Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Pact:  Episode 4 -- The Booster Club Reconstituted
Part: 1 of 31
Universe: The Pact
Summary: School begins, and brings with it new challenges for the group --
including one Amy Winston.  Will she be an ally, or an adversary?
Content: mf 1st mc noncon

The Pact:  Episode 4 -- The Booster Club Reconstituted

Copyright © 2009 The Thinking Horndog

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit
is
forbidden.  Any distribution must include this note and the author's email
address. Don’t be caught attempting to make a buck off me!

Warnings and disclaimers:

This is adult entertainment!  Be warned!  If you’re not into graphic
depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you!  If you’re too young to
be
legally reading this, move along!

This is a work of fiction.  It is not intended to reflect any particular
person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form
solely in the writer’s imagination.  You get the idea.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1

	Tuesday was the last day of summer for some of the group; many were
already in sports, however, and the upcoming start of classes just meant that
they would have to mix academics with the activities they'd already been
participating in.  Martin throttled back on football, releasing the boys at
noon so they could get in a little something in the way of a last hurrah
before the grind began.

	Fernando went to work as usual and was unmolested as he investigated
his accounts on bank time, trying to figure out what had been hit and what
hadn't.  The results were more and more disturbing -- several of his lesser-
known cash accounts had apparently been discovered.  Clearly, the group was
more sophisticated than he'd hoped.  He examined his transactions of the
previous night -- had he been that sloppy?  Instead of two separate wire
transfers for under ten thousand dollars to his account in the Caymans, there
was a consolidation from one account to the other, then one large transfer!
He was going to have to be more careful -- such things showed up on the
bank's radar, not to mention that of several Federal agencies...

	What he DIDN'T see was three more transfers from his ghost accounts
that were made from his home machine, carefully timed for the period after he
went home for the day at three-thirty but still during banking hours -- AFTER
those accounts had sucked money through his carefully created holes in the
bank's security system in amounts large enough to make them suddenly visible
-- transfers that left big, fat fingerprints identifying him -- ironically
using methods that he himself had used to frame other bank employees in the
past.  Toby had learned quite a bit about Fernando's various methods of
manipulation over the past forty-eight hours from his journals and other
records and was putting it to good use.  Marta called him as soon as Fernando
arrived home, and Toby ran the carefully-crafted scripts while Fernando was
cleaning up and changing clothes, and they finished in the background while
Fernando surfed the Net for travel reservations for his planned departure on
Friday.  As soon as Toby had some evidence that the bank and the FBI and
other agencies were watching, he would add the big bang -- the transaction
flow that would clearly incriminate Fernando while emptying his accounts,
shifting funds through intermediary accounts created by Fernando that Toby
had gained access to and back out to oblivion -- said oblivion being accounts
created using anonymous credentials that Fernando had carefully created but
never used associated with a couple of fictitious holding companies.  From
there, the money would dance through a couple of other offshore accounts,
then it was going to sit -- and, after a decent interval, it would slowly
leak into yet to be created accounts for Marta and her family and the group.
Marta had no problem with this; considering the source of the money -- which
was clearly illegal -- and that fact that Toby had already allocated funds to
her from relatively safe accounts with legally straightforward transaction
histories that were twenty times the amount she had believed Fernando was
worth, she was happy to give the group their cut for assuming the risks
involved in the transactions and the rescue of herself and her family.

	Tabitha was the houseguest at the Reyes home that evening, Louise
having scripted it the day before.  Terence, caught in the middle, had to
pretend he was calling around and give Fred status reports several times
during the day designed to make Fred uncomfortable -- especially when added
to Tabitha's calls imploring him to find her a place to sleep!  By the end of
the day, Terence had told his mother in no uncertain terms that he was done
playing; Louise merely told him to relay that position to Fred, putting the
burden further on his father's shoulders.  Fred was pretty much beside
himself by the end of the day.

	Both Randy and Lon put in appearances at the Reyes home that evening
-- largely to keep Fernando from doing any in-depth analysis of his finances.
They postured and made threats, but took no sex from either Marta or
Fernando, merely leaving him agitated and obedient for another night.

