Tweens

The Best of Friends – Chapter 2
By
Caliboy1991

Aiden pulled his pillow over his head when his Spiderman alarm clock blaring at him in the darkness.

“Too damned early,” he moaned as he fumbled around for it, trying to find the snooze button. As his fingers grabbed the clock, he thought about those older boys who would happily make his life a living hell. The only way to get away from kids like that was to be stronger or faster. Stronger was probably out of the question, so faster it would have to be.

When he turned off the alarm, he swung his feet out of bed and stood up. He padded from his room and over to the bathroom and had to wait for his morning wood to go down before he could pee. After that, he put on the same pair of shorts he’d worn on Saturday and a clean tee-shirt. He headed toward the front door when he saw a light from the kitchen.

Nana called out, “That you Aiden?”

“Yeah, Nana. Gonna go for a jog before school.”

“Alright. Make sure you get back with enough time to shower.”

He closed the door behind him, “Yeah. I know. Hygiene.”

Like most pre-teen boys, hygiene was still a dirty word. Although he conceded showers served a good purpose when you needed some privacy to jerk off.

He stood on the old porch and looked down toward the quadplexes, hoping to see Wendy in the predawn light. There was nobody over there that he could see. The boy navigated the broken concrete walkway between porch and street, casting glances every step or two up the street. By the time his feet had reached the street’s asphalt paving, Aiden realized he’d been looking forward to jogging with Wendy.

He stretched his back and his legs and as he stepped onto the empty street, he looked up to see the Asian girl jogging toward him. He flashed a smile as she stopped in front of him and while jogging in place, and said, “Good morning, Aiden. Ready?”

“Yeah!”

By the time Aiden’s legs started burning, they jogged a bit further this morning than they’d done on Saturday. He slowed to a walk as his knees felt like Jell-O. He had a long way to go before he could jog the two-mile route that looped around the college.

“Oh, thank you,” Wendy gasped after sucking in a big lungful of air. “I was afraid I’d fall over dead, if we’d run much further.”

Aiden’s nod would have been more vigorous had he been less winded, “It’s supposed to get easier.”

He fell into step beside Wendy as the road curved, becoming their street. As they walked, the girl asked, “What time do you have to be at school this morning?”

“Eight.”

The girl glanced at her watch, “Are you going to have enough time?”

It was a couple of minutes past seven. The walk to school was less than fifteen minutes. “Yeah. Even time to get a shower before I go. What about you?”

“My first class is at nine.”

Curious, Aiden said, “What kind of class is it?”

“English literature.”

Aiden shrugged, “Sounds boring.”

Wendy said, “Well, next semester I’ve got to take research English.”

Aiden cocked his head, “What’s that? Your English is good enough. Why research it?”

Aiden was a bit put off when the girl giggled, “No, it’s about writing research papers and stuff. I’m not looking forward to it, either.”

Mollified that Wendy wasn’t really laughing at him, Aiden said, “I’d rather do English than math.”

“Not me,” the girl replied. “Give me negative equations any day over a split infinitive.”

When they reached the quadplex, Aiden realized he’d enjoyed the run, not just for the exercise, but because he enjoyed the older girl’s company. “Wednesday, same time?”

“Sure,” Wendy said, “You better hurry or you’ll be late.”

***

Wendy swerved into the quadplex’s parking lot as she turned her jog into a walk. She glanced down at her watch. She and Aiden had finished their two miles in twenty minutes. Now that October was nearly over, it wouldn’t take long for the cool air of the Friday morning to make her arms and legs cold. She didn’t have any classes before noon on Friday, so she was tempted to go back to bed after a hot shower.

Aiden walked around in circles as he caught his breath, “How fast this morning?”

“Nineteen minutes and forty-five seconds.”

The boy preened, “That’s a new record. If I hurry, I can get cleaned up and get up to school early.”

Over the past two months, Wendy had grown to know the younger boy pretty well. Certainly knew how much he hated the school and why. “I didn’t think wild horses could drag your lily-white butt up there before the first bell.”

He stuck his tongue out and said, “I’m failing math. If I don’t get my grade up, Nana’s going to kill me. One of the teachers has a study hall before school.”

Apart from the near-constant bullying, Aiden talked little about the school, other than to tell her how much he hated it. Even so, she assumed he was doing well, given how bright he was. Still, she empathized. While she’d done well in school and had several good friends, part of her had always felt like she was slightly out of phase with her friends. While both her parents had been grounded in their Vietnamese culture, it didn’t resonate with her like it did with them. She’d been of their culture, but not in it. And at school and with her friends, she’d been in the culture, but not of it.

She wanted to think that her situation had been worse than Aiden’s. But she’d gone to a good school, and had parents who cared. Wendy knew Aiden’s situation was far worse. The school was failing. A majority of the students didn’t have parents who cared about helping their kids. Poverty was rampant and life was hard; sometimes even brutal. The school district had a dropout rate of over twenty-five percent by the time kids were juniors or seniors.

Wendy said, “We can’t let your nana kill you. Why didn’t you ask me for help? I’m pretty good with numbers.”

The boy’s face colored a little as he shrugged. “I didn’t want to be a bother.”

Aiden’s expression made Wendy wonder if there was more to his reluctance than his response showed. She’d grown fond of the boy over the past couple of months and now considered him a friend of sorts. And she figured she’d become something like a friend to him as well. And if there was anything she could do to help him pass math, she’d be happy to do it.

“It would be more of a bother if you failed. Why don’t you bring your math book over here before our Saturday jog? After our run, we’ll figure out a study plan.”

Aiden’s expression turned hopeful as he stopped his circular walk. “Are you sure it wouldn’t be a bother?”

