Double Twist

Chapter 159

“Some people have lives; some people have music.”
—John Green and David Levithan, Will Grayson, Will Grayson

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27 AUGUST 2021

What a crazy week already. It’s hard to keep up with things. I started late on Monday which didn’t help. But I really needed to take my time with Livy before Nanette took her to the airport. I barely got to school in time for orchestra. That meant I missed senior English, among other classes. Ms. Pixler, who I kind of like, scowled at me when she handed my opening essay back Tuesday morning and told me revisions had to be in by Thursday and if I’d been in class the previous day, I’d have known that.

I didn’t get a chance to review her comments in class but I glanced over it at lunch. WTF? There was more red ink on my paper than black ink.

I thought her comments were mostly petty and a lot of them were judgment calls. Then she had the gall to write a paragraph on the back that she was offended by my blatantly anti-American stance on the National Service and if I continued to write in this vein, I would find myself without an audience and writing letters on the walls of my prison cell.

Well, as Asimov said, “I certainly refuse to change the story to suit their whims.” Fuck that.

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“Did you guys get your summer essay marked up as badly as I did?” I asked Desi, Beca, and Britt at lunch. “It will take me an hour just to read her notes. It’s only five paragraphs, for God’s sake.”

“Ooh. She must really like you,” Beca said. “The only comment on mine was ‘Nice job.’”

“I got a paragraph on the back about how I should better incorporate my Hispanic heritage in my writing and not try to sound so mainstream,” Brittany said. “I have half a notion to tell her I’m Arab. It was kind of racist.”

“Mine had a bunch of grammar corrections and a note that said the paper was supposed to be based on an ‘actual’ accomplishment or event and not on my fantasy life,” Desi said. “I might hate this class.”

“What prompt did you respond to?” Beca asked me.

“Reflect on a time when you questioned or challenged a belief or idea,” I said. “You can imagine what I chose. I just talked about how disruptive National Service had become to families and relationships.”

“In five paragraphs? She probably thought it was incomplete,” Desi said.

“Yeah. I think I’ll keep hammering on it in other essays this term. You know? I’ll just write as if she was my biggest fan and agreed with every word I wrote.”

I handed my revised essay in on Thursday. I took to heart everything she marked as grammatical or construction issues and corrected them. As to the content, I read every sentence in which I’d expressed displeasure with the service and strengthened it, making it more declarative. We’ll see what she thinks of that.

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The whole crew came out to watch me run Saturday morning. The meet was the Huntington Invitational and seventeen schools were represented. I always loved this course because they did such a good job of laying it out and maintaining it. It had interesting terrain, a couple of hills, and was a dirt path all the way. No tarmac or concrete on this trail. The footing was good. Added to that, Huntington College had done some expansion to the course and now what used to be their five-mile course was a full 10k. It was a good day to run.

With the number of schools competing, each team was limited to seven runners per event. The top five on each team would score points. Only two schools didn’t produce a full team for all the races. Cross country had really become popular since Indiana had required at least one term of gym or athletic competition each year. In general, it was a cheap sport and didn’t interfere with classes.

Our best men’s and women’s 5k runners from last year had graduated. I wasn’t sure if we’d stack up in the top five in competition this year. There were five races. JV and varsity for both men and women, but no freshman competition, and varsity 10k. I noted there were half a dozen women competing in the 10k from different schools. We had one on our team but she wasn’t in the starting seven for this race.

I talked strategy with my team and got Cory Miser to agree to set the pace for the team. Jock fully believed the six-minute pace with a last kilometer kick would ensure the maximum number of places. We talked, though, and he agreed I could go out at a faster pace if I felt strong. I was feeling good and set my watch at 5:45. If I had any kick for the last kilometer, I believed I could break 35:00 for the 10k.

