Simple Song Pt. 01

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Slow building romance between two damaged people.
9.7k words
4.74
17.3k
28

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/24/2013
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Hi there, the wait is over! (OK, I don't think anyone but me was waiting, but still.) This is the first part of my longer story that I have been working on. Part 01 (this one) does not contain any sex. These crazy kids will have to wait for their boom boom pow. I do think the sexy bits in the next part are by far the best I've written and it will be submitted at the same time as this one, so you have that to look forward to.

The beginning might be a little odd and I've tried some unconventional things to get into the head of someone with ADD. So if you don't like the style, it will become a little more toned down later on.

Disclaimer: All characters who engage in slap and tickle are at least eighteen years old.

All rights reserved.

Prologue - In My Dreams

A couple may love each other with all of their hearts, but often enough, their love starts with something else entirely.

In this case it started with her ass. And this particular ass... well... words do not suffice...

Walking down the hallway in front of him, he could only see a pair of shapely legs and a spectacular butt in volleyball shorts. He didn't notice her long brown hair, her knee brace, or anything else... just that ass.

As he followed it, he couldn't help but think that this ass was the reason that volleyball shorts were invented. This ass was the reason that the term bubble butt was invented. This ass was the reason that asses were invented.

All he could do was stare, his mind blank of any other thoughts. It seemed like her butt was staring back at him.

He didn't know how long he had been following it, or where he was, but his mental faculties were slowly starting to come back to him. He was wondering if he knew this ass... rather... this person. Had he said hello and shaken its... her... hand? Was she new to the school or....

WHUMP!

Darkness and ringing. Painful, high pitched, ringing darkness...

*****

As his eyes started to open he could see faces, or at least he thought they were faces, the faces were spinning violently...

"Are you OK? Can you hear me?"

One of the faces began to come into focus. He knew that face. It had a name... Her name was...

Blackness again...

*****

Someone was speaking to him, asking him if he was alright. The face that came into focus, it wasn't the one from before.

"Son, how many fingers do you see? You need to stay awake, you blacked out again. Son?"

He began to sit up.

"Son, you have a concussion. Don't move."

He felt dizzy. Now that he was sitting up, he was dizzy. He had never felt so dizzy before.

And that's when he vomited.

It turns out that a backpack full of textbooks will hit you like a backpack full of textbooks, even if it is being playfully tossed from one side of the hallway to the other at that moment. The impact is also worse if you are not listening to or watching out for your surroundings... because you are staring at the perfect ass in front of you.

The moments are rare in this life when someone gets what they deserve, but as John Samuels slumped back onto the floor, even he wouldn't be able to argue that this was not one of them.

Chapter 1 - Sleepyhead

7:15 AM... RING... RING...

Getting up was never easy for him. Every morning was its own battle, and even though the concussion symptoms were gone, John still groaned as he sat up in his bed.

7:23 AM... RING... RING...

He slumped back, trying to decide whether to get up.

Red pill or blue pill?

*****

He must have picked the red pill because he was walking (staggering) down the hall towards his home room, a Starbucks clutched in his hand.

*****

Third period was calculus... hopefully He was certainly looking at the title page of an open calculus book. What was the class before this one? It was... It was...

At least this wasn't the concussion talking, his memory always worked like this.

Knee bounce...

Toe tap...

Now he was rubbing his head, not that he noticed. He rarely noticed the fidgeting.

And then he stopped.

That was her. It had to be her. It definitely looked like her hair. And her ear... maybe... well, he had actually never noticed her ear before, but it definitely could have been her right ear. This ear had three piercings: one in the lobe, and two in the upper ear.

Mr. Nickolson was still droning. "Prove... speeding ticket... velocity... points... minimum speed..." It didn't make any sense.

The bell rang.

She was standing up and facing towards him to pick up her bag. If time was speeding by before for John, now it froze.

In her sandles, the girl was 5'2", maybe 5'3", slender with flared hips. Hanging down a few inches below her shoulders, her hair was dark brown.

But John didn't notice any of those details because she was smiling. And oh what a smile!