Wendy shook her head, “Not in the least.”

That Saturday, when Wendy opened her front door at eight, Aiden was walking circles in quadplex’s parking lot. He had a textbook under his arm. She waved at him, “Hey!”

The boy trotted over and said, “Are you sure about tutoring me? I understand if you’ve changed your mind.”

Wendy opened the door and waved him in. Once Aiden was inside, she closed the door and stuck her finger in his face. Despite the differences in their ages, she liked Aiden, even if it was simply friendship. From their first runs, he’d been unfailingly polite and friendly. And unlike the men she’d talked to at the college, he was deferential toward her. Growing up in Henry Nguyen’s house, a man deferring to a woman was something she seldom saw. And seeing it in Aiden made Wendy realize she valued that trait.

“Now, listen here, Aiden Frazier. I said I’m glad to help you, and I meant it. If I hadn’t wanted to tutor you, I wouldn’t have offered. Now shut up with trying to weasel out of it.”

The boy’s eyes were round as saucers. They’d gone jogging together close to forty times, and Wendy hadn’t known she’d had it in her to dress him down like that. From his look, neither had Aiden.

He stammered, “Uh, okay. Thanks, I think.” A moment later a glimmer of a smile tugged at his lips and Wendy felt a rush of relief that she hadn’t hurt his feelings.

Feeling particularly fond of the boy at that moment, she gave him a hug and said, “Set the book down and let’s go jogging.”

***

Aiden’s belly lurched when Wendy gave him a hug. In all their time jogging together, the only time he recalled the two of them touching was when they’d run into each other that first day. Now, as Wendy released him, he felt butterflies in his stomach as he realized he liked her hugs.

As he set the book down on the desk in the dining area, Aiden looked around. Wendy had told him her home was more like a small apartment than anything else, and now that he’d seen it on the inside, he agreed. Even so, the furniture was nice, the wooden floors were smooth and polished. Even the paintings on the wall looked expensive. Wendy was already out the door when she said, “Come on; we’re burning daylight.”

They made a few changes in their run today, adding another half mile by taking a detour through the heart of campus. And after they slowed to a walk as they reached the quadplex, Wendy said, “Do you know how many kilometers are in a mile?”

Aiden sucked in a lungful of air and liked that he didn’t feel too winded even after going two-and-a-half miles. “Uh, like two?”

Wendy walked around for a moment as her body worked to cool down. “Close. There’s about one point six kilometers in a mile. Now, how many miles are there in five kilometers?”

Aiden’s eyebrows nearly knitted together as he worked the math in his head, while he walked around, unwinding from the run. There was a note of uncertainty when he answered, “About three?”

Nodding, Wendy headed toward her small apartment, “Close. Did you know there’s going to be a five-k run the week after Thanksgiving? I was thinking about entering.”

Aiden knew he was getting better, stronger and faster. The idea of competing sounded fun. “Can I?”

Wendy nodded, “They have divisions for all ages. I’ll get us registered. Come on, let’s go take a look at your textbook.”

Aiden grabbed the textbook from the desk and sat on the couch. Setting it in his lap, he opened it to his current assignment while waiting for Wendy.

She brought over a couple of bottles of cold water and sat down beside him. “Okay, Aiden, so let’s see where you are.”

Aiden listened as Wendy explained how letters represented numbers when the number was unknown. As the freshman college student talked and pointed to an example in his book, the boy realized Wendy’s milky pale-yellow leg pressed against his pale leg. He tried focusing on her voice, although he felt a fluttering in his belly and a tingling where the girl’s leg touched his own.

“So, tell me what X means on question number three,” said Wendy.

Aiden blinked, tearing eyes away from where their skin touched. He found the question and read it, “Uh, X equals eight.”

Wendy nodded, “That’s right. But why?”

The tingling in his leg didn’t go away as Aiden worked out the math in his head. “Well, if twelve plus X equals twenty, then to find out X, you can subtract twelve from twenty. So, X equals eight.”

Wendy smiled at him, “See, you’re getting it. Look, there’s an exercise on the next page. Twenty equations. There’s some computer paper on the desk. Why don’t you work them while I go get cleaned up? Alright?”

Wendy put her hand on his shoulder and used it to help her stand up. As she started back toward her bedroom, Aiden took the book from his lap and barely bit back a gasp as he noticed his penis poking up in his shorts. Had her touch done this?

He turned and looked behind the couch as Wendy entered her bedroom. Before the door closed behind her, Aiden saw her pull the hem of her tee-shirt up and caught the briefest glimpse of her bare back.

He glanced down at his shorts and felt his dick twitch. He couldn’t help glance back at the closed door. Even though Wendy was gone, his leg still tingled where her leg had touched it. Over the past couple of months, he came to like Wendy a lot, if he were honest about it. But his body had never responded like this when they’d gone jogging. Even though he thought Wendy was very pretty in her own way, he’d never thought of her like he frequently thought of some of the girls in his class. Like the sun rising on newly planted corn, he realized she was actually friendlier and nicer than any of the girls he’d thought about at school. Still, despite being eleven and naïve, he knew well enough to know that Wendy was way out of his league. Still, it was hard to forget seeing her bare back before she closed the door.

He grabbed the paper from the desk and put his textbook back on his lap as he tried to focus on the equations. Anything but the bulge in his shorts.

***

Wendy closed the door to her bedroom as she pulled her shirt off. A quick sniff and the shirt sailed across the room and into the hamper in the corner. As she pulled the rest of her clothes off and headed toward the shower, she found she enjoyed helping Aiden. The boy was keen to learn. He just needed someone to help him connect the dots.

