Allison called you that night in tears, accusing you of on cheating on her.

That evening you got a call from Allison. She sounded like she was crying.

“Tim Connors, what the hell is going on?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“I leave you alone for one day and you end up having lunch with a bunch of cheerleaders. I heard you even kissed one of them!”

Kissed one of them? What was she talking about? Oh my god, you thought. Randall. At the lockers.

Allison sniffled. “Is any of this true?”

“No,” you said. “Of course not. That is, not exactly.”

“What do you mean ‘Not exactly’?”

“I wasn’t kissing any cheerleader, okay? It was more like she was kissing me.”

“Tim, I don’t understand. Why would a cheerleader be doing that?”

Good question. Obviously you couldn’t tell her it was really Randall, but you had to come up with some explanation, and quick. You could feel your mental wheels shifting into overdrive.

“I don’t know,” you said. “It was weird. This cheerleader – her name’s Teresa – she was, uh, kind of hurrying out of class and she dropped something. Her, uh, her wallet. Out of her purse. I saw it fall and said ‘Wait, I think you dropped something.’ Then she turned around and saw what it was and said, ‘Oh my god. My whole life is in there. Thank you so much.’ Then, later on, she just came up out of the blue and gave me a kiss on the cheek and thanked me again. Just a little peck, that was it. But very demonstrative. You know how cheerleaders are. After that she, uh, she saw that I was eating lunch alone so she sat down with a couple of her cheerleader friends. You know, just to be friendly. And that was it.”

“Did you tell her you had a girlfriend?”

“No. It never got that far.”

“Just how far were you planning for it to get?”

“Nowhere! Allison, please. It’s you I love! This girl was just being friendly and thankful. That was it.”

It took you several tries and a lot of apologies, but eventually you managed to calm her down and assure her that she was the only girl for you. The next morning, however, you got to school early – really early – well before the time Allison normally showed up. You went over to the wing where Teresa’s locker was and staked it out. You absolutely had to talk to Randall.

Finally, about eight-thirty, Randall showed up wearing a green plaid jumper and dark stockings.

He looked great.

“Timmy, hi,” he said in Teresa’s voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I think we have a little problem,” you said.

“Oh?”

You told him about Allison’s phone call and how you finessed it by making up the story about Teresa losing her wallet.

“Wow,” Randall said, twisting Teresa’s lips into a pout. “That’s a bummer. I didn’t realize one little kiss would make Allison so jealous.”

“Neither did I. But it did."

“So I guess that means I can’t do this, then.” And he reached up and grabbed the back of your neck, pulled your face toward him and gave you a passionate kiss on the lips.

It took you a moment to realize what he was doing. When you did, you pushed him away. “Randall!”

Your friend doubled over with laughter. “Haven’t you heard? The name’s Teresa, honey. And I think you’re kind of cute.” He started walking toward you in a very provocative manner.

“Teresa -- Randall -- please! For god’s sake. You’ve got to stop this. I don’t want to get in any more trouble with Allison than I already am.”