Jocks & Cheerleaders Ch. 01

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Confidences lead to love.
6.2k words
4.55
25.5k
13

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/27/2010
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steamoil
steamoil
78 Followers

He was late. He hated being late. It was maths, and he hated maths. The engineering subjects he loved, particularly the practicals. He'd been good at maths at school, but this esoteric stuff on fluid flows he just couldn't get the hang of at all. He hurried down the corridor, knocked on the door and slipped in muttering an apology. He looked blindly around and at first couldn't see a seat. Then he spotted one near the back, and his breath caught in his throat. He was sure the person occupying the other seat at the table was an angel. Translucent skin with a dusting of freckles over the sculpted nose. Full lips. Delicately delineated eyebrows over piercing green eyes. And a cascade of wavy chestnut hair.

She was bored. She loved maths. But this lecture was going over old ground. Then there was a tentative knock on the door, and one of her most hated species came into the room. To be fair, he did seem embarrassed that he was late and muttered an apology. His face flamed as he searched blindly for a seat. To her surprise she felt a twinge of sympathy, knowing how difficult it is to see things when under pressure. She saw he had spotted the empty seat, and his eyes widened with a reaction that she had come to hate. As he headed to the seat beside her, she cursed the absence of her maths buddy.

He sensed the negative vibes coming off the girl with the face of an angel. He did his best not to succumb to the urge to glance at her face and fill his eyes with her beauty. And he tried not to sit too close. He had to admit she was distracting him from the maths. And boy was today's lecture trying. He knew he needed to understand, but it was just so difficult. He sighed again and bent to his books, noticing that she was jotting a few notes but mostly doodling and looking around. That made him pause for thought. Maybe it wasn't just that he was sitting there that was making her annoyed. Maybe she was like the others, a bit of an air head and couldn't do the maths either. He was puzzled. He shrugged his shoulders and dragged his attention back to the maths.

She was puzzled too, by his frequent sighs. She took a surreptitious look at his book, and her lip curled in disdain. Yep, he was a typical jock without a hope of understanding this level of maths. His notes showed that he'd missed crucial steps, misunderstood others, and was up a blind alley. She couldn't help grinning as he sighed again. She was delighted with the thought that he'd fail this paper even if he was a miracle at sport.

He castigated himself for being distracted by a pretty face. He kept pulling himself up and willing himself to concentrate on the maths. He kept reminding himself why he didn't want to go there. "I won't speak to her. I won't." He reminded himself continually. And went back to the hopeless task of following a lecture he'd lost track of long ago. As the lecture ended, he turned to her, was stunned again by her face, and much to his chagrin couldn't stop himself opening his mouth:

"I see you shared my difficulty with the maths."

She laughed contemptuously at him, and said with sugary sweetness, "Actually, no. It was too easy."

The surprise showed on his face. "You understand it? I wish I did. I love my subject, but I just can't do maths. Unfortunately I have to pass to graduate, and this is my third attempt."

It was her turn to be surprised. First by his straightforward reaction to her sarcastic remark. Then by his obvious frustration. Perhaps she'd misunderstood. Anyway, when she stood up he'd realise and leave her alone so she wouldn't have to worry. She gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes, "Good luck with your studies." And she stood to leave. Much to her surprise, he called out to her.

"Wait. If you understand it so easily, would you mind trying to explain it to me? I really need some help here."

He definitely wasn't a normal jock. If he had been, he would have left her alone as soon as he saw her very overweight figure. A normal jock might have been attracted to her face, but would have been completely turned off by her figure. She couldn't deny that he was exactly the sort of man she would love to have as a boyfriend, but she wasn't going there again. But what if he was genuine? How could it hurt if she just helped him?

"OK." She couldn't believe she'd agreed to spend any time with a jock. What an idiot.

He gave her a great big grin, lighting up his whole face and shining through his eyes.

"Thank you. I can't tell you how grateful I am. And I'm sorry I had to sit by you. I know it made you uncomfortable. Well, actually I'm not sorry for me if it helps me get my maths, but I am sorry it made you feel bad."

He noticed? Wow. Since when had a jock ever noticed how a girl felt? Ok, she was jaundiced, but even so this guy was different. He seemed to act normal, not like the world owed him a living. He wasn't put off by her gross figure. He didn't react badly to her sarcasm. She began to think she had totally misjudged him.