As water poured out of the showerhead, Wendy realized that even though her freshman year at college wasn’t turning out how she’d expected, she was enjoying parts of it. The highlight of her week was her jogs with Aiden.

As she lathered herself with body wash, Wendy muttered, “Shame he’s not in college, yet. What’s a girl to do when the best man she’s met since starting college is eleven years old?”

She’d gone to a couple of campus events since the start of the semester, hoping to meet somebody. But she’d struck out each time. She ran her hand over her stomach. It was more toned than it had been when she’d started jogging. Her legs were firmer, too. But none of that had been enough to entice any of the guys she’d met into expressing any interest in her.

As she let some conditioner do its magic in her short-cropped hair, she muttered to herself, “Why’s it so hard to find a guy who’ll treat me like I matter? I just want someone who wants to be around me, who likes me for me. I wouldn’t mind if he was smart and witty, too.”

She turned off the water and said, “Oh, who am I kidding? The only men in my life who are worth a damn are Mr. Benton and Aiden, and both are as unattainable as a snowstorm in July.”

Back in her bedroom, as she toweled off, her thoughts came back to Aiden. She enjoyed sitting next to him as she explained his math homework. The boy was smart. She enjoyed it when she could see his innate intelligence in his eyes. But the school was failing him and if he couldn’t get ahead on his own, within a few years, Wendy could see Aiden getting further and further behind, just like so many other kids in the school district.

She couldn’t do anything about the other kids, but she felt something in her heart for the boy, and said to herself, “I can keep him from failing. I will keep him from failing.”

With that promise still on her lips, she decided Aiden should get started on the next exercise after the one she’d already assigned. She wrapped the towel around her body and opened the door, “Hey, Aiden, are you finished with the exercises, yet?”

The boy craned his neck and looked back from the couch. When his eyes grew round, Wendy wondered if she should have gone ahead and gotten dressed first. But she was excited about helping her young friend and she pushed the thought aside, as the boy, eyes still wide, nodded.

“Good,” Wendy said, “Go on to the next page. There are some more exercises there. Get started on those and when I’m dressed, I’ll look them over.”

Closing the door, whether she should have opened the door covered in just her towel was on her mind. Given how wide Aiden’s eyes had grown and the goofy smile on his lips, Wendy suspected the boy may have enjoyed seeing her wrapped in just a towel.

A smile played across her face at the idea someone would find her interesting. After two months of trying to catch the attention of several of the guys in her classes, she was ready to give up on any sort of relationship. And to be honest, she felt flattered anyone, even an eleven-year-old, gave her more than a single glance.

After sliding a clean pair of panties on, Wendy glanced down at her chest. The modest swells hardly poked out from her body. They didn’t even jiggle enough for a bra to do what it did for most women–hold the girls in place while exercising. Usually, she didn’t bother with wearing one when she went jogging in the morning. And putting one on now was more trouble than it was worth. She wasn’t planning to go anywhere, and she didn’t think Aiden would notice. And in the unlikely event he did, it surprised Wendy to find that she just didn’t care. So, she donned a matching green tee-shirt with the college’s mascot on the front and a comfortable pair of shorts.

Wendy left her black hair to air dry. She wore it short in the back, well above the collar. While she liked its low maintenance, sometimes she thought that her preference in keeping it short may have contributed to some guys in her classes not giving her a first glance, let alone a second.

She gave herself a last glance in the mirror and nodded. She ran her hand across her shirt. Her boobs’ subtle curves gave scant definition to her shirt; they were barely noticeable, and that was only if you really looked. With a nod, she headed back into the living room, where Aiden was bent over his textbook.

Taking her seat beside the boy, she watched as he scribbled some numbers on the sheet of paper. She asked, “How’s it going?”

Aiden let the pencil fall into the crack where the textbooks’ pages met. “I think I’ve got it.”

“Show me.”

Wendy leaned against the boy and watched as Aiden worked through another problem. She could smell the boy’s sweat. It had dried to his shirt, which felt clammy as her arm pressed against his sleeve. There was an odor to Aiden that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. She guessed it was simply the smell sweaty boys give off after a hard day at play, or in Aiden’s case, a good jog.

When Aiden finished the problem, he glanced at her, “What?”

Wendy felt self-conscious. She didn’t really want to admit to smelling him. “Nothing. Just noticed your shirt’s still a little clammy.”

Aiden’s cheeked grew red as he sniffed at his shirt. He frowned a bit. “Sorry. I didn’t notice I smelled.”

He looked uncomfortable, which was the last think Wendy wanted. She said, “It’s no biggie.” She leaned in and smelled his shirt, “See, I don’t smell hardly anything at all. You’re fine.”

It was a lie. The smell of his boyish sweat still lingered in Wendy’s nose. But Aiden had returned to the problem.

It didn’t take him long to finish the second set of exercises. When he finished, Wendy took the textbook and checked his work. While she did that, she turned on the TV for him. After seeing that Aiden had answered all the questions correctly, Wendy closed the textbook.

“You did well. An A-plus.”

The boy’s face lit up, “Cool. If I have any questions with my homework this week, can I bring it over to you?”

“Sure.”

Wendy hadn’t seen this particular Avengers movie yet, so she propped her feet up beside her and settled in next to Aiden and watched it with him.

***

Aiden was still staring at Wendy’s bedroom door after she’d closed it. He blinked a few times. Had she really just been standing there wearing nothing but a towel? He slowly shook his head as he felt his penis poke against his shorts, again.

