Daddy Issues Memoirs, Chapter Six: Daddy, May I Pee? by Daddy_Issues_Memoirs

Final term was heading towards an end when me and my two best friends were discussing our upcoming summer holiday during free period. Though it was only Gauge’s timetable which actually showed a blank space around this hour. Technically Siara and I were scheduled to be in health class, but why waste a perfectly good afternoon listening to why you shouldn’t use drugs, when you could also get high on them.From the top of the bleachers, we looked down at the cheerleaders who were practicing stunts on the field. Dancing around in their skimpy blue with yellow skirts. ‘‘Hey Si, when you gonna pick up your pompoms again?’’ jested Gauge.

Siara used to be part of the team, until she got kicked off for not showing up during last year’s game of the year. Only because she was too busy giving a solo performance to her college friend on the backseat of his car. The cheerleaders had hated her ever since for ruining their routine. Especially their captain Priscilla, who had taken it upon her to become Siara’s biggest rival. Going against everything and everyone she associated with. Except for Gauge, on which she had an obvious crush.

‘‘At the day they top off the pyramid with Priscilla’s head on a pike,’’ she said. ‘‘I would happily hold up the stick.’’

Gauge took another hit of the joint before passing it on to me. ‘‘Now that’d be somethin’ to cheer about,’’ he laughed.

‘‘Why would you say that?’’ I asked. ‘‘She seems awfully nice to you.’’

‘‘That’s what’s drivin’ me nuts. Can’t the chick take a hint?’’

‘‘Perhaps you should take her along on one of your adventures,’’ Siara said. ‘‘I’m sure she’ll be a lot less charmed by your blue eyes once she sees what your mouth does for other men.’’

‘‘Did! – did for other men. John’s been watchin’ my every move. He’s sworn he’s gonna kick me on the street if he ever finds out I’m hustlin’ again. And then what I’m gonna do?’’

Just recently, his uncle had discovered a message on his unlocked computer, while Gauge was taking a quick shower right before a pay date. Apparently, committing incest together and standing watch at his nephew screwing around was okay. Getting paid for it however, was not.

The squad moved over from the center of the field and assembled at the bottom of the bleachers. ‘‘Look ladies, a tramp in her natural habitat,’’ said Priscilla. ‘‘Surrounded by guys while blowing on a stick.’’

The girls laughed in unison.

‘‘Oh hey Gauge,’’ she then said in her sweetest voice. But he completely ignored her.

‘‘Maybe if you tried blowing it instead of shoving it up your ass, you wouldn’t be so uptight,’’ Siara replied, whereafter she demonstratively flipped her red bob.

‘‘We all know you prefer loose, you despicable little slut.’’

Siara’s eyes turned vicious. ‘‘So does your boyfriend.’’ And she gave the girl a wink.

Priscilla looked unsure. Someone had overheard Jimmy talking to one of his friends in the locker room. Claiming that she was a bad lay, and that he was still thinking about Siara. Who I knew had dumped him because she wasn’t as impressed with his bed qualities as he was with hers. Afterwards, the boy had denied everything of course. But the rumor was already spreading around the school. Equally, he had only been Priscilla’s second choice as well, since Gauge wouldn’t give her the time of day.

The pompom queen decided to shut up now and sat her ass down. Awkwardly combing through her blond curls while trying to restore her poise.

Gauge got up and casually threw his backpack over his shoulder. ‘‘I gotta split guys. I’m meetin’ Michiru in the library. She’s offered to tutor me in math.’’

Siara who had been lying flat out on the bench, sat up on her elbows. ‘‘So before finally using them, you thought it’d be a wise idea to smoke your brains out?’’ She shook her head. ‘‘Well, good luck with that.’’

‘‘I think he’s aiming for higher education,’’ I said. After which the three of us burst out in laughter. Making Priscilla throw another foul look.

A couple of minutes after Gauge left, coach Sullivan appeared on the field, making his way over to our side.

‘‘Oh crap, get rid of the blunt Si,’’ I said, to which she leisurely lifted her head to see what was going on. When she got hold of the teacher, she swiftly took a last draw on what was left of the joint and threw it randomly down the bleachers. Just in time before the coach arrived.

‘‘I’ve missed you two in my class. Can you explain what you’re doing up there?’’