It was nice to have my pod mates all standing together cheering for me and throwing kisses—even Donna. I guess she figured there was safety in numbers and with eight women acting like race groupies, she was safe. I started my pace watch and was on it within a dozen strides after the starting gun. I wasn’t first hitting the trail, but the bulk of the 115 runners were still trying to get past the start line when I was on the trail. I’m usually really conscious of my teammates and try to encourage them to stick with me, but I knew none of them could maintain a 5:45 pace for more than a couple of miles so everyone who was ahead or near me was a competitor from another school.

My pace, and that of about a dozen other runners, would probably have put me in a scoring position at the end of 5k. Barely. But I was feeling strong and had only three runners ahead of me and one I could feel pacing me step-for-step behind. I decided to see if they could stand up to a little more pressure. I tapped on my watch and upped the pace to 5:40.

It doesn’t sound like much, but a five-second per mile increase in pace puts you twelve feet ahead of a runner that’s five seconds slower at the end of a mile. I started pulling up on the runners ahead of me a little at a time. One of them was having trouble maintaining his pace and the dang runner behind me was still step-for-step when we passed him at 7k. We were closing on the two leaders and I was wondering if it would come down to that last kilometer kick.

And, in fact, four of us entered the last kilometer almost stride for stride. This was it. I wasn’t sure how much I had left in my legs. My lungs were fine—I’d been training at ten to thirteen miles and this was only six-point-two. The guy who had led the whole race tried to kick with me but didn’t have it in him. The one following me slipped past him as well.

“Not gonna let you get away,” I heard her puff as we entered the bubble and put on our final sprint. Her! The runner who had been pacing me the entire race was a girl! I gave it everything I had as we entered the chute. I stumbled to a walk and she stumbled into me, grabbing my shirt to keep from falling. I turned to help support her.

“You… are… awesome!” I panted out. “What a great race!”

“My coach said you’d win and I needed to be on you the entire race.” I looked at her jersey and realized she was from Huntington North.

“Who’s your coach?” I asked, looking around. I saw him just as she answered.

“Glenn Patterson. When the team expanded this year, he took over the 10k team,” she said. We were handed our place cards and proudly held them up. Our times were only a second apart at 35:20 and 35:21. One step difference.

“Mr. Patterson,” I said as he came up to congratulate his runner. Jock was a step behind him and the rest of our team was still entering the chute. “You have a great runner here.”

“She’d be state champion if there was a separate girls’ division in the 10k,” Patterson said. “As it is, she’s going to show a lot of men they aren’t all they think they are.”

“She pushed me to my best today,” I said.

“Congratulations to both of you,” Jock said. “That’s the way races are supposed to look when top competitors duke it out. Congratulations to you, Glenn. I was surprised you were coaching cross country instead of soccer.”

“Both,” Patterson said. “We’re understaffed. Fortunately, I can split my focus between the 10k team and the soccer team.”

“I’m Jacob Hopkins,” I said, holding a hand out to the girl. She finally took her hand off my shoulder to shake.

“Lacie McPartland,” she said. “Are you going to run at Penn next weekend?”

“Oh. Um… no. I’m running the half marathon at Noblesville on Monday so I won’t run the Saturday 10k.”

“Too bad. I wanted to beat you!”

“I’m sure you’ll have other opportunities,” I laughed.

“Jacob! Who’s our new girlfriend?” Beca squealed as she hugged my sweaty body and turned to Lacie. I couldn’t answer because Desi had me in a liplock. Jock cleared his throat.

“Hugs only,” he said. “No PDAs at an event.” I’m sure he noticed that Donna held back a little while the rest of my girlfriends all got hugged and introduced to Lacie.

“We love fast girls,” Nanette said. Lacie blushed.

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“I love you,” I said.

“I love you, too. I miss you so much. I want to come home.”

“Just two more weeks, love. Two weeks and you’ll be back in my arms.” I know I sounded lovesick. I was. Rachel was a million miles away. Or in New York. Same thing. She’d spoken to everyone in the pod on speaker phone and then asked me to go to a private space for the two of us. The pod has always been accommodating to our special relationship and this Sunday night was no exception.