He pushed his textbook down as his mind played back what was now seared there. Wendy’s black hair, still wet, fell over her forehead. The towel, wrapped under her arms, covered her from her breasts down to several inches above her knees. She was just about the prettiest girl Aiden had ever seen. And even though he knew she’d never be interested in a shrimp like him for a boyfriend, he was happy that she was friendly toward him.

Even while he focused on the math problems, Aiden’s erection never entirely went away. And when Wendy came back out wearing a matching green tee-shirt and shorts, his little stiffy returned. He was thankful for the textbook and its strategic placement. After he finished the problems, and Wendy took the textbook to check his work, he crossed his legs and prayed that the way his shorts bunched up that she wouldn’t see his stiffy’s outline in his shorts. Once he had the latest Avengers movie playing on her TV, he was able to forget about his erection until Wendy finished grading his work.

After setting his textbook aside, Wendy put her feet on foot rest that matched the couch’s leather and watched the movie with him. Even while following Ironman’s antics, Aiden couldn’t help noticing Wendy’s arm pressed against his. And smell the strawberry fragrance of her shampoo.

When the movie ended, the streaming service queued up the sequel. Wendy said, “I’ll order some pizza and we’ll watch the next one.”

Aiden was game. He enjoyed sharing the pizza with Wendy as they watched the second movie. By the time the credits rolled, he could see the evening sun and realized he’d spent most of the day with Wendy.

“Oh, shit!” he muttered, as he moved his arm away from Wendy and stood. “I gotta get on home. My nana is going to be pissed.”

Wendy got to her feet, “Didn’t you tell her I’d be tutoring you?”

Aiden nodded as he grabbed his math textbook, “Yeah. But she thought I’d be home by noon.”

Wendy swore when she looked at the clock, “After five? Damn, where’d the day go?”

Aiden feared his nana would be worried sick and as he grabbed the door handle, Wendy said, “I’ll come, too. I haven’t met your Grandma yet, and I’m sure she wants to know who’s tutoring you.”

Aiden shrugged and said, “Maybe you can keep her from grounding me.”

When they reached the street, Aiden looked toward Nana’s house. Aside from the lit porch light, things looked normal. As they reached the crumbling concrete walk that led to his nana’s porch, the old woman opened the door and hobbled out onto the porch, leaning on her cane.

Aiden broke away from Wendy and hurried forward, “Sorry, Nana, I lost track of time.”

Instead of anger, there was a hint of relief in his nana’s tired voice, “I was wondering. Is this the young lady who’s tutoring you?

Aiden felt relief wash over him. He smiled and grabbed Wendy’s arm and pulled her toward his nana, “This is Wendy Nguyen,” he made sure to carefully pronounce the last name correctly, like Wen.

“Wendy, this is my nana, Wanda Frazier.” Aiden felt a bit silly calling his nana by her name. After all, she’d always be just Nana to him.

“Howdy, Mrs. Frazier,” Wendy drawled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

His nana nearly lept back, “Heavens, Aiden. I didn’t believe you when you said your young lady talks just like you.”

She recovered, “I’m so sorry, Ms. Wendy. What a horrible impression I must’ve made. The only Vietnamese folks I’ve talked to have pretty strong accents.”

Aiden smiled at his gran. She hadn’t really believed him about Wendy’s accent matching their own. “I told you, Nana.”

Aiden felt a tingle as Wendy tousled his hair, “I’m sorry about the time. We got some good studying in and then I let Aiden watch a movie and before I knew it, the day was gone.”

Aiden’s relief grew as his nana said, “I figured it was something like that.”

As the boy reached the door and turned to wave goodbye at Wendy, his nana said, “I’m just about done cooking supper. While I can’t speak for Aiden, I’d be mighty pleased if you’d stay and eat with us.”

The boy’s heart skipped a beat when Wendy nodded, “Sure, why not?”

The three of them sat around a small table to one side of the kitchen. Aiden learned more about Wendy in that hour than he learned in the past two months. He’d not even known who the Vietnamese Boat People had been. Of course, public schools being what they were, he knew next to nothing of the Vietnam War, even though Nana’s first husband had fought in it fifty years before.

He also learned Wendy was a great friend. He flushed at her constant praise, whether it was how well he had done the math exercises or as her jogging partner.

Nana gave a tired smile. “That’s my boy. Aiden’s my little angel.

His nana recounted about how Aiden’s mom disappeared from rehab, and left him with her, a seventy-five-year-old woman.

After dinner, as Wendy was leaving, Aiden followed her and Nana onto the porch. It was dark outside, save for the dim light cast by the porch light.

Nana said, “It was so nice to meet the girl that Aiden has been going on about for weeks now.”

Aiden flushed at the old woman’s words, although he knew they were true. In a world as hard as his, time with Wendy was the best part of his week.

Wendy grinned at him as she said, “The pleasure’s been mine, Mrs. Frazier. If I wasn’t training with him, I’d be a recluse, hiding out in my apartment between classes.”

Aiden’s eyes arched as his nana patted Wendy’s arm, “Then I’m doubly glad the two of you ran into each other.”

Aiden joined the women in laughing. His nana had laughed hard when he told her how he and Wendy had first met. She leaned heavily on her cane and sighed. She sounded old, “School this year is hard on Aiden. I’m… we’re grateful you’re tutoring him.”

In the poor light, it was hard to tell if Wendy was blushing at the praise. She said, “I’m glad to help, Mrs. Frazier. Aiden’s welcome anytime.”

His nana waved as Wendy started down the stairs, “Careful there, Wendy. I may just send him over every time he’s got homework. Or when I need a break.”

Wendy turned and waved, giving Aiden a quick wink, “That’s fine with me.”

Aiden’s head spun as he watched the petite nineteen-year-old head back toward her place.