                       ----------------------------------

	Wednesday morning the grind began for just about everyone in the
younger generation, with the usual first-day-back confusion.  New classes,
new teachers, the inevitable scheduling foul-ups -- not to mention the
teachers' unpredictable lists of required school supplies -- led to stress
levels being at near peak.  For Toby, though, there was an unexpected
wrinkle...

	Amaryllis Theodora Winston -- Amy, for short.  That was the name of
the new girl.  Toby sat on his high stool at the lab table in Physics, his
eyes locked with hers, his mind picking at the amazing blankness that was her
undetectable thought process.  Over the summer, he'd gotten used to being
able to obtain a gestalt of whatever was going on in the head of any female,
and, with a bit of probing, view, or even change specifics.  The girls in the
room were a background buzz in his mind -- but Amy represented a dead spot.
He directed more and more effort at determining why...

	...Until Mr. Carstairs, the Physics teacher, cleared his throat and
announced, "Given your achievements, I thought the pair of you might be good
lab partners -- but now I'm not so sure..."

	"Oh, no, it's fine, Mr. Carstairs.  I just thought I'd seen Toby
before..." Amy replied.

	"Yeah," Toby agreed, taking the cue.  "It was just déjà vu or
something..."

	"All right, then."  Carstairs turned away to do further matchmaking,
leaving Toby and Amy again examining one another.  Physically, Amy was a
mixed bag -- dark red hair done up too frizzy, bright green eyes behind thick
glasses which rode low on her slightly greasy, upturned nose.  The lips were
full, the teeth a little rabbity.  She had that puffy look to her that
freckled redheads sometimes exhibited; Toby knew she would be soft to the
touch.  Breasts were tough to get a feel for; they were there, but well-
covered.  She was a little hippy, but had decent calves -- the thighs were
hidden, but obviously had to handle the differential...  Toby took a run at
things, "There's something ..."

	"What?"

	"I'm not sure -- odd, I guess."

	Amy cocked her head.  "No kidding.  There is something up with you,
too."

	"Want to talk about it?"

	"No."

	Mr. Carstairs' bright idea hadn't been all his.  Amy had nudged him
-- pretty hard, actually -- when she discovered Toby.  Toby wasn't there;
there were fourteen boys in the room and Mr. Carstairs -- and a hole where
Toby was.  The fact that his eyes met hers from across the room within
seconds of her discovery of him -- and stayed there -- said he knew why...

	Clearly, he had no plans to talk about it right away -- but then, Amy
didn't plan to talk about her little gift, either.  It was something you kept
under wraps, as she'd learned more or less the hard way...

                       ----------------------------------

	Amy's family had occupied a nice suburban place in the Midwest, and
she'd gone to a nice, BIG school -- so big that, aside from her academic
attainments, she was absolutely invisible.  The way she reconstructed it,
she'd been sitting in a local hangout with several other girls, discussing
boys in general and the football team in particular, when she'd made an
unguarded remark about dropping her panties for the quarterback on demand.
One of the defensive line was sitting with his current squeeze in the next
booth and overheard the remark -- which got back to the quarterback pretty
quickly.

	The guy was a sleaze -- he had a public girlfriend among the
cheerleaders, but got a kick out of seeing what he could get out of the
desperate and the also-rans.  The usual procedure involved collecting the
girl quietly and taking her somewhere private and working her out of her
panties with slick lies about her beauty, etc., and how fickle the
cheerleader was and how much more worthy she was...  Smooth moves,
experience, and notoriety usually led to a quick conquest; he would pluck the
girl's virginity from her and, more often than not, hand her off right then
and there to someone else on the team -- or several someones, if the tryst
was on a Friday night after a game.  Some of the girls were so desperate for
affection that the treatment didn't dissuade them and they came back for
more, moving down the team hierarchy, usually ending up with some other team
member as a public or private piece of ass -- and a couple ended up with
positions as general sluts, to be pronged on the team bus on the ride home by
anyone who felt like it.  The whole thing had been more or less tradition for
a couple of decades, so the athletic department looked the other way,
generally.  Amy made herself a target by her remark, and moved rapidly to the
top of the list.

	"Hey, Amy!"  Reid Michaels, the quarterback, caught her in the school
parking lot.  "What's up?"

