Stuck in a Rut - Part 20

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Stuck in a Rut.
By Rosalie Redd

Casey Church is a normal 13 year old girl, full of hopes and dreams and fears and anxieties. But in a world where there hasn’t been a girl born in over a century, what is normal?

Chapter 20.

Everyone looked around in stunned silence. I caught a glimpse of Amy and May looking back and forth at each other, lost in how to act and what to do with their ‘boss’ having been escorted away. Luna looked up, caught my gaze, and quickly turned away. I would have to find a way to get her alone and talk to her.

With the disruption to the class, Mr. Hedges gave up teaching his lesson. The rest of the class was spent with gossip and chatter. I went in for second period and ran into DeShaun. I told him what had happened. He agreed with me that whatever had been on the drive had to have been so damning that the police and district attorney had taken no time in bringing Marcia in.

We sat in silence at lunch, pondering events. The school day came to an end, and we headed our opposite directions. Me to my ride from mom, and him to practice. There was an away game on the schedule for tomorrow, and the coach was going to go over the game plan and do a walk-through on what to expect.

I looked at Mom, as she drove, and I asked the question that had been on my mind. “Mom, what was in that notebook and on that flash drive? I mean the police arrested Marcia in first period today. If Dad had dropped it off this morning, it must have been pretty bad for them to act that quickly.”

Mom sighed. “I don’t know if I should tell you”, she said. “I mean that way if you are asked in court about what’s on the drive, or in the notebook, you won’t have to lie.”

That worried me. It worried me a lot. We pulled into the garage, and I got out of the car and walked to the kitchen. I grabbed an apple and went upstairs to finish the last bits of homework that I hadn’t gotten to in study hall. When I was finished, I got up and changed out of my sweats. It was hot, and I was broiling. Putting on a pair of shorts and a tee, I headed downstairs, as I munched on that delicious honeycrisp.

I walked over to Mom’s office, and knocked. “Dad going to be home late tonight?”, I asked.
Mom didn’t answer, instead she looked at me long and hard.

“Come with me, it’s time for another girl lesson”, she stated flatly. I tilted my head, questioningly.

Mom led me upstairs. She told me to wait for a moment outside the door to mom and dad’s room. When she opened it up, she had changed from her jeans into her bikini. Lading me into the master bath, she ordered me to sit on the edge of the tub. Perplexed, I did so.

She looked at me and smiled. “And here your father thought he’d be the one to teach you about shaving.”, she smirked.
I looked at her, then when she looked at my legs, I understood what she was talking about. I looked down at my legs, and sure enough, they were covered in fine, dark hairs.

Sitting down beside me, she grabbed some shaving lotion from beside the tub, and demonstrated how to apply it to my legs. I watched as she ran the razor along those long legs. Legs that if not on my mother would certainly be considered sexy, by me. I took note of how she shaved in smooth strokes and took care when she got to the areas near the ankle, tendons, and… eek!… bikini line.

“I think I’ll let you learn about shaving your pubic hair on your own, I don’t want you to be too uncomfortable.”, she said as she teased me. “Now let’s see if you got it.”

She handed me the shaving lotion, and moved aside, going to sit over on the toilet. She watched as I awkwardly applied the cool lotion to my legs, and gently shaved my way through it. On a couple occasions, she stopped me, to tell me specifics on a difficult area, or to give me advice.

I got to the thighs, and carefully, hiked the legs of my shorts and boxers up, so I could get the bikini line. She nodded as I did that area, not needing much in the way of guidance.

When I was done, I ran my hands down my legs. They were so soft and smooth, not like how they used to be when I was a boy.

Mom looked at my legs, and gave an approving nod. “Next time, I’ll teach you about waxing. In the mean time, shirt off!”, she exclaimed. I looked at her confused, and did as she said. “Good, now lift your arms up!’

Ah. I get it now. “Ok”, she said. “You don’t need to shave your pits just yet. But when you do start noticing hair, you’ll want to start. Armpits are fairly easy, when compared to legs. But if you need help, let me know. After school tomorrow, we’ll head to the store and pick you up some supplies.”

I walked over and hugged her, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. I walked to my room, and I grabbed my towel and bath supplies. Might as well wash off the remaining little bloops of lotion. I entered the bathroom, and undressed. Without thinking, I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the door, then began to turn and look at different angles. There was no doubt I was mostly girl. All but that empty sac and small stubby remnant of my penis. Taking a moment, I tucked them between my legs, and turned and looked in the mirror again. With it hidden, I looked completely like a girl. And admittedly a cute one, at that.

While I had no boobs to speak of, my hips were wide, and waist thin. My butt was rather round and plump. Not like those ditsy sisters on that one show, where they are famous for being famous, but for my age and size, not far off that track. If only my boobs would start to grow. Wait.. what? Did I just think that?