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Best of Friends – Chapter 1
By
Caliboy1991

Wendy shifted her book bag from one shoulder to another as she approached the intersection. One of the trolly buses serving the university slowed to a stop near the corner, and she waited as the green and red transport disgorged a half-dozen students. Wendy’s heart fluttered at the sight of one boy. He couldn’t have been older than nineteen, maybe twenty. His blond hair reflected the blistering August sun as he strolled easily along with the others students from the bus. He wasn’t watching where he was going, and Wendy hadn’t realized she was in his way. She tried to dodge him, but the young man still plowed into her and the two of them crashed to the ground.

The young man leapt to his feet and said, “Hey, watch out where you’re going, kid.”

Wendy picked her book bag up and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“Whatever. Watch out. A shrimp like you is going to be on the tread of someone’s shoe next time.” As he hurried after his friends, one of them said, “Those Chinese students are getting younger and younger, dude.”

Wendy dusted herself off and blinked back a scalding tear. As the student disappeared into the dorm that fronted the road, she said, “I’m not Chinese, asshole.”

The street was empty, so Wendy crossed over and started walking back to her house. Still stinging from the run-in, Wendy fumed, “I’m more of a Texan than you are.”

Given blondie’s flat midwestern accent, he hadn’t been born anywhere close to the mid-sized Texas city where she was enrolled. Wendy’s parents had been Vietnamese boat people, arriving when they were still kids, just after the Vietnam War. By the time Henry and Anh Nguyen married, their own Vietnamese accents had taken on some of the East Texas dialect common along the bayous around Houston. By the time Wendy was in school, her accent was as twangy as any other native Texan.

Being called Chinese didn’t hurt as much as the other insult. Blondie had thought she was a boy. And that stung. While it was true Wendy loved a good chopped barbeque sandwich even more than a bowl of pho, it was equally true at two inches shy of five feet, she was below average for even a Vietnamese woman. Of course, her mom had been just as short and her dad hadn’t been that much taller. And like a lot of Vietnamese women, Wendy just didn’t fit the stereotypical body types a lot of the men in Texas liked so much. While she wasn’t entirely flat chested, she mostly wore a bra to keep her nipples from showing through her t-shirt.

As she crossed over a side street, she glanced back at the dorm on the edge of campus. Just a week into her first semester, Wendy really hoped she would meet some nice guys at college. She’d already decided that she just wasn’t interested in dating Vietnamese men, or any Asian men, when it came down to it.

While she’d loved her parents, Henry held a lot of traditional Vietnamese views about relationships between men and women. While Wendy’s father had doted on her, he had ordered his wife around the house and told her what he expected. Anh had simply obeyed. Wendy refused to settle for such a relationship.

“But how?” she asked herself as she continued along the sidewalk, under the old live oak trees that grew in the yards of the rental houses that were full of students. The white men she met so far hadn’t given her the time of day. And under the sweltering heat of the August sun, she despaired they ever would.

Despite how her father had dominated her mother, Wendy wished she could call her mom and ask her for advice. But that was impossible.

The reason Wendy was a nineteen-year-old freshman on the college campus was because circumstances forced her to take a year off between high school and college to settle her parents’ estate. It had happened the evening of her commencement ceremony. After her parents dropped Wendy off at the school’s official graduation party, Henry and Anh Nguyen had been killed by a driver of a semi-truck on their way home.

Wendy was sweating by the time she saw her house. It was part of a recently constructed quadplex of apartments. Each building held four large apartments, each with three bedrooms. The builders had planned to build a dozen quadplex buildings, but when the economy turned bad a couple of years ago, circumstances forced them to sell what they’d already built, which was two quadplexes and a small, detached apartment behind them, originally intended for an on-site manager.

Wendy owned it all, thanks to the attorney who’d handled her parents’ estate. Walt Benton had been a god-send to Wendy after her parents’ death. He had arranged for Henry’s life insurance and savings to go into a trust for the young woman. He then sued on her behalf the trucking company of the driver who had killed her parents. It never went to trial. The national carrier had settled for a couple of million dollars. That also went into the trust.

Once Wendy decided to attend college, Mr. Benton suggested investing part of the trust in a rental unit near the school. The rent would pay for her schooling. And that was how Wendy Nguyen owned the quadplex buildings she walked past on the way to her little apartment.

She gave an exaggerated sigh as cool air greeted her when she entered. On one side was a small living room, complete with a plush and comfortable sofa and a large, flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. On the other side was a dining room. A small table with four chairs shared the space with a desk. Behind the dining room was a kitchen with new appliances.

Her bedroom and bathroom were through a door between the living room and kitchen. The bedroom took up a bit more than half of the back of the tiny house, and the bathroom took up the rest of the space. Her ‘Uncle Walt,’ as she liked to call Mr. Benton, had outfitted the house and apparently thought she’d need a king-sized bed. She’d laughed so hard when she’d first saw it, she nearly peed her pants. The damned thing practically swallowed her small body whole.

When she’d told Uncle Walt about it, he’d just shrugged and said, “Well, you might eventually need it, once you catch yourself a big strapping Texas boy.”

Now though, as she set her bookbag on a second desk in her bedroom, she headed toward the bathroom. Going with a trend toward showers over baths, the builders installed a shower along the bathroom’s far wall. It had a rain showerhead that covered the middle of the shower and nozzles on the wall that guaranteed you’d get soaked to the skin in the shower. A long, narrow countertop that was punctuated with a sink, and a toilet completed the bathroom’s furnishing.