	"N--nothing..."  Amy, taken by surprise, was totally bowled over.

	"I hear you like me," Reid said, closing the distance on her and
catching her between two cars.

	"W--who...?"

	"Does it matter?  It's true, isn't it?" Reid grinned.

	"I--I..."  He was in close, taking her by the hip.  Her mind went
totally blank!

	"So, how about we go out and get to know one another a little?
There's a party at Ronnie's tomorrow night after the game..." Reid smiled
winningly.

	"S--sure!"

	"Okay."  Reid glanced around, and said conspiratorially, "Let's keep
it a secret, okay?  Melissa can be a real bitch if she thinks someone is
moving in on her territory.  Things aren't what she thinks they are -- she
doesn't own me -- but she could make things nasty for you if she heard
something, you know?"

	"Yeah, okay..."  Amy babbled.

	"Great!" Reid stepped away.  "See you then!"

	Amy was SO naïve; Reid didn't even offer to pick her up.  Instead,
Ronnie Smithson caught her between classes the next day, "Hey, do you know
where my place is?"

	"Well, no..."

	"Reid says you're coming, right?"

	"Uh huh."  Amy nodded.  Just going to one of these bashes was a major
step up.

	"Okay."  Ronnie proceeded to give her complete directions, ending
with, "Park around the corner -- the driveway and stuff are gonna be swamped
and the neighbors will freak.  Got that?"

	"Uh huh.  Sure."

	"Okay, see you there!"

	So Amy drove herself to the neighboring town to see the game,
following the team bus in the convoy there and back, and screamed her head
off as the team stomped their rivals, then was part of another convoy to the
Smithson's.  Parking around the corner led to quite a walk, as the Smithsons
lived in an upscale neighborhood with big lots where the houses sat back from
the road.  Few other people seemed to be concerned...

	Despite -- or maybe because of -- the fact that she'd turned out in
some of the more daring items in her wardrobe, Amy got some looks.  Ronnie,
who got her past the door guard explained it away with, "Reid is looking into
brainier girls -- don't tell Melissa!"  Everybody winked conspiratorially --
and Amy was in, so she let it slide.  There was beer and Amy could smell the
pot, even if she couldn't see anyone smoking.  There were pills going around,
too, which she steered clear of -- not that it did her any good.  Somebody
shoved a beer in her hand and three or four of the girls clustered around her
and teased and dared her until she finished it, which left her oddly
disconnected -- and she hadn't even SEEN Reid yet.

	Eventually, though, he swooped in and drew her away from the crowd.
He got pretty familiar right away, but she was excited and feeling this
strange exhilaration and it all felt right, so she let his hands roam while
they kissed.  Later, she would discover that the beer had been adulterated
with Ecstasy to make her more tractable.

	At the time, though, it was a fairy tale; Reid kissed her and told
her how hot she was and raised goose-bumps on her with his hands and his lips
and when he pulled her into an even more secluded bedroom, she followed
willingly.  Her clothing disappeared, item by item -- but she didn't care; it
was in the way of Reid's magic hands.  Then Reid's cock was out and he put it
in her hands and it was amazing and when he asked her to lick it, she
displayed her ignorance and ineptitude -- but Reid chuckled and told her it
was all right -- she would learn.

	Suddenly, she was on her back with her knees up, and Reid was sucking
one of her nipples while he positioned his cock at her wet, ready opening.
In a moment of fleeting clarity, she asked, "Are you using a rubber?"

	"You wouldn't like it," Reid had replied, "I don't.  If you want to
be my girl, you'll have to go on the Pill.  This isn't the time to be dealing
with a rubber, anyway -- not the first time."

	And that had been good enough; Amy had relaxed and Reid had opened
her.  It hurt, initially, but it quickly shifted from painful to wonderful
and she orgasmed, hugely, just before he flooded her with his cum.  And
then...

	And then, everything changed.  Amy lay in post-orgasmic bliss, her
mind drifting while she looked into Reid's eyes -- and Reid said, "I've had
better, but I've had worse.  Time for the next contestant."