At other times a catty girl might have tried to talk about how she had chipmunk cheeks, but when she was smiling, two gigantic dimples came out to play. Her whole heart-shaped face would light up when she smiled, starting with her bright green eyes.

Once in a very great while, there is a smile that makes it feel like the sun just came out from behind the clouds. And this girl definitely had one.

For the first time that day, John felt fully awake.

Chapter 2 – Perfection as a Hipster

Wippy "Don't Ask" Black was not having a good day. ("Don't Ask" was not actually her middle name, it just seemed like it was to her. People asked her about her first name that often.)

Her knee was hurting again.

And she felt fat. Ever since the knee injury, she had been putting on weight. It was only 15 pounds, but it felt like 30 to her. Of course, it would have been nice if someone had told her boobs so that they could blossom into C cups, like apparently every other girl in this school.

And she hated her friends. It seemed like they were always ignoring her.

For being only two weeks into her last semester of high school, she felt overwhelmed. Straight A's are a painful precedent to maintain.

All of this might explain why she was in a black mood when she slumped down next to Sarah at the lunch table. The conversation continued on without pause. It was some type of gossip about people she didn't know.

Suddenly, Sarah, elbowed her. It broke her out of her reverie.

"Hey, you see that kid over there? Eating alone?"

"Yeah."

The kid in question was another senior. He looked a little stocky, with dark hair grown out over his ears, curling at the ends. He had a few days worth of beard, and also a large, dark bruise up one side of his face.

"You know what I heard?"

"Probably not."

"That's the guy who got hit by the bookbag Monday. I heard that pervert got hurt because he was staring at your ass."

"That seems unlikely." It was that boy, now she remembered. She had been the first person to him after he went down, but she had to leave to get to practice before he fully regained consciousness.

"Oh, I think it's true. I heard that he followed you for, like, two hallways staring at your ass before it happened."

Sarah continued, "Bitch, at least you've got something to follow, I'm glad to see you're not skeleton-skinny anymore." She pinched Wippy's butt while saying it, then immediately returned to the table's conversation.

Wippy just sat there silently. It couldn't be true, could it? Why would someone be staring at her ass?

Suddenly the day didn't seem quite so terrible after all.

The boy sat up and left his table. He actually walked right past her to get rid of his tray! He didn't make eye contact with her as he passed, but at least she had gotten a better chance to see him.

He was maybe 5'10" or 5'11" and a little bit stocky. His face wasn't going to end up on the front of any magazines (except "Pervert Weekly" Sarah would have told her), but it seemed pleasant enough. He was dressed a little oddly in a dress shirt with a tie on that was absolutely the wrong color. Was he colorblind?

*****

Wippy watched John Samuels intently (she had managed to learn his name) over the next several school days. He might or might not be colorblind, but he was definitely a hipster. Some days he looked surprisingly good, and then some days he looked like he had dressed in the dark.

The spying at least took her mind off of school. She was doing so bad right now, she was convinced. The quiz last period, she had missed most of the questions, for sure. Wippy had always gotten A's but she obviously wasn't smart enough to keep getting them. She was much dumber than people thought she was, that was obvious to her.

Her mind went back to John. He was friendly enough with everyone except her, who he seemed to be avoiding. He even seemed scared to look at her. It didn't appear that he had any close friends.

Sarah's gossip filled in some more details, once Sarah realized that Wippy was watching him. Apparently, the Pervert (as Sarah called him) was a little bit of an enigma. He never seemed to study with anyone, and he definitely didn't pay attention in class. He had spent a semester each on the baseball team, the chess club, the debate team, and the tennis team. No one knew why, but he had quit each after only a semester, regardless of his performance in them.

*****

John had spent the time racking his brain for everything he could remember from junior year about the girl, who he would now be too ashamed to ever talk to.

Her name was Wippy. (Weird name.) She was a straight A student, probably the top in the class. Or damn near it.

Last semester she had been really skinny, like really, really skinny. He had thought she might be anorexic. Or bulemic. Whichever one made you really, really skinny.