Wendy took her over-sized t-shirt off and dropped it on the counter. Her bra was wet with sweat, too, so it joined the shirt a moment later. Finally, she took off the rest of her clothes and got in the shower. Even though she’d grown up her entire life in Texas, the walk back from the school had sapped her energy and left her feeling grimy with sweat.

Tepid water drenched her short black hair. She raised her face into the water, enjoying how her body felt rejuvenated. She ran her soapy hands over her torso and felt the slight swells under her nipples. Throughout high school, she’d always felt jealous of girls with boobs that required a B or C cup. Girls with D cups and larger, she didn’t envy, thinking about how their backs had to hurt carrying so much weight. There wasn’t much she could do about her very modest bust. The idea of going under a knife to fix what nature gave her seemed stupid and vain.

As suds slid down the gentle swells of her breasts, Wendy spread her legs and ran her fingers down to her labia and the trail of sparse hair spreading from there. Even there, in the most intimate of spots, her DNA had conspired against her. Wendy had taken after her mother, compared to other Vietnamese women, who were more amply endowed with a thick patch of pubic hair, hers was more like a trail of bread crumbs, not particularly curly, thick or long. And now, the hair was soapy, and it felt like silky fibers under her finger. As she touched her clit, she decided not having a forest of pubes to push through wasn’t a bad thing right now.

When she came down from her orgasm, she thought back to the blond-haired young man who’d mistaken her for a boy. While she couldn’t do anything about her height and she absolutely refused to consider plastic surgery, she needed to do something to catch the attention of boys like him. She played with the small swells under her nipples and decided that she could get a bra with more padding. That would help, at least superficially.

A padded bra was fine, she decided, but it wasn’t enough, not by itself. She ran her hands down to her belly. While she was slender to a point of thinness, she had no muscle tone. Running her hands down to her legs, she felt ribbons of muscles through her skin. These muscles were under-worked, but still there. If she started exercising, she’d start to tone her muscles. She wondered if that might even help with her breasts.

Tomorrow was Saturday. If she really was serious, there was no better time to start.

***

The end-of-the-day bell rang and Aiden minded his own business as he walked toward the doors to the school from his locker, when three larger kids came from behind and knocked him into boys’ bathroom. He fell on the floor and his backpack slid across the dirty, stained tiles. The school year was barely underway, and he had no idea who these kids were.

The tallest boy, his afro closely cropped to his head, pulled Aiden up by his shirt and pushed him against the wall. “Listen up, bird shit, this is my crib and you’re going to do what I say, when I say it or I’m going to fuck you up.”

Aiden looked at the boy, who was a foot taller than his own four-fix. In fact, he looked like he’d been steeling other kids’ Wheaties for a while now. His two friends stood with their hands on their hips, laughing along with their older and taller friend.

The Wheaties thief gave Aiden a slap across the face, “Got it, Cracker?”

Aiden’s ears rang, and he hated himself for nodding. Hated his mother for abandoning him with his nana. Hated Nana for living in the worst attendance zone in town.

“Good,” WT said, as he pushed down hard on Aiden’s shoulders. As the eleven-year-old fell to his knees, he recoiled against the wall as the taller boy pulled at his pants. It didn’t take much for the ripped and torn jeans, already worn below WT’s hips to slide down. Another tug and Aiden stared at six inches of black cock.

“You know what you’ve gotta do to get out of here without an ass-beating, bird shit, so get to sucking.”

At that moment, the door swung open, and a janitor came through the door, pulling a rolling trashcan behind him. As soon as he saw the three toughs, he yelled, “What the hell?”

Aiden didn’t miss a beat. He slid between WT and another boy, grabbed his backpack and slipped past the janitor. As soon as the bathroom door closed behind him, the small boy bolted for the door, running as fast as his legs could carry him.

When he burst out the front door of the school, he didn’t stop, but kept on pumping his legs as fast as his feet could carry him across the old, broken concrete in front of the school. He managed to stay on his feet as he ran toward the pedestrian tunnel that ran under the highway that separated the school and the housing projects from the local college and the older neighborhood that was slowing giving way to more student housing and upscale developments.

Aiden finally slowed to a walk as he passed one of the college’s dorms that sat on the edge of campus. He liked walking past the campus. A majority of the students were girls, and the boy enjoyed looking at how they dressed as they dealt with the oppressive Texas heat.

He crossed a few more side streets; the houses became older and showed their age more. Many of the old homes were rental properties, full of students looking for cheap rent. Here and there, developers tore down derelict old houses and built new, expensive apartment complexes. The boy was nearing his nana’s house when he became aware he was closing the gap between himself and an Asian kid with short, jet black hair. He saw the Asian kid the previous day when he’d been walking home from school.

There were hardly any kids in the neighborhood. Most of the homes were rentals, unlike Nana’s. The kids on the other side of the highway were mostly black and Hispanic. And in an intermediate school ninety percent minority, a short, skinny white kid like Aiden might as well wear a sign that said ‘pick on me.’ Maybe this other kid attended the same school.

Before he could catch up, the Asian kid crossed the street, heading toward a new quadplex of apartments. Aiden’s heart sank as he saw the Asian’s profile. Because of the short hair, narrow frame and short stature, he’d assumed he’d been behind a boy. But the Asian’s chest had a hint of definition that made him realize his mistake. He was likely a she.

Aiden slowed down as he made his way home, dejected. After the terrible experience at the hands of the Wheaties Thief (WT for short) and his pals, Aiden didn’t want to go back to school. But what choice did he have? He was only eleven years old and Nana would make him go back, of that he was sure.

The house he shared with his nana was old. To hear her tell it, she had been born in it back when the college was much smaller and the neighborhood full of working-class people. The neighborhood had changed, the working-class people had given way to poorer families renting the homes once owned by factory and mill workers. In turn, as the college’s enrollment grew, landlords slapped lipstick on their pigs of houses, raised the rents and rented to students.