	Amy frowned and said, "What?" and Reid cocked his head and said, "I
didn't say anything."  Then he got up and Amy was watching his face, so she
realized that he wasn't speaking when he said, "Ronnie's turn..."  Then he
DID speak, saying, "I'm sorry, Babe, but you're not really my type.  I'm
going to introduce you around some, though, and give you a good
recommendation; someone on the team is sure to like you!  Just do for them
what you did for me..."  And his mind said, "Spread yourself and bounce on
everybody's dick..."  Then he got up and popped open the door and leaned out,
yelling, "Ronnie!  Amy wants to meet you!"  And there was laughter downstairs
and suddenly a half-dozen boys' minds opened to her -- all of them
anticipating getting a fuck from her, and laughing at her stupidity!

	And then Ronnie was next to her, saying, "Do you suck, Honey?  You've
got nice lips..."  And the whole nasty scene washed over her.  Everybody knew
why she was there -- and every boy knew that she was tonight's sacrificial
virgin, to be passed from boy to boy to supplement the efforts of the regular
sluts present.  The girls she couldn't hear -- but the boys all had their
track records, right there in their heads; they were in on it, too.  She
discovered the drugs -- everything! -- and her brain exploded and she
screamed, "Go away!  Both of you!  I don't ever want to see you again!"  And
Reid looked at her with this weird look on his face and turned to leave like
an automaton.  Ronnie didn't even pack his dick back in his jeans as he
turned to follow.  The next guy in line -- she'd have known him, if she
wasn't preoccupied being furious -- stuck his head in the door, and she
yelled, "Don't touch me!  Don't you EVER touch me!" and he flew back against
the hallway wall as if pushed, turned and ran out of there.  Crying, she
collected her clothing and staggered out of the bedroom and down the hall,
yelling, "Stay away!  All of you, just stay away from me!"  Somehow, she got
to her car and managed to get home.

	They found Reid on Saturday, a good seven miles away, cross-country.
He'd walked out of the house and kept going on more or less a direct line,
headed God knew where.  He didn't know how and he didn't know why -- he
didn't know much of anything, actually.  They hospitalized him and gave him
MRIs looking for brain damage.  Ronnie was no better off, having done
basically the same thing.  Kids got scared and told their parents things, and
the authorities started looking into the affair -- and Amy got questioned at
home -- and while she had a lot to say about her treatment, she wasn't any
more clear about why Reid and Ronnie did what they did than anyone else.

	Monday, however, more anomalies surfaced.  Several boys found
themselves physically unable to seat themselves near Amy in classrooms --
which led others to wonder why and still others to fear.  Amy discovered why
herself, looking at one particular boy who was caught between a rock and a
hard place in that their English teacher dictated the seating arrangement.
While he was fighting himself, she looked at the conflict in his mind -- and
saw a mark -- a mark that SHE had placed there on Friday night.  Staring at
him fixedly, she worked on it -- and managed to remove the compulsion -- but
she had damaged him; she had damaged a couple of dozen boys that night.

	To a certain extent, they deserved it -- but it pointed back at her
too thoroughly.  Amy spent the next three days trying to fix the damage --
and learned a lot about boys, the mind, and her powers in the process.  Then
she visited the hospital to see Reid and Ronnie.

	The inside of their heads was a mess; she had blasted them with her
anger.  They were broken things, barely hanging on to some semblance of
sanity -- and she couldn't fix it.  Oh, she could pull out the major dents,
and remove the compulsion to stay out of her sight and its deeper underlying
effects -- but she had smashed at the evil that they had done to her, and in
the process there had been considerable collateral damage.  While rooting out
the evil, she took other things -- drive, tenacity, confidence, will...  They
would recover, but they would never be the same, she realized, and the fickle
finger of fate STILL pointed at HER!

	She never entered their rooms on that first visit, for fear that her
repairs wouldn't take and one of them would jump out a window or something
upon seeing her.  After that, she returned several times, making little
repairs and adjustments, and hoping that no one connected them with her
visits.

	At school, she went from being invisible to being notorious to being
a total pariah -- no one wanted anything to do with her.  There were charges
filed -- and dropped, in her case, but others were sucked into the maelstrom
as the whole ugly thing came out retroactively, touching people who had
departed and gone to colleges and professional sports and other activities.

