote out the schedule for the rest of the week.

"Mm hmm, oh, and jeans are fine; long as they ain't got holes all through them," Ralph agreed.

"That's where you been all day?" Peggy asked when Tim wearily dragged himself home.

It was a rare day off when Tim saw Jared again. The sounds of sex roused Tim from a deep slumber. Walking past Cindy's closed door, Tim could hear his sister's squeaks and squeals and grunts. The bed springs were jostling loudly and the headboard was thumping against the wall.

"Oh God, you, you're killing me," Cindy screamed, then grunted and gurgled unintelligible sounds for the next few minutes.

"Hey! Cindy said you got a job?" Jared asked, casually strolling, nude into the kitchen.

Tim glanced at Jared's slimy cock, then noticed that Jared had no pubic hair. Tim also noticed that, flaccid, Jared's cock was slightly smaller than his own flaccid member.

He looked up as Jared rooted around in the refrigerator and came out with a no-name diet soda. Their mother only bought diet sodas; a losing battle since all Peggy Knudsen ate was carbohydrate laden foods.

"I uh, yeah. And when school starts? They're going let me switch from delivery to the floor," Tim agreed.

"Awesome," Jared said, rinsing the can off in the sink. "Talk to you later; Cindy and I are busy kissing."

"I uh, yeah, I see that," Tim agreed.

"Oh fuck, not my, God! Really? My ass again?" Tim heard Cindy groan as he walked past Cindy's door on his way to the bathroom.

"So, school?" Jared asked a few minutes later and Tim paused his video game.

"Yeah; finally a senior," Tim agreed. "I mean, shit, just turned nineteen, but..."

"Okay. And you get there; Cindy said you go to Bentsen?" Jared said.

"That, we ain't doing that shit no more," Cindy complained, walking quickly from bedroom to bathroom.

"Uh huh," Tim said, embarrassed that the sight of his sister's nude body had given him an erection.

"And you meet some girl?" Jared smiled as Cindy slammed the bathroom door closed.

"Yeah," Tim agreed, actually able to envision himself having the courage to talk to a few of the girls that attended Lloyd M. Bentsen High School.

"You're a virgin," Jared stated.

"What? The fuck I am!" Tim lied.

"Dude, even if you're not; I'm sure you been laid couple times," Jared coached. "Mm, say you and Jenny get to talking..."

"Jenny? Who's Jenny?" Tim asked.

"Don't matter," Jared said. "But you and Jenny, y'all get to talking, she comes on over here and y'all are in your room, 'bout to get naked."

"Uh huh," Tim agreed.

"You tell her, it's embarrassing, I mean, please don't tell no one, but you, you ain't never, I mean, you ain't even never had guts talk to anyone like her, but, aw shit, you, you're a virgin," Jared instructed.

"But I ain't," Tim lied. "I done it a bunch of..."

"Dude, shut up and listen," Jared said. "You tell Jenny you a virgin. She agrees to show you how. Here's the kicker..."

Tim looked over when he heard the toilet flush. Jared also looked toward the bathroom door. It opened, Cindy's leg came out, then suddenly jerked back and the door slammed shut again.

"Pay attention. Pay attention. She tells you 'kiss here' you kiss here. She says 'lick this' you lick this. Let her teach you how to fuck," Jared said earnestly. "Especially when it comes to eating pussy. Listen to what she's telling you."

"Eating...Jackson says only faggots do that shit," Tim declared.

"And Jackson's a fucking idiot," Jared laughed. "Just think about it for a minute. Only faggots eat pussy? That even make any sense? But, uh, let me guess, this Jackson guy? He gets so much pussy he had put up a revolving door on his bedroom, right?"

"You know him?" Tim agreed.

"And when Jenny's best friend mm Michelle comes up and says 'I heard you and Jenny did it' you just tell Michelle you and Jenny kissed and Jenny's an unbelievable kisser," Jared said. "Even if Jenny's one telling everyone y'all fucked, you go around telling everyone y'all kissed and she's the best kisser ever."

"Even if she's one..." Tim said and again looked when they heard the toilet flush.

"I mean it, you ain't doing it up my butt no more; shit hurts," Cindy barked, marching out of the bathroom, still nude.

"Let me go kiss it and make it all better," Jared smiled at Tim.

"Hey I uh, not that I was looking or nothing, but..." Tim stammered.