The girl with the angel face had just agreed to help him with his maths. He was out of his mind. What the hell was he doing asking any girl to help. Seduced by a pretty face. Again. What the hell. He'd just get the coaching then walk away. She was fairly hostile anyway, so there was no danger.

"When would be convenient for you?" He continued.

He was asking? Why wasn't he telling her when he could fit it in? "Um. How about after my last class later today? Or same time tomorrow?" She suggested.

"Fine with me. I had a practice booked, but I'll cancel it. Can we do today? I really need this."

She had misjudged him. He was cancelling a practice to do maths. Now she needed to get the first strike in for where, because she definitely wasn't going to meet him anywhere alone. "How about we meet in the library at about six then?"

"Thank you. I'm really grateful that you're taking me seriously."

As she walked away, she suddenly realised that he had not challenged her statement about understanding maths. The bastard who'd hurt her so badly hadn't acknowledged she had a brain - ever. Who was this bloke? Why did he upset her equilibrium? Why couldn't she just carry on behind her defences and get her degree? She mused on imponderables until the lecture on quantum mechanics took her mind off them. She was fascinated by string theory, and didn't think about her appointment again until after her next lecture.

As she wandered slowly across to the library, she asked herself again what she was thinking of when she agreed to this. She was just thinking she would tell him it was a mistake and go back to her room when she saw him. As soon as he saw her, a smile lit up his face, and all her resolution left. "Hell, it's only maths tutoring. What's the harm in that?" She thought.

He looked up, and suddenly there she was. He was stunned all over again, and felt his face split into a huge grin. He also took in that she was overweight. "Funny." He mused, "I thought I liked tall thin girls. This one is tall, but she's not thin by anyone's standards." Then she grinned back at him. This time the smile reached her eyes, and he almost gasped. As she came up to him, he spoke:

"Hello Angel. Thank you so much for coming."

She was stunned all over again. He was polite and treated her like an equal. Suddenly she realised what he'd said.

"My name's not Angel."

"But you are to me. You're my angel of mercy. Or at least my angel of maths!" He laughed.

It was infectious, and she grinned back at him. "We'll see about that."

It was hard. She couldn't get through the concepts that she found so simple. Suddenly he said something about an integration, and she realised that the problem wasn't this particular method, he didn't understand the basics.

"OK. So how do you calculate the area under a curve?"

He looked at her with a puzzled frown. "What do you mean? I don't understand how that's relevant to this method."

"Do you trust my maths?" She asked.

"Sure." He said easily. "Why shouldn't I."

He did trust her. And he didn't question that she had a brain. She still found that hard to accept.

"OK, then let's look at areas under curves. We'll start with the most straightforward."

After two gruelling hours of work, he suddenly said, "That's it. Now I can see why I couldn't understand the flow methods. You're amazing." And he grabbed her and gave her a big bear hug. "Thank you."

As if it was the most natural thing in the world, he let go of her, and asked, "You know you said tomorrow was free as well?"

She was totally flustered by the hug, and braced herself for the date question.

"Would you go over the flow parts tomorrow for me so that I can be sure that the basics are firmly in my brain? Or is that too much to ask?"

It wasn't the date question. She couldn't believe it. It was the most normal experience she'd ever had with a bloke. He'd hugged her because of who she was, not what she looked like. She could feel the tears welling up, so she turned to pack up to hide her face, and covered by asking:

"No problem. Same time and place?"

"Thank you. I'd be really grateful."

As she got up to leave, she could see him out of the corner of her eye looking at his watch.

"Oh." His surprise was evident. "We've been two and a half hours. I'm so sorry. At least let me buy you some food."

She couldn't be angry. It was a completely straightforward suggestion. It wasn't a date. It was what you would expect from anyone. Guilt at having taken so much of her time. The need to eat. And a quid pro quo for the coaching. Unbelievably she found herself accepting.

As they waited for their food they were both amazed at how easily they chatted. About studying. About friends. About politics. About cooking. About music. In fact about anything. Suddenly she remembered something.

"What practice was it you missed, Jock?"