He’d only just finished his sentence when one of the girls began to scream. ‘‘Fire! – Her hair is on fire!’’

We both jumped up almost simultaneously. ‘‘Oh crap,’’ I said.

Coach Sullivan reacted immediately and took off his sport jacket. Then he threw it over the head of Priscilla, who now screeched in terror as she waved her hands all over the place.

Luckily the fire extinguished just as fast as it had ignited.

Priscilla burst out in tears while the girls tried to comfort her and looked around in disbelief as to what had happened. ‘‘Look, there’s something in her hair,’’ said one of them.

I looked sidewise to my friend, who seemed equally stressed. Shortly after that we witnessed how coach Sullivan brought his hand to the blond curls and took out a shriveled piece of blunt. Showing it to the cheerleaders with a questionable face.

That’s when Priscilla turned around in rage, viciously looked up the bleachers and threw her finger at us.

‘‘IT WAS THEM!’’ she hissed.

***

We both got suspended for the rest of the remaining year. Only being allowed to enter the school grounds to take our final exams. We were lucky enough we were able to return for senior year, since we didn’t have the finest track record to begin with. The school board had made it very clear that we couldn’t afford any more slipups, because next time we would get expelled.

My mom was furious about what I had done. Not only had I been involved in setting a girl on fire, but in her mind even worse: ‘‘I was doing drugs!’’.

Tragedy struck again in the week leading up to summer break, when she found the stash of money I had earned with my two-day career as a prostitute. Which I had hidden under the matrass when I decided it would be best to save the cash for something positive instead of spending it on superficial things. Giving in to the advice of the know-it-all doorman who had confronted me in the lobby after my gangbang with five juiceheads.

‘‘How on earth did you get over a two thousand dollars?!’’ she screamed. ‘‘Are you also dealing the drugs? – ANSWER ME!’’

At first I denied, but she obviously was going to demand some valid explanation. So in the end I saw no other option than to just confess to her accusations. What else was I going to do, tell my mom I had been selling my butt to a bunch of men? That truth was even worse than the lie portraying me as a drug dealer.

Being the Good Samaritan that she was, my mom decided the money had been tainted by immoral deeds, and the only way to make amens was by giving it back to good cause. So the World Wildlife Fund received a big donation for their Save The Panda program, and I never saw the money again. Teaching me two things. One; never be stupid enough to hide your precious belongings under a mattress, and two; never be gullible enough to base your choices on an old man’s sob story.

Screw wise decisions, next time I would definitely choose materialism. Though contributing to the preservation of some fuzzy bear wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Being send to my godparents for the summer however, now that was a real blow.

***

I had always been found of Mark and Medea and usually I liked visiting their place. But it wasn’t precisely the way I had imagined spending my summer vacation.

During the day Medea worked at the hospital, while Mark recently had lost his steady job due to budget cuts and was now a self-employed freelancer. I didn’t know what his work field was about exactly, nor did I care. But what I did know was that it involved clients and a lot of working from home. Which made it easy for him to keep an eye on me, and difficult for me to do whatever the hell I wanted. He even had made me a list of chores around the house, to keep me occupied by ‘‘doing something meaningful’’.

The second week I was there, Medea left the house for the weekend. Her sister’s family had planned a stay at a summer cabin, and someone had to feed the cats. So by Friday afternoon, it was just Mark and me in the house.

He was my godfather whom I’d known my whole life. But since he and Medea lived far away from us, I only got to see him every once in a while. Which made it difficult to bond with him as such he ever could have become a substitute for the father figure I had been missing in my youth. We surely got along fine, but it hardly was anything more than that. But at the time I’d hit puberty, he had unknowingly contributed to my sexual awakening. That’s when I had also begun to notice how hairy his broad forearms were, and how the tendons strained in his firm wrists whenever he squeezed his large hands. Which had then quickly become my obsession.

Whenever when I would sit at the table with him, my eyes were secretly observing those hands and the vigor they seemed to possess. His fingers were exceptionally long, yet firm at the same time, and his palms were wide as if made to carry bricks. To think of it, his hands didn’t match his line of work at all. Those were not the palms of a man sitting mostly behind a desk. In all fairness he was very active in his spare time, where he would fix things around the house and tinker with his car. Such as he was doing now.