by Sarah Thorn
I nodded, confused, and wondered what he meant by that. I felt my heart race after what he said. It became a longing to spend some time with the coach, just him and I. Part of me wanted to surprise him, show him just what I could be.
I’d considered doing a makeover for a while, and even Jennie had suggested it on more than one occasion. I wanted to be better and more attractive. Maybe, if I’m more attractive, someone like the coach would fall for me.
Or, maybe even the coach would fall for me, I wondered. I know he’s attractive and not even that much older than me. He always has a way with people; a way that influences people to improve. I wondered if he would ever fall for someone like me as I was now, but he wouldn’t want someone that was so unsure.
I needed help, and I knew who might just be able.
3.
Jennie and Brad were already making out on Brad’s car. I didn’t know whether to be assertive or disgusted. I chose the former.
“Ahem…” I coughed.
Neither of them paid any mind. I tried again but this time much louder.
“Jennie,” I said, “I need your help.”
Jennie leaned off her boyfriend and turned toward me. I felt a little nervous talking to her like this, but I pushed past my feelings.
“Sandy, why don’t you go home and get ready for tonight. I’m going to stay out with Brad,” she started turning back, but I had to interject.
“Jennie, I go to a lot of trouble to keep you happy, the least you could do is help me out for once.”
She leaned back and straightened her back.
“You follow me because you want to, Sandy. I don’t force you to keep me happy,” she said.
“If you still want me to go tonight, then you’ll help. At least, I thought friends help each other out.”
She sighed, and threw her head back in an exaggerated motion.
“Fine, Sandy, I’ll help. Brad, I’ll catch you tonight,” she said.
Brad happily entered his car, kissed Jennie goodbye, and sped off. We were finally alone.
“What do you need,” she asked.
I didn’t really know what I needed, but I knew what I wanted.
“I want you to make me look good. I’ve gone too long with this look; I need a makeover.”
Sandy smiled wickedly and tugged me by the arm.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she said.
She started talking really fast, and I could barely keep up, even with the experience I’d had with her motor mouth in the past.
“Slow down, Jennie, what are we doing first,” I asked.
“You need clothes first; we’re going to the mall!”
I was always nervous when I rode with Jennie; she wasn’t exactly the safest driver I’d ever known. It usually took about twenty minutes to get to the mall from school; she did it in ten.
She pulled me inside the mall, holding my arm the entire way. I was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed. I wasn’t one for buying new clothes, generally preferring to shop when necessary, not for fun. Jennie was the opposite.
“Considering how tiny you are, I think we should get something that shows off the curves you do have,” she said while throwing piles of clothes at me.
I looked at a couple of price-tags and knew this wouldn’t be a cheap trip. With my mound of clothing in tow, I was shoved inside a dressing room. Jennie joined along and eagerly helped me strip off my usually jeans and t-shirt I had made a habit of wearing.
“Okay, we need to get you some new underwear, this just doesn’t work for me,” she added.
I didn’t know what was wrong with it; it served its purpose of keeping me covered and together. I started rolling my eyes but Jennie caught me and grabbed me by the chin.
“If you roll your eyes one more time today, I am going to leave you to figure this out yourself. You think I don’t see you when you do it, but I see it all the time,” she said.
I felt like a deer in the headlights as she spoke. I guess I’d struck a nerve with her that I didn’t know existed.
“Sorry, Jennie,” I said.
“It’s okay; you’re my best friend and friends have to stick together,” She smiled and released me as though it never happened.
She exited the room, leaving me to try on everything she left. She was right, I thought, I didn’t have much of a figure at all. I was always a little taller than most girls and fairly waifish. It caused a lot of teasing through early middle school and all of high school. Probably part of the reason I wore baggier clothing and sweaters to cover myself up.
I slid on the first pair of pants, and they wore really tight. It was only then that I really realized how long and spindly my legs were, and how well the garment accentuated my tiny butt. I felt a little sexier in them already.
The next thing I tried was a tight fitting halter top; I had owned them in the past but rarely wore them. This one fit me like a glove and made my chest look twice as big as I remember. I did a couple of poses in the mirror, as I had seen models do in magazines, and I saw a side of myself I had never seen before. I could finally see a more confident me, Mr. Reynolds was right.
I heard a knock on my door, and before I could cover myself up, Jennie came barging in. She looked me up and down.
“Okay, I’m going to consider this outfit a good jumping off point,” she said.
She poured me into more outfits over the course of the next hour. Every one of them was more revealing than the last. I didn’t mind in the least, as I found more confidence in myself with each change.
“Okay, I think we got it, now let’s get you something to wear underneath,” she said with a smile.
I spent more money in the first store than I should have, but change is never cheap.
We entered an expensive lingerie store, and I felt very out of place. Bras were hung prominently from the walls, as did the lacy underwear.
We paraded through an assortment of tops where Jennie plucked out a few things that I would never have purchased alone. Then, just as before, she crammed us into a fitting room.
“I think I can change by myself, Jennie,” I said.