I lowered my head and slumped to the floor of the shower, letting the water cascade over me, hiding the tears that mixed themselves in.

After a while, I heard a knocking on the door. I got up and turned off the water and wrapped a towel around my head, and taking another one, I wrapped it around my upper body, letting it cover my chest and torso. I opened the door, and bumped right into DeShaun. I fell down, and nearly had a towel-related mishap.
Scrambling to my feet, I checked my modesty shield, and found the towel to be intact. I hurried to my room, and shut the door. I lay on the bed, dripping wet. A while later, I head the knocking on the door.

“Is it safe to come in?”, DeShaun asked from the other side of the door.

I hurriedly toweled off, and got dressed. “Come in”, I said.

Deshaun entered and sat down at my desk. “Sorry for interrupting your shower. I didn’t know you were in there.”, he said, embarrassed.

I brushed it off, but noticed he was looking at my legs. “Like what you see?” I asked, in a cheeky manner.

“Very much so”, he said as he continued to look. I admit, I blushed at that.

He had showered and was looking very attractive, I must say. I looked him up and down. Yummy.

“So, what’s up?”, I asked.

“All this stuff about Marcia, I’m sorry you got dragged into it. And I’m sorry for how my parents treated you.”, he said with his eyes cast down at the floor. I got up and walked over, placing my finger under his chin. I raised his head up with it, and looked him in the eye.

“Tell me about it”, I said. I sat down on the bed again, and patted the spot beside me. “The door is open, so don’t worry about appearances.”

He walked over and sat next to me and sighed, then he began telling his story. “It goes way back with my family. Back to the plantations, I guess. Though Dad uses that as an excuse to rationalize every thing he thinks is unfair. But the worst part of it all was when Grandpa was shot during a protest back when he was young. He blames the white officers, but the rioting and vandalism was more the true cause. But ever since, he feels that white people are only trying to ‘keep the brothers down’, as he puts it.”

I reached over and petted his hand, and he took mine in his.

He continued on. “When he was drafted by Dallas, he thought it was the opportunity of the lifetime, to be an NFL superstar. Then he blew out his knee in preseason, and had to have an operation. The doctor was white, and Dad blamed him for the fact he never regained his original mobility, and had to take an injury settlement from the team and retire. The coach was white, the owner was white. Dad didn’t see that he no longer had the ability to perform at the needed level, he just thought it was a conspiracy to replace him with a white guy. He tried to sue the doctor, but the judge, jury, and defense attorney were all white people. So he’s convinced that they colluded to throw the case out.”

I leaned against him and sighed. It was so unfair. DeShaun was in this spot because his father refused to admit that life was just unfair, not that there was some illuminati-level conspiracy to keep him down.
I snuggled against him, and we sat for a while in silence.

After a little while, I heard Dad come home. DeShaun and I sat up and looked at each other and then we went downstairs one at a time. Better to allay suspicions that way. I sauntered down in front of him, fully aware he was watching my ass. I have to get used to it, I guess… having a desirable booty, I mean. I giggled at that thought.

We both sat down on the couch, in the living room. I gave him a rather tame foot massage. I knew his feet often hurt after practice. That’s when Dad came into the room, Mom trailing behind a little ways behind. He had a serious look on his face. I immediately stopped what I was doing and I looked at Dad, then over to mom, and back to Dad.

“What’s up?”, I asked him.

He got that grim look on his face that he got when he had to deliver bad news. Sure enough, he began. “Deshaun, I spoke to a friend at the department of records. We tracked your sister down, and I spoke to her. Your brother-in-law and her agreed to let you move in. Furthermore, as a condition for dropping the trespassing and assault charges for his actions the other day, your father has agreed to not contest the order removing you from their custody. Your Mother also agreed to this stipulation.”

I smiled. “You hear that? That’s wonderful!”, I said in excitement, but then I looked at Dad. His expression worried me.

Dad spoke again. “There is a problem though. You can finish out the football season and the school semester here, but then after that, you’ll be transferred to their custody.”

DeShaun looked at him. “Sir, what’s the problem?”

Dad looked at both of us, and sighed. “DeShaun, your sister lives in Chicago now.”

~o~O~o~

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Comments

One day...

One day, it won't matter what color you are.

Gwen

Flash drive and notebook

Man now you have me wondering what was in the evidence that made the police move so quickly, either it was something so mutilated that it can be vomit inducing, or it was something even worse.

Distorted glasses

Jamie Lee's picture

It's really sad when anyone blames another person for something based on the color of their skin. What those people don't consider is that the application of blame works both ways. Instead of blaming individuals for their actions, everyone of that type is blamed.

DeShaun deserves a more stable home life, but having to move for it to occur is going to cause sad feelings to rise.

Others have feelings too.