"I shave it," Jared smiled, anticipating Tim's question. "Anyone says anything about it? I ask them why they looking at my schlong. They like looking at my schlong? Maybe they want kiss my schlong? Yummy yum yum, open wide."

Jared sauntered to Cindy's bedroom door. He smiled at Tim, rapped once and entered Cindy's bedroom.

Tim resumed playing his game, but quickly lost interest. He mused over what Jared had said about telling a girl the truth; he was a virgin and really didn't know what to do.

He certainly couldn't tell Rusty or Jackson or Phat Pat that he was a virgin.

He remembered Cindy and Mary Catherine laughing about Zeke, Mary Catherine's boyfriend. They were laughing about how clueless Zeke was in the bedroom.

"I mean, Jesus! Fucker couldn't find a clit with a map and a neon sign saying 'You Are Here,'" Mary Catherine had laughed.

"Oh God, I oh damn it, I told you, oh, oh God you're killing me," Cindy wailed out. "Okay, shit, just, just go slow...Augh!"

Tim's cock swelled to full, aching erection as he listened to the sounds of sex, anal sex bleeding through the walls. He wondered if he dared to actually go up to any of the cheerleaders, or other popular girls and admit that he was a virgin and needed their help.

Nearly forty minutes later, the door of Cindy's room opened. Jared walked down to the bathroom and softly closed the door. A moment later, Cindy wobbled quickly from the bedroom and tried the knob of the bathroom door. Tim could see a trickle of semen oozing down the back of her left thigh. A larger trickle coursed down and she squealed then scampered to their mother's bedroom.

Jared exited the bathroom a moment later. He peered into Cindy's room and shrugged his shoulders. He entered the living room and smiled at Tim.

"Thing of it is?" Jared said, pulling his sunglasses out of his pocket. "Any of those guys say anything like, 'hey, you seen how Jared shaves his schlong?' Sooner or later, some girl's going hear all about it? She's going want see it for herself. Free advertising. How I met your sister."

"I told you, no more of that," Cindy complained as she marched from their mother's bedroom.

"Told you, an ass that beautiful?" Jared smiled and kissed her. "See you later?"

"Uh huh, but no more of that, hear?" Cindy agreed, then seemed to remember her brother was looking at her naked body.

Jared smiled as Cindy squealed and blazed to her bedroom. Tim smiled and nodded as Jared left their trailer.

"Pervert; sitting there looking at me," Cindy accused, now wearing her robe. "Why you not at work?"

"Right at forty hours," Tim shrugged.

The day before their senior year began, Rusty called Tim; they'd not seen one another the entire summer. Rusty had been working at Spoons, a local ice cream parlor, and Tim had been working at Deubler Furniture & Appliances. Rusty declared that he, Timmy, Phat Pat, Jackson, Darren and Schmidt were all to wear their 'Mortal Kombat' tee shirts for the first day of school.

"Dude, it's Tim, all right?" Tim said, but Rusty didn't heed Tim's words.

"Going be massive, Timmy," Rusty declared. "Hear? The Kombat Krew; we there to kick ass and take names, hear? Senior year! Massive!"

Tim pulled out the deep green button down shirt Cindy had picked out for him and ironed it. He also put a sharp crease in a pair of khakis. Looking in the mirror, Tim was glad he'd run down to the barber shop on Thursday and had the man refresh his flat top.

"And this year? No more of that fucking off and forgetting do my homework," Tim reminded himself as he admired his physique in the short, squat mirror over his dresser.

Delivering refrigerators and washing machines had whittled down Tim's paunch and had added bulk to his arms and chest. Arranging displays at the Sweet Oak location had added muscle to his formerly flabby thighs.

"Hey Cindy, come see," Tim called out.

"Uh huh?" Cindy asked, peering into his bedroom.

"Okay, the green shirt and khakis," Tim said. "Penny loafers? Or topsiders?"

"Mm, loafers," Cindy decided. "And you got that belt. I like your hair like that."

"Thanks," Tim smiled. "So, Figured what your major's going be?"

"Oh God no," Cindy whined. "Ain't even started yet and I'm 'bout lose my mind."

"Well, I wouldn't recommend English," Peggy sniped as she waddled past. "Can hardly speak it."

"What. Ever. Mother," Cindy snapped, flouncing to her own room.

