The end of the day

You can't get the thought of Jacklyn blushing cutely in your front seat out of your head. You get through the rest of your day without your teachers scolding you, but your brain just isn't in the game today. During your last class, you completely daydream about Jacklyn, until Miss Kemstad, the lovely young German teacher, clears her throat near your desk during the ten minute study period at the end of the class. You shake yourself out of it and crack your book to read a bit.

When the final bell rings, the teacher says to you as everyone else is leaving, "You seem distracted. Do you need some detention tonight?"

"Oh, no, Miss Kemstad. I apologize -- it won't happen again." You grab your books and leave.

You head to your locker first, exchange books, and then head to Jacklyn's locker. She is leaning against the wall, waiting. She brightens up when she sees you approach.

"Hi there, Jacklyn. You ready?" you say with a grin.

She nervously nods and quietly says, "Yes, Jack." That is the first time she's ever said your name. She makes it sound good.

You walk out of the school, Jacklyn walking beside you with her books clenched in her arms and pressed against her chest, like you are going to rip them out of her hands. You continue to make small talk, and she continues to respond with just a few words. You get to the SUV and open the door for her like a gentleman, offering her a hand up to the high step and seat. She takes the help and smiles appealingly. Then you get into the driver's seat and pull out of the lot.

After about a block, you say, "Do you mind if I smoke a joint? I like to relax after school." You don't think she'll have the wherewithal to say 'no'. You also think being in the truck full of pot smoke might get her a little high.

She looks at you and says, "Okay." Her eyes are wide with amazement. You don't think she's ever been around pot.

You pull the blunt out of your shirt and the lighter out of the ash tray. You get it lit and take a good drag and hold it in. The smoke tastes good, very sweet and not at all harsh. Craig really came through. Then you offer it to Jacklyn. She shakes her head no. You exhale a large cloud of smoke that fills the truck. Jacklyn wrinkles her nose. You take another hit. With the difficulty of speaking while holding a hit, you say, "Just try one puff, and I won't ask you again." You hold it out to her.

You are at a stop sign, and look at her and smile. She looks straight into your eyes, waits a second, then reaches for the joint. She sucks tentatively on the end, but you see the ember flare bright red, and you know she got a hit - not a big one, but something. You let out your toke and pull out from the stop.

Jacklyn starts coughing and hacking. You pull over to the side of the road and put the truck into park. You pat her on the back lightly. She has the joint held tightly in her hand. You smile that she didn't drop it.

"There, there. Sometimes it just hits you like that. Here." You open the windows on her side of the car to air out the smoke. She stops **** and is breathing heavily. There is still a good amount of smoke in the truck, but it is dissipating quickly.

"Oh, my. That was harsh, but not as bad as I thought it was going to be," Jacklyn says.

That's the longest sentence you've ever heard her say today by eight or ten words. Then you drop your jaw when she takes another toke. Again you see the burning end glow briefly. She blows a small cloud out the window and hands the joint back to you. She grins widely at you. You take the blunt and stub it out in the ash tray, still leaving more than half. You are plenty stoned, and you want all your faculties if things get interesting.

As you watch Jacklyn, her body relaxes and she leans against the door facing you. "So, what's it like to play football?"

Her whole demeanor is different. Her body is relaxed, she's looking you in the eye and not at her shoes, her skin is a little flushed, her pupils dilated, and she's asking a question.

"Well, as the quarterback, I'm the guy in charge on the field. The coach is the General, but I'm the Captain rallying the troops. When things are going well, my receivers are catching my passes, the blockers are protecting me, the runners are dodging, there's no **** that's better."

You see something in her eyes that you've never seen in her before -- interest.