He coloured slightly. "Oh, it was nothing really. A couple of friends and I are doing a concert at the end of the semester and we usually practice two nights a week. It won't hurt to miss one. And my name's not Jock!"

She couldn't help the shock showing on her face. Oh how much she had misjudged him. It wasn't even a sports practice. "But like you thought I was Angel, that was what I thought about you. Do you play any sport?"

He looked embarrassed. "No. I run to keep fit, but no sports. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" She didn't understand.

"Well, you thought I was a jock. I'm afraid not." He apologised.

Her laugh surprised him. He couldn't help smiling. She was laughing so hard she couldn't speak for a bit.

"I .... I ...," she giggled, "I did think you were a jock. That was why I was so annoyed. I thought you were going to do the arrogant 'come on I'm irresistible' thing to me." Suddenly she was very serious. "I can't bear it."

He saw tears welling up into her eyes. He reached across the table and took her hand.

"Hey." He said softly. "Whatever happened to make you so upset?"

A tear ran down her cheek, and he wiped it away gently. She shook her head.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does to me. I'd be honoured to hear about it anytime you want to tell me."

More tears slid down her cheeks, and she made a determined effort to stop. "Thank you. Maybe another time, please?"

He squeezed her hand and let go so that she could mop her face. Their food arriving was a welcome interruption that allowed her to recover and gave them both a chance to start afresh.

"So is your subject maths?" He deliberately changed the subject to something neutral.

She loved him for it. "No. I'm an astro-physicist."

It was his turn to be shocked. "So not just good at maths, but seriously clever then?" He grinned at her.

She couldn't help smiling back at him. "I know you thought I was just a pretty face. But I have to say you didn't stop at that impression like most. I didn't have to justify to you that I was clever, you took my word for it."

He looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You'd be surprised. One day I will tell you. Anyway, what's your subject?"

He raised one eyebrow. "Not maths. But you know that. I'm an engineer at heart, but need maths to pass."

Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Ah, so you could fix our electrics?" Then blushed bright red.

He smiled again. "I love it that you know you assumed. Actually I am very practical, and might be able to help. Give me your address and I'll call in with my tools."

She murmured her thanks, and smiled at him, shyly this time.

When he saw the shy smile, his heart missed a beat. At that moment, he realised that here was someone of whom he did not need to be afraid. Who would let him be himself. Suddenly it was as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and a beatific smile lit his face.

"You look pleased with yourself."

That wiped the smile off his face.

"I'm sorry. What did I say?" She asked in alarm.

"Oh. Sorry. It wasn't you really. What you said reminded me of some history. I'd like to tell you some day, but not today, please."

"So where are you from?"

He recognised his merciful ploy from earlier, and was grateful to her. The rest of the meal went by in pleasant conversation, and they left with a cheery "See you tomorrow".

The next evening in the library he was delighted to realise that with her help he could understand the maths. Another huge relief, and he asked if she would help him to pass the exam. To his surprise, she agreed, and they went off to their evening engagements.

On Saturday after a long practice with his mates, he got his tools and went to the address she had given him. He was just about to leave, thinking there was nobody in, when he heard someone answering his ring on the bell and opening the door.

He stepped back in amazement. The girl who had answered the door had the face of his Angel, but was beanpole thin with straight wet hair, wrapped in a robe with droplets of water clinging to calves, beet red and stammering.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know Angel had a twin. Is she in?"

Angel's twin stuttered out, "Sh...she's in the middle of a shower. Would you like to wait?"

He couldn't help it. He had visions of the twins in the shower with each other. With an effort he pulled himself together and said he'd go for a walk and come back as it would be easier for them all.

Half an hour later he was back, and Angel let him in.

"Sorry about earlier." He apologised. "I think your twin was a bit embarrassed, like me."

"Um. She's here occasionally." She coloured a little. "She's part of what I might tell you about one day."

He grinned at her. "Secrets you can't bear to reveal, like mine."

She glanced at him. "Yes. You understand, don't you?" That was why she liked him. Hang on, did she just think that? She changed the subject quickly. "Come and have a look at the main light in my bedroom. If I turn it on it blows a breaker."