She reminded him of someone... Who was it?...

Nevermind.

They had shared a class, but he didn't remember her ever talking. Of course, he hadn't been paying attention for most of the time so she could have taught the class most days and he probably wouldn't remember it.

He didn't remember her smiling very much.

Knee bounce...

Toe tap...

Why hadn't he really noticed her before?

Either way, it was well and truly fucked now.

Chapter 3 - Have You Ever

John sometimes thought that his life was like a vacation roadtrip, a few key events to be enjoyed with interminable hours and days in between them, the scenery whizzing past forgotten before it was even noticed. He often found himself in various places, in class being asked a question or standing inside his front door, without any distinct memories of how he got there.

He was pondering all of this when he heard his name, likely not being called for the first time based on the frustration audible in the voice.

He was sitting in the front row of the class. Why was he in the front row?

"Mr. Samuels, I asked you a question."

"You did... I mean... so sorry, could you repeat it?"

"The answer on the board is not the same as the answer in the textbook. Do you know why?"

Mr. Nickolson was speaking with mock patience.

There was a pause, and as John started to respond it struck him. He was late! That was why he was in the front row, he had been late to class and it was the only available seat.

"I did not think you would know the answer, seeing as you have not looked at the board in the last 40 minutes." The teacher turned away and asked if anyone else knew the answer.

There was a question? What question? Oh yeah, the error, that was easy.

"The factorial of zero is one, sir. That would change one of your terms."

Mr. Nickolson did not know how to respond.

Knee bounce...

Toe tap...

John's attention was already gone. He was busy wondering if things would have been different if Leibniz and Newton had just talked to each other.

*****

Wippy was fascinated. She had never seen anyone act quite like him before.

She had been watching him the whole class and she did not remember him having looked up at the board even once.

It was time to try something different, she decided. Maybe he would make an interesting study partner. She was definitely going to need one for this class. At least there might be one class she wouldn't fail. It was such a bad semester already.

*****

After class, John was just beginning to get up when he saw her walking up to him. He felt like a mouse hypnotized by a snake, he couldn't move or escape. She stopped just in front of him.

"So, do you want to be study buddies?" Even worse, she was smiling at him.

John did not know how to respond. He was vaguely aware that there were noises coming out of his mouth, but none of them were words.

Yes, and also, can I put a quarter in one of your dimples?

No! Too forward! Try again.

Yes, and also, what does your sweat taste like?

Wow! Way, way too forward! Try again.

"Well... umm... I don't know if you want that."

Her face was more serious now. "Why is that?"

"I make for a terrible study partner. Anybody who has worked with me in the past claims that I won't do my part of the assignment until ten minutes before it's due. I don't... I don't think you want that."

She flashed him another grin. (Damn!)

"Oh, that's not a problem. Everyone who has worked with me complains that I don't let them do any of the work. Apparently I have 'trust' issues.

"So, tomorrow after school in the library?"

All he could do was nod helplessly.

It took every ounce of willpower that John had to resist looking at her ass she walked away.

*****

They learned quickly that they were a good team. He helped her learn the concepts, while Wippy acted as a good role model for him to work harder.

She found out that he had a strange mix of A's and C's; it was confusing why someone who was so smart couldn't succeed. It also turned out that he was fairly funny once the nervousness wore off.

He learned she really was the top in their class, with straight A's and honors classes. She was intelligent, approachable, and when she smiled it literally made him dizzy. How was she not dating anyone?

Of course, the thought of asking her out made his palms clammy.

Chapter 4 - Magic Numbers

Their study sessions were unconventional. Wippy would study intently, occasionally throwing questions at John. For his part, John would study for ten minutes or so before he would start doing something else.

On this occasion, he was building a house of cards. Where in hell he got the deck of cards, she had no idea. It was really quite impressive. She had never seen someone build one so quickly.

Great, she thought, now I'm distracted too.

As if he could read her mind, John suddenly flipped a quarter through the house of cards, toppling it to the ground. (Where did the quarter come from?) Before all of the cards had even hit the ground, John already had his calculus book in hand, intently studying whatever section he was open to.