“I think I can last two more weeks, but I’m getting damned horny.” We laughed but I knew there was always the unstated option of Rachel having sex with someone else. “It’s not even that I find anyone here attractive like that. We’re pretty much an entire basic training unit of nerds. But so many of them suddenly cut loose all their repressed sexual energy that the dormitory reeks of sex. It’s hard to breathe without being affected.”

“You know it’s okay,” I said. It hurt a little to say it, but I knew deep down that it was okay. I just had to keep the old man shut up.

“Tell me about Remas,” she said.

“Um… She’s talented. She’ll be here Wednesday, though I’m not sure why. She’s done almost all of the arrangement already so I don’t really see a need for her to be here to watch us practice.”

“Oh, yeah. Don’t tell me you don’t know why she’s coming. Or hopes to be coming. Sophie is quite taken with her,” Rachel laughed.

“Well, I’ll let the girls audition her in that regard. I just want to hold you in my arms, lover.”

“Hold her in your arms for me,” she whispered. “I’ll have to audition her remotely. Now tell me you’re hard. I’m wet and I want to feel you sliding into me. What would you do first?”

That got us to the real reason for our private call. Like Em and I had done on many occasions, Rachel and I talked each other through verbal pictures of the two of us making love. We both had orgasms and breathed long sighs into the phone before we finally said goodnight.

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Sophie picked Remas up at the airport Wednesday afternoon for a long Labor Day weekend. I had to do a long run with the team Wednesday afternoon, shouting encouragement and getting them worked up for the meet on Saturday. Thursday and Friday would be light workout days for the 10k team. When they’d finished their six miles, I kept going at the six-minute mile pace we trained at for another four miles. I couldn’t quite keep the pace through the whole ten miles but ended up at an hour and five minutes. Not bad. If I could hold the pace for three more miles, I’d be running a great half. For Noblesville, I was shooting for a 1:45:00 finish. There were only three half marathons on our schedule plus the state final. I was glad Nanette was registering in all four races.

After I showered, I found one of my mates had packed all fresh clothes for me so I’d look refreshed when I got home. I had to chuckle since the outfit chosen was a sleek black one with a button-down shirt and my black Nikes. When I got to the truck, I reached in the back seat and pulled on my fedora. It was apparent my girlfriends wanted me to make an impression when I got home.

I carried my guitar case in one hand and had my backpack slung over the other shoulder with my gym bag hanging from that hand. I didn’t get into the house before my girlfriends mobbed me on the deck, hugging and kissing me, taking my bags, and even removing my shoes for me. When they cleared from in front of me, Remas was standing there, looking rather bemused.

“Impressive,” she said. “Do you always get greeted like that, Jacob?”

“Only when we have a guest to impress,” I laughed. “It’s good to see you, Remas.”

“Then give me a hug and come in the house,” she answered. That was new. Remas was very touchy-feely when we were in Washington, but it was always a hand on the shoulder or a touch of my hand. She was equally at ease with Cindy, Donna, Sophie, and Em. Getting a hug from her was interesting. I stood back and followed her into the house. Wow! She had a blue shirt on with a black sweater kind of thing over it. When she’d hugged me, I felt the soft squish of unfettered breasts against my chest. She wore a matching blue hijab. Below the waist, though, she was in skin-tight stretch pants that showed the exact shape of her butt. What a contradiction she was.

“I hope we managed things you can eat,” Donna said as we sat down to a fried chicken dinner. After my ten miles, I was starving. So much so that I almost didn’t grok the seating arrangement. I was at one end of the table with Beca on my right and Remas on my left. Donna was at the other end with Cindy on one side and Desi on the other. Sophie claimed the space beside Remas and Nanette managed to squeeze between her and Cindy. Brittany was on the other side.

“I don’t have any dietary restrictions,” Remas said. “This all looks great. I prefer not to eat pork, but that’s a taste preference, not a religious thing. And it doesn’t include bacon. I love bacon.”

