Grouper's Laws by D. Philip Miller

Author:D. Philip Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The sun blazed like a new rivet. In the distance, the tents of ten thousand Turks dotted the endless sand. At the top of a rise, Thomas Edward Lawrence sat poised on his white stallion, long rows of mounted cavalry to his right and left. He raised his arm and a restless murmuring issued from the assemblage. When he let it fall, a mighty shout ripped the silence and an army of Bedouins descended upon the barren plain, caftans billowing. A swarm of dark and deadly moths.

In the darkness of the theater, Blondie’s soul fused with that of the celebrated Lawrence of Arabia.

He was at the head of that pack, his courage a mountain, his resolve granite. He’d been born to lead, to dare the heroic, to change the world. He knew it.

The movie ended and the lights came on.

“That was neat,” Flossie gushed.

Her comment annoyed him. What Lawrence had accomplished wasn’t neat. It was colossal. She hadn’t understood. For her, the movie was entertainment. For him, it was destiny. Blondie was sure a girl like Tammy would understand the fever in his brain, his great need to elevate himself above the crowd. He was just as sure Flossie never would.

He’d driven most of the way to Baltimore not just because Lawrence of Arabia was too new to be showing at the Marylander, but because he didn’t want to be seen with her. Whenever anyone asked him about Flossie, he told them he “dated her sometimes” and let on he was “playing the field.” His desire to keep his love life hidden had become even more imperative since he’d asked Phyllis to the prom, a piece of news he’d yet to share with Flossie.

He couldn’t deny it — he was using her. He told himself the kind thing to do would be to let Flossie go. Their lives were headed in different directions. They had different dreams. But he couldn’t cut the cord. He’d become a sex junkie.

Ever since his first night with Flossie at the quarry, he’d been infected with a virulent case of lust. He couldn’t get enough sex. The best explanation he could reach was that his body was trying to recover from years and years of virginity.

When Flossie invited him over to “watch television” the next weekend — letting slip that her parents would be gone — his fledgling inclination to do the right thing got trampled by his runaway libido.

“What’s this girl’s name again?” his mother asked when he told her his plans for the weekend. Blondie knew she knew. She was just irked that he’d never brought Flossie over to the house to meet her.

“Are you sure she’s a nice girl?”

“What’s the test?”

“Don’t be a smart aleck, Bernard. You know what I mean? Does she have nice parents?”

“I suppose.”

No way was he going to tell his mom he was spending the evening at a girl’s house with her five-year-old brother as chaperone.

Blondie’s next assignment for the school newspaper was Fenton’s first home baseball game.

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