	Having learned subtlety the hard way, Amy kept her head down, looking
for a way to get away from the whole mess.  Her Dad's boss turned out to be a
fruitful source of information and assistance; Amy worked things from both
ends, working subtly on Dad so that he met the man's expectations and upon
the man himself in order to improve her father's position.  When that fat
promotion that unfortunately required them to pull up roots and move to
another town came along, Amy pushed and pulled and Dad came home and made the
announcement -- and nothing Mom could do would dissuade him, because Amy
wouldn't let him back down.  Her brother Allen added to the pressure, and Amy
let her wishes be known and Mom backed down, unhappy, but outvoted, and
closed her little shop so they could move.

                       ----------------------------------

	So here they were -- and here she was, face to face with the first
boy since that ugly night whose mind she could not read.  Was this a good
thing, or bad?  What was his story?  Could he do what she did, or was he just
able to keep her out?  She would have more mysteries to solve with Toby than
the ones in Physics class, obviously.

	Toby had similar concerns -- what was up with this girl?  Why was she
the one chick in the universe that he couldn't hear wondering if her hair
color was too fake and her bra wasn't too visible and her panty line was
showing?  Amy gave off nothing -- nothing at all -- but she was in there, all
right, behind those bright green eyes...

	It was hard to concentrate on Physics -- the ether seemed to boil
between them.  Teams would occupy the tables next to them, get headaches, and
move away -- male AND female!

	Toby noticed it first.  Teams moved in, drawn by empty tables next to
their prime, back of the room location -- then the girls would get headaches;
he could sense their pain.  But the BOYS got headaches, too, they said...
"We need to stop," he told Amy.

	"Stop what?" Amy replied, not all that innocently.

	"What we're doing," Toby replied.  "Look around -- we're giving
people headaches."

	Amy's eyebrows flew up.  "Oh!"  Once it was pointed out to her, she
could see it.

	"Truce?  Until later, sometime?" Toby suggested.

	"I'll... try," Amy promised.  Since she didn't know what either of
them was doing, exactly, it was hard to make promises, but she let up on him
-- and nothing seemed to happen except mental sighs of relief all over the
room.  "We need to talk."

	"Yes."  Toby nodded.

	But it wouldn't be all that easy.  Toby had other distractions,
including football practice.  Pete Phifer wanted to know when they were going
to throw another big party -- or even a small one -- "anything to get a load
off."  Toby hadn't made any promises, but something was certainly due;
Fernando had tied up an incredible amount of resources.

	And then there was the incident with Little Nicky.  School was in
session, and he was back -- and that meant that he was back trying to scope
the locker rooms, it turned out.  Toby nearly locked him in the equipment
cage by accident.  "Nicky!  Dammit, you're not on a sports team!  What are
you doing here?  Never mind, I know -- you don't have to tell me."

	"It's not like that!" Nicky protested.

	"It isn't?" Toby replied.  "Look, I know you're here to look at dicks
-- someone who knows told me.  But if the guys catch you in there..."

	Nicky looked excited by the whole idea.  "Yeah..."

	"Some of them would beat the shit out of you," Toby brought him on
track.

	"But some of them wouldn't?"  Clearly, Nicky was looking for fuel for
the fire.

	Toby shook his head.  "What do you want?  Fucked?"

	"I..."  Nicky's gaze grew distant.  "Yeah."

	"Have you ever...?"

	"No."

	"You don't want to start here," Toby told him.  "Tell you what --
maybe I can come up with something.  What is it you think you want, in
particular?"

	Nicky was still out there.  "Someone big, hard -- but... easy."

	"Is age an issue?  Color?"

	"No.  Older might be... better."

	Toby sighed.  Why was HE always the pimp?  "No promises.  Give me a
couple of days.  Don't pester me about it.  And stay out of here!"

	"Okay!"  Nicky left, pouting.