“Aiden, is that you?” A voice called out as the boy came through the door.

“Yeah, Nana.”

He didn’t stop as he headed to his bedroom. He wanted to be alone. There was nothing his nana could do to make his situation better. Nothing.

Closing the door behind him, he collapsed onto his narrow bed as tears he’d been holding back ran down his cheeks. His mom had left him with his grandmother a few years ago, when she entered a drug rehab program. Aiden had stayed with his nana after his mom signed herself out of the program and disappeared. If she had gotten clean, then the two of them could have moved somewhere, somewhere better than here, he thought. Then he wouldn’t have to go the hellhole of a school.

He pulled his shirt off and used it to wipe his eyes. He leaned against the battered chest of drawers and stared at the cracked mirror attached to the back of it. The face staring back of him was thin and pale. His blonde hair was an unruly mop on his head.

Like WT, most of the boys in the intermediate school were taller and stronger than him. At four feet and six inches tall, Aiden might not be the shortest, but he was close to it.

There was a knock at the door, “Aiden, I left you some food in the refrigerator. I’m heading over to the bingo hall for a couple of hours. Just warm it up when you get hungry. And don’t forget to do your homework.”

“Alright, have fun,” Aiden said as he heard his Nana’s footsteps and the thump of her cane as she headed toward the front door

He unfastened and pulled off his jeans, revealing pasty white legs against an old pair of spiderman briefs. When he heard the front door close, he slipped his underwear off and headed toward the bathroom. After what he’d gone through, Aiden wanted a bath; something to wash away his feelings after his run-in with those boys in the bathroom.

He closed and locked the bathroom. More out of habit than anything else. Nana sometimes thought he was still a little boy and would come in without knocking if he left it unlocked. He glanced down between his legs and his little penis may have been one reason she still thought that.

Once he’d filled the tub up with some warm water, he soaked for a bit. He let his thoughts go back a few weeks to when he’d attended Brian’s slumber party. The other boy had been one of his best friends throughout elementary school, and when Aiden received the invite, he was excited. The birthday party had been small, only five boys. And two of them, the Jackson twins, hadn’t been able to stay the night. Only Aiden and another boy named Derrick had stayed the night.

As boys that age have a tendency to do, the three of them ended up naked, measuring their dicks. Aiden had been happy to not have the smallest dick. That misfortune belonged to Derrick. While they were still naked, Brian told them he had learned something new from one of his cousins, and asked the other boys if they wanted to see.

Aiden had been curious, so he’d readily agreed. And before he knew it, Brian was jerking off in front of him. In no time at all, Aiden and Derrick got in on the fun when their dicks grew hard as they fondled themselves. It hadn’t been the first time Aiden had tried rubbing himself. Even in the fifth grade, a lot of kids were pretty knowledgeable, educated by older siblings, cousins and sometimes even uncles. But this was the first time he’d managed to have an orgasm. Even if it had been dry. What a shame Brian and Derrick ended up at one of the other intermediate schools.

And since the sleepover, now that Aiden knew what to do, he played with his dick until it grew hard, stretching out to a bit more than three inches. Once his dick was hard, he used some soap to help things along and for a few minutes as the fap-fap-fap sound echoed in the bathroom, Aiden forgot about school, forgot about bullies like WT and just enjoyed the ride as his stroked his cock.

He didn’t last long before his dick spasmed and jerked in his hand and he had the most incredible feelings wash over him even if nothing came out. But all too soon, the moment passed. He still had to get up on Monday and go back to school, and all his problems would return.

As he toweled off, he felt his legs. He ran pretty fast when he’d ran home part of the way. His leg muscles were sinewy under his skin. If he could run fast enough, he might be able to get away the next time WT and his gang try to catch him.

Still, as he dried his hair, he knew that wishing wasn’t the same as doing. If he wanted to be able to outrun school bullies, he needed to exercise. One good thing about the changes to the neighborhood, if he decided to go running, then he’d not likely run into any of the other students from his schoo.

He thought about it as he finished changing and thought about it some more when he was supposed to be doing some math homework. Finally, about the time he heard Nana come through the front door, he’d decided. He was going to start exercising. He would start running in the morning.

***

Wendy stretched her legs in the quadplex’s parking lot. She almost went back inside. It was too damned early to be this warm. Still, compared to the hundred-degree scorcher forecasted for the afternoon, it was mild, still in the mid-eighties.

She stretched her shoulders, feeling her old green high-school tee-shirt twist with her body. She had thought about wearing a bra, but at this ungodly hour, who else would see her? And even if they did, it wasn’t like there was much to see. The green cotton did a good enough job masking her modest swells. Like the rest of her work-out clothes, her shorts were the same ones she’d worn in high school. Since her parents died, she had never given two thoughts to working out and until she could go shopping, she’d make do with what she had.

It was barely eight in the morning when she stepped onto the street. Most of the college students had stayed up until one or two in the morning last night; They wouldn’t stir until close to noon, if then. She started walking as she tried talking herself into a jog. She passed by the open field next to the two quadplexes she owned; the field a reminder of the previous developer’s failure.

She’d just convinced herself to pick up her pace when she saw a boy walk out of one of the more run-down houses on the other side of the street. Like Wendy, he wore a tee-shirt and shorts. Unlike her, when he reached the street, he started to jog slowly.

