Steven. Crazy on You. Colin Palmer
to get him to do anything positive about it.
“Steven, would you like to give me an answer to this equation?”
Temple asked him in class the very next day. Steven was shocked, Temple had hardly said two words to him in class in almost a year, and now here he was asking him to act as if he was a normal member of the class. Steven looked at Temple and saw a glint of hope in his eyes. He shook his head and wondered how in hell punching somebody one day made him any different in maths the next but there was Temple, looking expectant and hopeful.
“Ah, Mr Temple, if you could just move away from in front of the board?. I’m sorry Mr Temple…”
Mr Temple resumed normality almost immediately, totally oblivious that he had placed such high hopes onto Steven just because he had slugged a bully yesterday when nobody had expected him of being capable of such actions. Temple realized he had clutched at straws, he knew Steven to be bright but as they say, you can’t lead a dead horse to water. Or was that flogging a dead horse? Whatever, it didn’t matter anymore, the boy was just as dumb as the Gillespie kid that he had punched. His attention in an instant, was on his more favoured students, knowing that the right answer was but seconds away.
Steven graduated from High School with excellent results. He excelled at athletics and ball games such as softball and cricket and got high distinctions for English (of course), Geography, Social Studies and History, distinctions for Science (“it was rigged”! ) and Technical Drawing, and a pass for Maths. Such was the education system at the time, because Steven sat for advanced classes, his maths exams were marked according to his student rating. He couldn’t fail even if he didn’t answer one single question! You just went down a level as far as your mark was concerned (or two levels in Stevens’ case). Steven was not amused to discover this fact as he knew he would have done the same for geography and probably tech drawing as well, and that way he would have had more time to do the things he wanted to do, like English, or girls.
He always maintained a bevy of girlfriends throughout school, they all thought he was cute and because of his slightly smaller than average statue, they probably believed he was quite innocent as well. Two or three of them knew better than that and if they talked as much as most girls seemed to, then more than likely quite a few other girls probably knew as well.
That Glenda Archer, she was a honey, tall and slim with beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes, but a surfie chick. He recalled first seeing her one Saturday night sitting on the brick fence around the Catholic Church with about six other girls and a couple of weeds hanging around them like flies, but there was something about Glenda that made him look twice.
He and a couple of friends had just come from the local servo where they had scoffed hamburgers and chips to satisfy the hunger perpetrated from sharing a bottle of Blackberry Nip. They had pooled their resources and got one of the other kids’ elder brothers to buy them the bottle ($3.95 plus the buck he pocketed as his, for expenses) from the local bottle shop. They had sunk the contents quite quickly behind the aforementioned church fence with all intentions of going on to the teenagers dance in the church hall next door but hunger had seen them go off to the servo first. And now, on their return, (minus Harry who had raced off to the toilet at the first sight of his burger) was this smorgasbord of girls with only a couple of weeds to deal with first.
“Oy, surfs up guys.” Steven said this as his way of introduction. Hardly any of them looked. Except Glenda that is. The weeds were doing their best to impress a few of the girls, and they didn’t let the presence of Steven and Hardy bother them for a second.
Brad Hardy was one guy Steven had time for. His parents were rich, he had an elder brother that played in a band and best of all, he had an elder sister who took an interest in Steven whenever he went over to visit. She had left school about two years ago and was either 19 or 20 when Steven first met her. Brad introduced him as Stag and Steven then spent a very fruitful five minutes explaining his name to her. He managed to progress onto english, and then social studies when he found out she was doing political science and law at uni. All in all, after being initially greeted as just a young friend of her little brother, she now found herself taken in by this somewhat precocious little man. He had a charisma that she could not firstly identify, and then realized afterwards that he portrayed himself as a boy when his mind and his eyes were that of a man.
Sarah Hardy, as most young woman her age did, wore short skirts almost exclusively during summer. And this first time that Steven met her she had little else on either except a bikini top. She stepped upstairs after saying “nice to meet you Steven” (very, very few, if any girls Steven met, liked to call him Stag) “we’ll catch up sometime and talk about federation”.
“Anytime” Steven told her as he watched her disappear upstairs, disappointed that she was going but elated at getting a glimpse up her skirt even if only to see that she was wearing bikini pants underneath and not knickers.
One afternoon, Steven and Brad were playing pool in the back rumpus room, while Sarah was sunning herself in the backyard, lying face down with her bikini top undone. Steven had seen better bottoms but the view wasn’t bad all the same; very few boys his age would see her as being anything other than an attractive and extremely desirable older woman. Steven bided his time, losing more often than winning against Brad as his mind was on something else. Steven knew she would have to turn over sooner or later and he wasn’t going to miss it.
About the fourth or fifth game, the phone began to ring. Brad started for it (the phone was in the kitchen) and Sarah turned her head, heard Brad saying “I’ll get it” and then rolled over onto her left side to face the house and Steven; without making any attempt to do her top up or cover herself in any way. As she propped herself up onto her left elbow, she looked directly at Steven.
“Like ‘em little man? I know you’ve been watching me”.
He stood there almost awestruck but answered immediately with his usual aplomb.
“Yeah, not bad at all” as if he seen hundreds of them.
She must have sensed the pitch of his voice was slightly higher than normal, the giveaway that he wasn’t as composed as he was trying to portray, so she reached up with her left hand and started rolling her right nipple (both of which were already erect Steven had noticed) between her thumb and forefinger.
“It’s Mum for you Sarah,” Brad called from the kitchen as he headed back to the games room.
She pouted exaggeratingly at Steven and reached for her top. She sat up and turned just as Brad reentered the games room.
“Sarah?” he called again
“I’m coming” she shouted.
Steven couldn’t help but think that he would like to help her do just that.
“She’s going the other way” he told Brad as he came up beside him. Steven watched her rump disappear out of sight through the sliding door into the dining room. Brad was more intent on seeing where the game stood to take any interest in what his sister was up to, but he did give Steven a sideways look as he remained standing at the doorway.
“You perving on Sarah?” he said.
“She has nice tits” was Stevens’ reply.
“You should come over on some Fridays or Saturday nights when she brings a guy home” said Brad, and Steven looked at him in a new light.
“You sly perv, checking out you your own sister.