A few minutes later, he shut the book. To be honest, it was a little infuriating.

"If you had to write a novel, what would it be about?"

She simply looked at him. She had no answer ready for a question like that.

"I mean, I think it's a pretty interesting question. Like, I think I would maybe write one about if... you know, if 17th century sailors had discovered some secret to turning salt water into fresh water. I mean, I bet that would totally change the history of colonization. Right?"

Wippy couldn't resist a smile. Apparently that encouraged him to continue.

"Or like, if it was Mr. Nickolson, he would probably write this story about this totally hardass cop who solves all of his crimes with basic math principles that he explains in a really condescending way to the criminals. That seems like it would be totally up his alley."

She couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Hey, what did you get for seventeen?" He continued.

How did he change speeds like that?

Chapter 5 – Different Names for the Same Thing

A few weeks later the two were sitting in the library studying Calculus together. At least, Wippy was. John wasn't looking at his textbook. This was normal behavior for him.

Suddenly, he straightened up looking like he had just woken up. "So what's Wippy short for? That's... uh... got to be short for something or stand for something... or something, right?"

"No, it's not short for anything."

"Then why is your name Wippy? I don't believe you."

"Whatever. Good for you."

"Look me in the eye and tell me that Wippy isn't short for anything."

His finger was raising her chin so that they were eye to eye. She had a grin on her face that she couldn't hide. John actually thought he could see her eyes sparkling.

"Oh! You are so lying!"

"So what?"

At this point, John chose to slam his textbook shut in a show of mock anger. Even he jumped at the sound. It also earned him glares from the people on the other side of the room.

"I refuse to work with someone who can't be honest about their name." His voice was a hissing whisper. "Until you tell me what your name means, I am... I am just going to have to make up a name for you."

"Ok." She was still grinning.

"If you want it that way then you'll get it that way, little miss cool whip."

They both laughed at that.

More glares...

"This will be easier for both of us if you just give in, miss mysterious."

"Is that a fact, Jack?" They were both failing to control their volumes by now.

"Yeah it is!"

It was at this point that the librarian asked them to leave.

John and Wippy left the library with a new dynamic to their blossoming friendship. From then on, Wippy refused to call him anything but Jack, even after he protested that everyone called him John.

For his part, John nearly stopped using her name entirely. Instead he always had a new nickname for her. They ranged from the obvious ("old green eyes", "short stuff") to the unwieldy ("generic form of whipped cream", "oh-miss-short-of-stature-but-odd-of-name") to the oddly affectionate ("sweetpea", "my darling") to a range of names that made sense only to him ("Freudstein", "Mr. Vice President").

He also did whatever he could to trick her into telling her why she was named Wippy, inserting the question into most of their conversations. Sometimes it was in a string of school questions, or asking her when they first said hello, or waiting until she seemed to be deep in thought. He finally reached his worst when he actually woke her up from an accidental nap by whispering the question into her ear over and over.

That earned him a slap.

One would expect Wippy to be frustrated by his antics, and she sometimes was, but that reaction was surprisingly rare for her. Most of the time, she just enjoyed the fact that someone was taking such an intense interest in her. When she was alone, she would sometimes think about his nicknames for her. She couldn't imagine how much of his time must be spent thinking about her for him to come up with so many. She knew he didn't act that way with anyone else.

Wippy would never have admitted it to him, but it made her feel special.

For his part, John would have been willing to kill a water buffalo with his bare hands just to earn another smile from her. He couldn't admit it out loud, but he was besotted.

Chapter 6 - Kick Drum Heart

It took a while for John to build up his courage. He had never asked a girl out before, and he wasn't sure he knew how to do it. He probably would need to do it casually. Whatever that means.

In the end, it was a month before John got the nerve. He arrived at the coffee shop early that day (only an hour or two early), to prepare himself. All he could do was fidget.

What if she said no?

Knee bounce...

Toe tap...

What if she laughed at him?

Even worse, what if she said yes?

What if she said yes, but meant no?

Knee bounce...

Toe tap...