                       ----------------------------------

	Fernando had a full day at work -- people seemed edgy, but he
couldn't figure out why -- followed by a stressful evening.  Madeleine's new
boyfriend spent the evening and made things very uncomfortable for Fernando.
The boy barely spoke to Fernando, and emanated anger and disapproval,
although he did nothing overt.  Fernando waited for him to go home -- and he
didn't.  Instead, he retired to Madeleine's room with her.  Fernando
attempted to brace Marta about it, and was told, haughtily, "The deed is done
- they are lovers.  We can pretend otherwise and attempt to obstruct them --
that is, I can -- but that will just drive them elsewhere.  She is safer with
him than she is with you!  Go to bed and get out of my sight!"  That left
Fernando unable to do anything in his office -- and left the door open for
Toby to fire off the sequence of incriminating transfers that would close the
barred door on Fernando, forever.

                       ----------------------------------

	Thursday morning, Fernando was up early, arranging things for Friday.
He bustled around his office, boxing and packing things and checking on this
and that -- without using his computer.  The physical moves were more
important than the electronic ones, at this point.  Toby thanked God that
he'd advised Marta to move Fernando's old journals back to his safe, because
he emptied the safe and boxed the journals.  Tonight, he would initiate the
transfers to his accounts, after the bank closed, taking his parting gift --
and he would stop at FEDEX on the way to the airport before the bank opened
to ship his mementos.  Marta didn't care what he did in his office, the
little idiot -- but that just eased the road, after all, didn't it?  Between
now and then, he would do what he had to in order to allay suspicions; if he
had to give fellatio to a football team, he would do it meekly.  Nothing
would stand in the way of his departure -- nothing!

                       ----------------------------------

	For the younger set, it was the second day of school.  After the
usual dance -- this time with Damian pretending to orchestrate -- Tabitha had
spent the night before at Horner's -- where she was welcome to stay, after
the game was over, Phyllis told her.  In the meantime, though, Louise was
calling the shots.  Trish and Tabitha were therefore standing together when
Pete Phifer and Bobby Beckwith cruised the usual cluster of black girls.
Pete, of course, was a known quantity, and considered a catch, so the girls
played up, in general -- but Bobby raised a little consternation.  "What the
fuck?" Bernice Higgins muttered as they moved on, "When did Beckwith decide
he was black?"

	"Maybe he likes black girls, Bernice," Tabitha retorted.  "It
happens, you know.  You ain't never gonna get a second glance from Pete --
maybe you ought to try out for white?"

	"He isn't gonna give YOU a second glance, either, Tabitha!" Bernice
sneered.

	"He won't have to LOOK," Tabitha retorted.  "After I fuck his brains
out a couple of times, he won't care what I LOOK like!"

	That drew gasps, but Bernice answered, "Yeah, right -- like you can
get ANYBODY to fuck you!"

	"You might be surprised!" Tabitha retorted.  "You might be
surprised."  Tabitha being Tabitha, the look on her face gave her away;
everyone present knew instantly that she was fucking SOMEBODY -- which shut
Bernice down, but just jacked up the whispers of surprise...

	Elsewhere, Amy was finding a group to fit in with.  Standing with
three or four of the girls that she obviously fitted in with, she watched the
crowd and listened to the conversation.

	"Something weird is going on," Miriam Fleiss asserted.  "Something
REAL weird."

	"I'll say!" Misha Lezynski agreed.

	Drawn by their tone, Amy interjected, "I'm new.  What's going on?"

	Miriam eyed her truculently for a moment -- and that could be
daunting.  Miriam was best described as thick; she was heavily built,
everywhere, even if she wasn't seriously fat.  She had big calves and big
thighs, wide hips and a stocky body -- a German housefrau in the making.  In
thirty years, she would undoubtedly have a HUGE ass -- it wasn't small now,
but it was proportionate.  She had washed out blue eyes, and similarly washed
out brown hair that you expected to be in a bun at the back of her head (as
it was now) or in pigtails, curled and pinned around the top of her head.
Permanently pink cheeks, slightly buck teeth, and a snub nose finished the
whole husky milkmaid look.  She was cute in the face when she smiled, but
that wasn't a whole lot of the time.  After a moment, she fished out a
photograph.  "This is the group, last year..."  The photo showed her, Misha,
another big girl, and a tiny Goth girl smiling and waving at the camera in
party dresses.  "This was the Prom -- we all went together, because nobody
had a date.  Now..."  She pointed to a spot a few feet away where a girl who
was still dressed somewhat in Goth style -- but the edges were clearly a lot
less sharp than in the photo -- was leaning against a dark-haired boy,
rubbing the arm he had wrapped around her, obviously discussing the crowd
with him and laughing.  "That's Teela," Miriam grunted.  "I didn't even think
she LIKED boys!  How did she get her hooks into Rick Flanders -- over the
summer, no less?"