“We haven’t talked enough to know what your preferences really are,” I said. “I hope you’ll let us know if we goof up.”

Remas heaved a big sigh.

“Um… It’s me who’s afraid of goofing up,” she said. “You did your audition in Washington. This is mine. I really wanted to meet everyone and see if I can work with you in the long haul. Sometimes musicians immediately cluster together and seem to bond, only to realize they are really in competition and don’t want anything to do with each other. You’ve hardly made any comments about the arrangement. I don’t know if I’ve done good or if you’ve chosen something else to perform entirely.”

“We’re not always so backward,” Beca said. “Five of us met you before. That leaves four at the table who are as anxious as you are over whether we are a good fit. Some of us don’t have the arts background you guys have. And then there’s Rachel, Livy, and Joan who are awaiting a call from us to see how things are going. At least Joan will be with us this weekend. We’ll talk to Rachel and Livy Sunday afternoon on their regular calls.”

“Do you have trouble keeping track of everyone?” Remas asked.

“I have a constant litany of my mates going on in my head,” Nanette said. “It’s been that way since the first day I met them. I whisper their names and think of where they are and ask God to bless them. I’m not particularly religious other than that. I just know that saying each of their names and asking a blessing keeps me close to them.” I looked at my oldest girlfriend with love in my eyes. This… this. Remas reached over and touched my hand as she smiled at Nanette. The gesture was repeated almost subconsciously around the table as we each reached out to touch one another.

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After dinner, Cindy, Desi, and I pulled a music stand in front of us and put the latest score up on Cindy’s iPad.

“I love that you don’t even print it!” Remas said. I noted her cello case in the corner of the room. We were going to do some jamming later. She really came prepared to audition.

“You know what I like?” I said. “I really like the way you started with the drone on the viol. Whenever I touch that string, it just vibrates in my chest. I don’t think it gets enough play time.”

“I can feel it, too,” Desi said. “It’s in a completely different register but it gives me my note when I come in. I can always tell when we’re in sync.” Cindy nodded. I looked to her and she counted out the beat and gave me my cue. The drone vibrated and a measure later, Desi’s vocalization joined me. It was magical when Cindy came in with the piccolo.

We played for a long time. We stopped and started. We discussed interpretations. At some point, Remas grabbed her cello to demonstrate something and then kept playing with us. The four of us were lost in our own world. I was aware of my mates stopping by and giving us kisses as they all headed for bed. Eventually, we let our instruments go silent. It was after midnight and I knew Nanette wasn’t going to let me get away without a run in the morning.

“I guess we should get to bed,” I said. “This has been a blast.”

“What’s the arrangement tonight?” Desi asked.

“We have the big bed in Donna’s room,” Cindy said.

“What about Remas?”

“We have the big bed in Donna’s room.” It took us all a heartbeat to understand what Cindy was saying. The pod had left the big bed for the four of us.

“You’re not obligated,” I said quickly. “Um… the three of us can all find room in other beds.” I showed Remas to the door of Donna’s room.

“It’s fine,” Remas said. “I expected some kind of communal sleeping arrangement. No one has to go anywhere else.” I noticed her suitcase was in a corner. But Cindy wasn’t through yet.

“You should know we all sleep naked,” she said and stripped off her shirt and bra. She was wiggling her jeans over her cute butt when Desi joined in and released her prodigious bosom from its confinement with a sigh. Remas grinned and looked at me. I pulled my T-shirt off, not sure what was being orchestrated.

Remas released a pin at the back of her neck and her hijab came loose. Then her shirt and jacket dropped to the floor. There was nothing but Remas under any of it. Desi and Cindy were naked and casually heading toward the bathroom. I hurried to catch up, not wanting to be left partially dressed with our guest. I made the mistake of looking up at her as I pushed my jeans and briefs down. She was in perfect sync with me and held my eyes as she stepped out of her trousers.

Holy shit!

 
 

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