“Oh don’t be so lame, it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before,” she said.
I giggled.
“That was 8th grade, Jennie,”
“Do you really think you’ve changed much since then,” she asked.
I shrugged, I couldn’t see any difference. I breathed deep, letting go of whatever embarrassment I might feel soon as I slid out of all my undergarments.
Jennie began laughing, hard.
“Okay, what now,” I said with a sigh.
“You need to shave, Hun,” she said.
“I’ll do that later, just give me those panties,” I slid on the laciest pair she found. They were more comfortable than I thought. They rid up my backside a bit, but it wasn’t so bad.
For another hour, I tried on half the store. Jennie continued to make jokes about my unshaven womanhood, so much so that she called up and made an appointment for a Brazilian wax, which I’d heard of but had no idea. I just went along with it.
“You’re in for a treat,” she said in a somewhat ironic tone.
The day lingered on, purchasing new makeup, new shoes, and things I didn’t know I needed. Jennie had it all planned out, as though she’d been thinking about this for a while. Her madness continued until we stood in front of a boutique, my heart was beating hard, and I felt like I should run away; I probably should have.
I’m going to spare the details, in fact, I really don’t want to think about it in the slightest, or go back for another wax. It was torture for a first timer and had a feeling Jennie was laughing the whole time in the waiting room. I wondered, in jest, what the coach would think if he saw me in the lacy underwear, and my clean shaven privates. It made me giggle as I thought about it.
She drove me home, and I was grateful for the ride. I had too many things to take on the bus and was still a bit e
mbarrassed after my first Brazilian.
“I’ll pick you up in a few hours for tonight,” she said before she sped off.
I wondered what Mr. Reynolds was up to.
4.
“Girl, Mike is going to love you,” was all Jennie said to me as I tucked myself into the front seat of her car. Brad was already waiting for her at the party with his friend Mike. I couldn’t get Mr. Reynolds out of my head.
I was feeling nervous again but pushed it to the back of my mind. I had prepared and was ready for this, and I had never felt sexier.
“Do I have to spend the whole night with Mike? If I’m not having fun, I might sneak back home before he notices,” I said.
“You can do whatever you want, but give it a shot and see if you like the new you,” she said.
I felt anxious, both wanting to see what people thought of my change in appearance and wanting to curl up under my blanket at home. I didn’t say anything else in the car until we arrived at the party.
There were already people standing outside, drinking casually and talking. Some were even spilling into the lawns of the neighboring houses. The house behind them was large and old, made of red brick with ivy crawling up the sides; columns supported a balcony on the second floor with some old Greek letters displayed prominently on the railing.
I could feel their eyes as I stepped from the small car, and a measure of silence fell over the crowd. I felt immeasurably embarrassed being the center of attention. My heart raced as though it would shoot from my chest any moment.
“Come on, Sandy,” Jennie said, grabbing my arm to lead me inside.
The talking started again as I strolled past, and I could make out my name being uttered by several of the partygoers; my name was now followed by the word ‘sexy.'
Brad took up a place in the backyard over a large stainless steel grill, being crowded by a group of football players looking for conversation and food.
Jennie waved at Brad, who smiled at her briefly before his mouth dropped slightly at the sight of her new friend.
“Who is that,” Brad asked in an astonished tone.
“Brad, it’s me, Sandy,” I said proudly.
One of the football players jutted his arm around my waist.
“Hi, I’m Mike,” he said with a smiling and drunken expression on his face.
He was cute, but not in the way I liked. His round and dimpled face made him look as though he were several years younger than he was.
“Hi, Mike,” I replied.
“I think Jen said I might just be your type,” he said.
I nodded as he shoved a red plastic cup, full of beer, into my empty hand.
“I’m already four drinks in; you have some catching up to do,” he said.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes, so I looked over at Jennie with a sort of surprised and disgusted look on my face as I took a sip of the frothy liquid.
“Do you wanna go somewhere and talk,” he added.
I sighed.
“Sure, let’s talk,” I said.
He grabbed me by the hand and pushed his way into the house, shooing a couple from the ruffled and musty old couch in the living room.
“Have a seat,” he said, playful pushing me down.
I wasn’t used to being pushed around by men, and I hadn’t any interest in starting now, but I wanted to see what the ‘new me’ would do.
I cozied up with the armrest and hid my face behind the plastic cup.
“I’ll get you another beer,” he said, sprinting off to the backyard.
Some cheering came from the front yard, and I was curious to see what was going on. I sat on my knees and peered over the back of the couch toward the front door. Coach Reynolds was making his way inside, a cheerleader or two in tow.
I quickly ducked behind the tall back of the couch, hoping that he hadn’t seen me. Then a shadow cast itself over me and looking up revealed that he had indeed noticed me.
“There’s no way that’s you,” he said.
“Who do you think it is,” I asked.
“Only one person I know has cheekbones like that,” he added as he paced around the couch. He plopped down by the other armrest and waved away his followers who looked at me with envious gazes.
