Date: Fri, 02 Jul 1999 00:42:57 CDT
From: Jack Roberts <jackro5@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Unpopular Kid (Highschool/Sports)

The usual disclaimers apply: if you local, state, or federal laws or
statutes forbid you from reading this material, the do us all a favor and
don't read it.  Neither the author nor the web hosts that you receive this
story from are responsible for any actions that you take.  And for you
really stupid ones out there, if you don't know if any regulations keep you
from reading these stories, then don't read it.  Thank you and have a nice
day, night, whatever.

This story is 90% true (you always have to add things in for smooth
transition, right?).  The names have been changed to protect the guilty.  I
like a good plot instead of "slam-bam-thank you-Sam" stories, so save
`yourself' for the `good' parts.

The Unpopular Kid

By Jack Robertson
Jackro5@hotmail.com

One more year.  I couldn't believe it.  Only twelve years before, I started
going to this school when I entered kindergarten, and now I would be
entering my senior year as a Sullivan Christian Academy Falcon.  I was
extremely happy; elated is probably a better word to use here.  Either way,
I only had one more year left and I was ready to get it over with.  But
that is not where the story starts, at least the beginning doesn't start
here.

If there was a person to blame, I guess I could blame it on my ninth grade
PE coach.  This coach was also the assistant football coach.  I wasn't the
most athletic kid; in fact, I hated sports.  Probably not because I didn't
like the game, but because I couldn't play it well.  I wasn't fat, but I
was overweight.  It still shows today.  I was also more scholastically
inclined.  At that age, you didn't see me without a book stuck in my face,
walking around and managing not to run into anything or anybody.  But there
was something else.  I was gay.  I didn't care about sex or anything like
it, but I knew that when I did start to get active, it would be with a guy.

Anyway, my coach told me to stay after PE to talk with him for a bit.  I
figured that I would get picked on by yet another superior sport loving
being like the rest of my classmates who often ridiculed me for `sucking it
up.'  But I was wrong.  Coach needed me to do him a favor.  The man who
does the football stats for the team was leaving after this year because
his son was graduating.  He needed somebody to train so they could take
over when he left.  I didn't want to do it until I thought of the up side:
I got to travel with the team, dress with the team, shower with the team,
and watch the team while they joked around in the locker room.  I agreed to
take the position, and I continued doing it until I graduated, and that is
where the story really takes off.

During the years after accepting the position of statistician, I began to
gain the respect of my fellow classmates, young and old.  I got more active
in school functions and I helped out in any way that I could.  Because I
was such a whiz at computers, the office called me out off class to work on
their computers more times than the school asshole was called in for doing
his normal routine.  I was in charge of setting up the sound system at all
events like pep rallies and after school functions like graduation and
plays.  I became such a handy man that they school rewarded me with a $125
check as a thank you, and the student body decided that I would be their
next Student Body President.  They also made me promise that I could find a
replacement for everything that I did.  So the search began for someone as
fulfilling as I was.  (Trust me, I am not really that conceded.)

During my last few weeks of my junior year, I kept my eyes and ears open
for some young kid in the 7th or 8th grade that would be interested in
helping me out.  More than that, I wanted some unpopular, nerdy, nose in a
book kid that I could help mold into what I now was.  I found that in
Justin Greenwood.  This kid was in 7th grade, about 5'1" tall, had a head
full of red hair that he didn't bother to keep in the current fashion,
always had his face in a book, absolutely hated sports, and was considered
gay by his classmates because of his lack of interest in girls.  Sound
familiar?  Except for the red hair, this kid was exactly like I was in the
7th grade.  Now I had to convince him to help me out the next year.

It took a lot of pleading, but he finally gave in after I promised him that
he could quit after the first game if he didn't like it.  That summer in
between my junior and senior year, I created a new version of my football
spreadsheet and gave it to him so that he could get accustomed to it.  We
were all set for that fall and I could hardly wait.

From the time that I saw him that summer, I could definitely feel some
homo-like vibes coming from this kid.  I made a promise to myself that I
would be completely professional in my work, unless he started something.
I still remember the face of disbelief that he made when he walked into the
locker room the afternoon of the first game and saw the star quarterback
strutting around butt-naked with his cock at half-mast.  And if it weren't
for me holding him by the arm, he would have bolted from the room when the
same quarterback turned to him and started stroking himself and asked if
Justin liked what he saw.  He calmed down a little when I explained to him
that it was just a little jock humor and that it came along with the job.

Things went well that first game.  He actually got into it.  The game must
have made a little impact, because Justin decided that he wanted to stay on
the team.

After everything from the game was recorded in the proper forms, the papers
were notified of our first victory of the season, we called our parents
were called to say that we were on our way back to the school.  Justin and
I loaded up in the Sheriff's Office van that was used to escort our bus
back to good old Sullivan Christian.  Our school is really small.  One
campus held all grades from Preschool to the 12th grade with about 700 kids
in the entire school.  Our football team is about thirty cocks strong and
fit on one regular school sized bus.  A 70-year-old sheriff deputy who
loves football games drives the van.  He totes the managers and some
equipment to the away games.

Justin and I climbed to the back seat of the van.  I stood up for my new
protege on the way to the game when some of the other managers his age
decided that they much better deserved the seat over the "red headed freak
fag."  I quickly put them in their places by telling them that if they
didn't shut up, I was going to turn them into fags by making them suck my
cock.  Justin's face turned as red as his hair, but he really appreciated
it and seemed to get along with me better on the way home.

It seemed like hours had passed by as I awoke in the van.  The sky was
pitch black and the only sound was coming from the engine of the Dodge Ram
prisoner transport and the occasional static on the police radio.  About
thirty minutes into the way home, after the managers got over their giggle
fits from farting and talking about crap, everyone managed to fall asleep,
including me.  When I woke up, I felt a weight on my shoulder and was about
to toss it aside without thinking when I realized what it was.  Justin,
during his sleep, managed to situate his head on my shoulder.  I sunk lower
in my seat to keep his neck from getting a crick, and I fell back to sleep.


I know it's not much, but there is the first installment of what could be a
new series.  If you think this has any merit at all, send me some e-mail at
jackro5@hotmail.com.  Any comments or criticism is accepted, even flames.
Maybe I can educate you in the ways of the penis.LOL.