Can he get Becca to help?

Still clutching the ball in his fist, Hillman silently prayed to Becca for help.

On the ground, he saw Brad and his cronies looking down at him with contempt. Then, Becca stepped forward, holding Brad's arm.

"Don't be silly, Brad," she said. "You know I've got a nice ass. In these jeans everyone knows it. Hill and I have known each other since we were kids. He was just trying to give me a compliment. Don't take it the wrong way."

"You're not kids any more," Brad said. "And you're my girl now. I don't want anyone saying those kinds of things about you. Uhh, at least not anyone else but me."

First giving Hillman a strange look, Becca was able to drag Brad away, followed by his cronies. Hillman got up, dusted himself off, and headed for the ice tub full of beer and pop cans. He reached for a beer, then realizing it might be better not to consume any **** while experimenting with the ball, he took a 7-Up instead.

He found a spot by the garage where he could observe the large crowd in the yard yet be by himself.

Brad and Becca were on the porch. Brad, joking with his buddies and downing one beer after another, while Becca looked on. Across the yard was a group of jocks surrounding Cheryl, the head cheerleader and generally considered the best looking girl in the school. Sitting on the concrete in the shade of the porch were Paula, Cheryl's younger sister, and Reena, the only black girl on the cheerleading squad.

Hillman opened his fist, staring at the small black ball lying in his palm. "Well," he said to himself. "This is something I've dreamed about my whole life. It would be nuts not to use it. But who do I try it on first?"