“You made me want to try something new,” I said.
He laughed and crossed his legs.
“I’m surprised you came,” he said.
“Likewise,” I added.
“This is a good look for you. If only I were ten years younger, I might have tried harder to muster the courage to ask you out,” he said.
Ten years younger, I thought, he was still gorgeous now. I wanted to continue chatting, but Mike returned from the backyard.
“Hey, Coach,” he said while handing me the beer, “wasn’t expecting you to come.”
“Someone had to make sure you guys don’t drink yourselves stupid, just consider me more of a chaperone than a drinking buddy,” replied Coach Reynolds.
I took a long sip from the glass and felt out of sorts with the two of them here. I would have much preferred just to talk to the coach.
Mike plopped down in the center of the couch and threw his arm around me. I wanted to shove his arm off, but couldn’t muster the assertiveness to do so.
“So, Coach. How do you think we’ll do at the game?” Mike asked nonchalantly.
“I think you know where I stand on that,” he replied.
“You guys will do great,” I said, not adding much to the conversation.
The two guys looked at me, and I regretted saying anything at all.
“What makes you say that Sandy,” started Mr. Reynolds.
“Well, I’ve watched you guys practice a lot, and you guys always look good when running plays and stuff,” I said.
“If anything, they look good,” laughed Mr. Reynolds.
“Hey, you want a beer,” Mike asked.
“Sure, Mike,” the coach replied. Mike shot up, running to the backyard again.
“So, Mr. Reynolds, do you like the new look,” I asked, straightening out my top.
“Call me Jeff, Sandy,” he said.
“Okay, Jeff,” I replied uncomfortably.
“To answer your question; yes, you look fantastic.”
“Would you have talked to me ten years ago if I looked like this,” I asked.
“I’m not sure, I was pretty shy when I was younger,” he said.
“Well, if you had asked, I probably would have said yes,” I said.
He crossed his legs the other way, and I felt a little nervous baring myself like that. I hoped I hadn’t said anything inappropriate.
“You’re making me regret growing up,” he said.
“The car you drive makes me wonder if you ever did,” I replied.
He guffawed loudly, making a few people turn and wonder what we were talking about.
“I’ve had that car for far too long, I should probably buy something newer,” he said, “and more responsible.”
“I had fun on the last ride,” I said, “and hopefully it won’t be the last.”
Mike returned with Jeff’s drink and handed it down to him before plopping back into the center seat of the couch. Jeff stood up, drink in hand.
“I should probably check the rest of the party. I don’t want to see any drugs being passed around,” he said before walking away.
I wanted to get up and walk around with him, holding his arm the entire time, but I was Mike’s date for the night, and I was nothing if not honorable.
“So, where did we leave off at, cutie,” he said, starting to lean over for a kiss.
I pushed him off, trying to keep his face away from my own.
“Mike, I’m not making out with you,” I stated.
“Oh, come on. Why else did you work so hard to look good for tonight,” he asked.
A hand shot out from behind the couch, grabbing Mike by the shoulder and dragging him away. Jeff had returned and looked upset.
Mike did his best
to fend him off, but Jeff was the stronger man, and he effortlessly pinned Mike to the wall.
“I want you to get everyone together and line them up out back. We’re having an impromptu lesson for all the players,” Jeff said authoritatively before releasing Mike.
Mike scampered from the wall and started running around the house, gathering just about every guy there. It only took about five minutes before they were all crowded around in the backyard, and the other partygoers were pushed inside. Out of curiosity, I decided to listen in and hear what they were talking about.
“Are you boys kidding me?!” he shouted to the gathered players, “You force yourself on girls and think that’s right?”
The guys looked a little sheepish.
“A good man doesn’t force anything; he waits to be received and is grateful when he is.”
“Coach, since when have you had a girlfriend, though,” replied Mike, “girls are different today than when you were in college.”
“Style’s change, Mike. Girls don’t.”
“Yeah, but we’ve never seen you with anyone, why don’t we ever see you with a woman,” Brad asked.
“I’m not here to get mocked by a bunch of college kids that think they’re big time stars and are owed sex,” Jeff started. “Next time you get that feeling that she owes you a kiss or anything else, if I hear about it or see it at all, you won’t be playing,”
The guys looked around at each other.
“Sorry, Coach. I think I speak for everyone when I say this is the last you’ll hear of it,” Brad said.
“Good. And, when you meet the right girl, you’ll know,” Jeff went on to say. He saw me watching from behind the crowd and met my gaze, continuing to speak.
“Sometimes you meet the right girl at the wrong times,” he said, “and you want to do nothing more than spend time with them. But, you know you shouldn’t.
“You can’t take your eyes off them, and there’s nothing you can do.”
“Umm, coach, what are you going on about,” asked Mike.
Jeff shook his gaze from me and focused back to the crowd of players.
“It’s nothing, Mike. I gotta get out of here. Don’t drink too much, we have a game in a couple of days,” he said.
Jeff pushed his way through the group and walked towards the entrance to the house.