In the morning, Tim saw Rusty, Schmidt, Phat Pat and a few new faces milling about in the parking lot of Lloyd M. Bentsen High School. The Sweet Oak, Texas heat was already building to an oppressive volume, even though it was still early morning.

Rusty Barnes had already been quite chunky and had been cursed with a plethora of acne. Tim suspected Rusty's job at Spoons Ice Cream Parlor had not helped one bit; Rusty's XXL Mortal Kombat tee shirt looked uncomfortably snug on Rusty's misshapen form. His face had patches of pimples and Tim could see that Rusty's brown hair was beginning to recede somewhat, even though Rusty was only nineteen years old.

Tim did not know where Phat Pat had spent the summer break, but looking at Patrick Mitchell's gaunt, pale face and spindly arms, Tim was willing to bet that Patrick had not ventured out into direct sunlight for much of the summer months. Alvin Schmidt wore his usual sneer of contempt as he leaned against the cinderblock wall of the school. The new faces also wore tee shirts emblazoned with video game titles.

"And I'm telling you, bitch's got them titties out and I'm creaming all over them," Rusty was declaring.

Tim saw the looks of annoyance on the faces of a few girls that happened past the gathering of video game idiots. He also saw the looks of scorn on the faces of many male students.

Tim shook his head at his own foolishness; why had he even been friends with these losers? And why had he never noticed the look of contempt, the look of annoyance they'd earned as they'd stood in the parking lot, talking bullshit about the female of the species?

"Don't need be a dick to them," Tim reminded himself as he walked right past his former group of friends. "Just don't need play their games though."

Apparently, none of his former friends recognized Tim as he walked right past them. Entering the poorly lighted main hallway of the school, Tim found locker #128 and put his combination lock on the locker. He took the thick notebook and an ink pen from the nylon mesh backpack; he knew he would not need any of his text books for the first day of class.

After the second bell, and right before the third bell, Rusty and Pat, Alvin, Jackson Brewsted, and the new acquaintances sauntered into the room, acting like they were too cool to even be there. Tim lightly shook his head at their foolish antics. They impressed no one with their arrogance.

Mrs. Ogelvie, a woman that looked nearly as old as the state of Texas closed the door of the room and began calling attendance. Rusty mumbled a nearly inaudible response to 'Barnes, Russell' and Jackson gave a similar response to 'Brewsted, Jackson.'

"Here," Tim said clearly when Mrs. Ogelvie called out 'Knudsen, Timothy.'

Tim smiled when Rusty and Pat whipped their heads around to glare at him. He ignored their disapproving looks and continued to scan the faces of his peers as the teacher called out the names.

"What the fuck, Timmy, huh?" Rusty accused when the bell for first period jangled.

"Dude, it's Tim, all right," Tim said. "See you; going be late for English."

"Timmy, dude, thought we was going wear our Mortal Kombat shirts, huh?" Rusty asked as Tim continued walking.

Ms. Watson looked askance when Tim answered 'here' to her calling his name. Tim was seated right in front of her, notebook open, pen at the ready. He was not slouched down in his seat, he was not clumped with his compadres against the wall nearest to the door. With a shrug, she continued to call attendance.

"Timmy, huh? Thought we was all going wear our Mortal Kombat, huh?" Jackson demanded.

"It's Tim, all right, Tim." Tim said. "And, no, I didn't feel like wearing a stupid tee shirt."

"Aw what the fuck ever, pussy," Jackson sneered, turning away in disgust.

In Physical Education class, Tim paused for the briefest of moments, then stripped out of khakis, dress shirt, and boxers. Then, feigning a casualness he did not feel, Tim pulled on a jock strap, covering his hairless crotch from view, then pulled on tee shirt and gym shorts.

"Knudsen, Timothy," Coach Vee called out, voice almost bored.

"Here, Coach," Tim said and the man glanced up from his green binder.

The pot-bellied, balding man looked at Tim, then looked over where Rusty, Patrick, Schmidt and a few others were lolling on the portable bleachers. He looked back at Tim, who was standing, dressed in appropriate clothing, ready to participate in the physical activities.

"Lewis, Anthony," Coach Byron Verstatch said.

"Here," another young man called out from the bleachers, feigning complete and utter boredom with the whole ordeal.

True, Physical Education was a guaranteed 'C' for simply saying 'here' when Coach Vee called your name. But why settle for a 'C' when just a little participation would garner an 'A' in the class? Tim participated when Coach Vee threw out the basketball.