Wendy matched his pace and found that it was easy going for her, as she felt the cushioned insoles on her sneakers with every step. As she matched the other jogger’s pace, she noticed he was shorter than her. With very few exceptions, most of the houses in the neighborhood were rented to college students, and she was pretty sure that the other jogger was too young for college. He might be a teenager, but she doubted it. Still, the morning sun reflected off his blond locks in a way that Wendy found pleasing.

Wendy saw they were approaching a four-way-stop. To go straight would take them into a part of town that was even more run-down than the old rental-houses around the collage. Most of the students considered it a ghetto. While Wendy found she enjoyed the pace the young jogger set, if he continued straight, she didn’t think she could bring herself to follow him.

The jogger cut across the street, crossing over to the side Wendy was on just before reaching the intersection. Wendy was so focused on trying to decide if she would take a left at the intersection or do something stupid, like crossing the street. She didn’t realize the younger jogger was approaching, and they reached the corner at the same time and ran into each other.

Wendy fell into the grass on the corner lot and landed on her backside. The other jogger fell back into the street, also landing on his butt.

The grass cushioned Wendy’s fall, and she bounced back to her feet as the other jogger sat next to the curb, wearing a dazed expression. She hurried over, “Are you alright?”

He gradually nodded his head, “Yeah, I think so.”

Wendy extended a hand. The boy was younger than she originally thought. He couldn’t have been more than ten or twelve years old. She said, “Here.”

He took the offered hand and let her pull him to his feet. As the girl let go, in the back of her mind, she noted his hand was slightly smaller than hers and smooth. As he dusted at his shorts, he said, “Sorry ‘bout that. I shoulda been looking.”

Wendy shook her head, “No, I should have been paying attention to where I was jogging.”

The boy checked his legs for cuts and scrapes before raising his face so that Wendy could clearly look him in the eyes. His lips turned into a half-smile and he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. The kind of eyes she’d expect to see in a Hollywood movie, not on some kid jogging in the neighborhood. “You’re jogging, too?”

Wendy nodded. “Yeah, I’m trying to get in shape.” The boy’s expression was disarming, and she found herself asking, “What about you? I figured most kids would sleep in on a Saturday.”

His smile widened a bit as he said, “I wish. I’ve gotta get in shape. Gonna be jogging as often as I can.”

Wendy nodded, “Yeah, me too.”

His eyes shifted as he glanced at her. Not just at her face, but at her. He glanced down at his old shoes before glancing back into her face, “Ah, I was gonna go left here, head back around college. If you…”

The boy didn’t go on. He glanced down at his shoes again. Standing so close, she could see that she’d been right. He was definitely just a kid. Definitely not a teenager. Maybe eleven. Still, Wendy found his hesitancy kind of cute.

She grinned and said, “Yeah. I’m going that way, too.”

His smile returned and a moment later, she was jogging alongside the boy. They didn’t talk as they jogged. In fact, they were a bit more than a mile into the jog when he slowed to a walk. Wendy was glad. Her leg and calf muscles were screaming at her.

The boy was panting as he said, “First time. Outa shape.”

Wendy sucked in a breath of air as she managed, “Me, too.”

As they walked along the side of the street, Wendy said, “I’m Wendy.”

“Aiden.”

She liked the name; it seemed to fit his smile.

A few steps and he said, “Are you in college, Wendy?”

“Yeah, what about you? Freshman?”

Aiden giggled. “No. I go to school at Travis Intermediate.”

Wendy liked the sound of his cherubic laughter. “So, you’re an eighth grader?”

He shook his head, still smiling. “No, I’m in the sixth.”

As they turned onto a street that would eventually curve back onto their street, his lips spread into a grin, “Did you skip a few grades and go to college early?”

“No, why?”

The boy shrugged, “You don’t look old enough to be in college.”

It was Wendy’s turn to smile. “Thanks… I think. I’m nineteen.”

Aiden tripped over his feet and nearly fell as he said, “No, way. I figured you were fifteen or sixteen.”

Wendy shook her head, “Why’d you think that?”

Aiden’s cheeks colored a bit as he said, “Well, you’re Asian and I figured that meant you were really smart and had gone to college early.”

Wendy wanted to laugh. “God, no. I’d like to think I’m pretty smart. But I never skipped any grades.”

Aiden’s pace slowed; his eyebrows scrunched up as he appeared deep in thought. “I guess that explains why you talk kinda funny.”

Wendy laughed at that. “How’s that? I sound just like you.”

The boy caught back up and matched pace with her, “Exactly. The only Asians I’ve ever seen talk all foreign-like.”

Wendy shook her head at the boy’s ignorance, “I was born in Saint Luke’s hospital in Houston. I’m as American as you. Most of my friends were just like you.”

“Just like me?” Aiden said.

Wendy offered a little smile, “White as Mrs. Baird’s bread.”

In fact, her accent had been one thing about which her parents had teased her when they were still alive. She would drag out her vowels, like most other native Texans. But to Wendy’s ears, she just sounded normal.

They jogged a few hundred more yards before slowing back to a walk as they neared the quadplexes. Wendy knew she’d be sore in the morning. She’d read that taking a day or two off between runs, at least at first, allowed the body to heal. She stopped in the quadplex’s drive, “That’s it for me, today.”

Aiden’s hair was plastered to his forehead and his shirt was wet from his sweat as he bent over, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Me too.”

As the boy started walking toward his house, Wendy said, “Thanks for letting me join you, Aiden. See you next time.”

He turned around, walking backwards along the sidewalk, “Cool. I’m gonna be back out here Monday morning ‘bout six thirty.”

Wendy nearly groaned. Her first class was at nine on Monday. Normally she’d sleep until eight. Before Aiden turned back around, she waved, “We’ll see.”

She headed inside. She was hot and tired, and it wasn’t even nine yet.

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
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