	Amy shrugged.  "It happens."

	"Lightning doesn't strike twice.  That's Sally next to her, with Lon
Carpenter -- the captain of the swim team!" Miriam disagreed.

	Amy discovered the other big girl in the picture, standing next to a
blond, muscular god, blushing at the regard of several people while he very
publicly rubbed her ass.  "There's sex going on there," she opined.

	"Duh!" Misha carped.  "But how?  Sally couldn't even TALK to Lon, let
alone..."

	Amy shrugged.  "SOMETHING happened."

	"Yeah, well, whatever the magic potion is, I want a quart of it!"
Miriam declared.

	A tall, spindly, VERY black girl joined them.  "Why the look?" she
asked Miriam.

	"Look around," Miriam replied.  "Something is up -- something weird.
Sally is over there with Lon Carpenter, and Teela is with Rick Flanders --
and they both look like they've been dating guys forever..."

	"Well, it's been a couple of months," the black girl muttered -- but
it seemed to Amy that she was suddenly awkward.  "Hey, I'm Brenda."

	"Brenda is like the star of the track team," Miriam related.  "Guys
hate her.  Girls, do, too, when she shows them up on the field..."  Then her
eyebrows shot up and she went, "Urk?"

	Clint Reed came up behind Brenda and wrapped an arm around her waist,
"Hi, Sweaty."

	"Hi, Stinky."  Brenda smiled and rubbed the arm.  "What's up?"

	"Terence and Bonita just got here."

	"Cool!  See you later!"  Brenda waved gaily and followed Clint off,
leaving Miriam and Misha slack-jawed.

	"This isn't happening!" Misha gasped.  "I'm having a nightmare!
Everybody is hooked up but me -- to hot guys!"

	Miriam pointed.  "L--look!  B--Bonita...  Alyssa..."

	"No way!  The Carter brothers?" Misha gasped.  "Something is VERY
WRONG here!"

	"Can you clue me in?" Amy asked.

	"See the little Hispanic girl with the BIG black guy?" Misha asked.
That's Bonita Vasquez.  She and Brenda used to be, well, a couple.  Neither
of them had guys.  Rumor has it they were well, with each other, if you know
what I mean.  The guy is Terence Carter.  He got in trouble for fucking some
girl last year or the year before and getting her pregnant.  Nobody was real
sure whether the girl just dropped a dime on him to save her reputation or
what, but there WAS an abortion, and basically everybody figures he's, well,
you know, a black guy -- love 'em and leave 'em.  The couple next to them is
Terence's brother Damian, who's a Junior, and has a rep for being too smooth
with women, and Alyssa Hayes, who everybody KNOWS is a lesbian..."

	"Apparently he doesn't..." Amy mused.

	"Um, yeah," Miriam agreed.  "This is SOOO strange..."

	Amy had to agree.  Three girls who were at the very least unlovable,
and probably lesbians -- make that a half-dozen -- and every one of them had
a guy...  Amy reached out mentally to the Carter boys, finding two very
different males.  Damian was clearly aggressive and dominant and was
apparently in his element.  Terence, on the other hand, was totally at odds
with his rough exterior.  But both of them were absolutely certain of their
women, and at least one of them was definitely in love; Bonita's very public
displays of affection were openly returned -- although there was something
else there...

	"Amy?"

	"Mmm?"  Amy blinked.  "Sorry, did you say something?"

	"I was just wondering if you wanted to do lunch with us," Miriam
sighed.  "It looks like the group has shrunk a lot.  I've GOT to talk to some
of them..."

	"Maybe you ought to talk to the guys," Amy suggested.

	Misha rolled her eyes, "Yeah, like THAT's gonna happen!"

	"Well, I bet THEY did, at some point," Amy pointed out.

	"Ummm."  Miriam looked thoughtful.  "Maybe."  The three of them
parted company.