He followed her into her room. He wasn't sure he wanted to be there, but he was interested, none-the-less. It was neat, but colourful. The desk had a few open books with her laptop nestling amongst them like a grey stepping stone in waves of the printed page. The chair was covered with a multi-coloured throw. There was a small army of bottles and jars jostling for position on the top of a bookshelf under the mirror. An old TV stood on a video player, which in turn was pressing down on a DVD player. The case of Stardust was open on the floor below.

He realised she was looking at him as if waiting, and realised he'd been studying her domain a little too hard. He pulled himself together and asked,

"Is the breaker in or out?"

"It has to be in or none of the lights work."

"Right. Show me what happens." He looked up expectantly and jumped slightly when there was a bang and a flash from the ceiling rose. "Bad then!" He grinned at her, slipped out of his shoes and jumped on the bed. Expertly he twisted the rose and it obediently dropped to the bottom of the flex. It was black inside with scorch marks on one side.

"Every picture tells a story." He muttered to himself. "Pass the wire cutters, please." And he held out his hand.

Angel opened his tool box and pulled out the wire cutters. As she handed them to him, their fingers brushed. She jumped slightly.

"Sorry – did I scratch."

Slightly embarrassed, she responded, "Er, no. Must have been static."

He glanced at her and realised that she must have felt the connection too. "Excellent recovery. Bright as a button." He thought, and reached up to cut the flex on the main insulation.

"Hey, what's that for?" She looked aggrieved as he dropped the flex, fitting, and rose, shade and all, on her bed.

"Got to get rid of the bit that's caused the problem." He was busy undoing the screw terminals, and the remaining wire dropped into his waiting hand. He stepped down off the bed and opened his hand to show her.

"The insulation has split where the wire went round that post. That, and the fact that the installer didn't route the other wire round the other way, caused the short." He noticed a slight colour in her cheeks. "Oh god. I'm sorry. You installed it."

She nodded, embarrassed. "Don't be sorry. I may be good at theory, but I'm not so good at the practical stuff."

"Hey. If you knew, I'm sure you would have done it right. Experience is the name Man gives to his mistakes. Look," He pointed up to the block on the ceiling. "The wires have to go round the posts on each side. Not only does it separate them in case of insulation failure, it allows both wires to take an equal load."

"Oh. I see." She was amazed. None of the supercilious smile and chauvinism. He'd just explained it to her as if she had a brain. As if she could do it herself. As if she wasn't stupid. He was rummaging in his tool bag, and finally emerged triumphantly with the wire strippers.

"Used these before?" He asked.

"No. I just used a knife or scissors."

He grinned at her. "Just wait till you see how easy these make it." He was busy stripping back the outer insulation, and when he'd finished he held the flex for her and gave her the strippers. "Choose the hole you think is about the same size as the wire, then simply squeeze when the wire is at the point where it matches the length of bare wire you want."

Angel did as he said, then looked up at him and grinned delightedly. "Wow. It does all the hard work. Look, a perfect end."

He grinned back, delighted by her success. "Now the other one, then up it goes again."

She stripped the second wire, and he stepped up on the bed to hold the weight of the fixture and shade while she screwed up the terminals. As she stepped up, the tilt of the mattress made her wobble, and he held out his spare hand to steady her. They both jumped slightly at the contact, and he let go as soon as she had her balance. She reached both arms up to put the wires into the terminal block and screw them tight, as his gaze skittered away from the sight of her top moulding to her breasts. He watched as she fed the wires round the opposite posts and screwed up the ceiling rose.

"I'll just go and put the breaker back and we can test it."

She went out and he used the time to look around her domain again while he put away the tools. He looked up as she came back in and flicked the switch. The light came on. She smiled at him, and he felt the impact right down to his boots.

"Thank you so much."

"It's no recompense for all the maths tutoring!" He mumbled.

"But that's just it, it is to me." She grinned at him. "Come on, let's get something to eat. Would you prefer to cook here or go out?"

"Here, if you don't mind." His heart sang. She'd asked him to stay.

She wondered at herself. It had felt so natural offering him the choice of here or out. She actually wasn't worried by his choice, although she couldn't completely get rid of the feeling of unease that things might turn bad. But she reasoned that he wasn't a sports jock, so her previous experience surely wouldn't be repeated?

steamoil
steamoil
78 Followers
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