Boowie

This story has been posted to Literotica.Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.

Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*

The Friday before Valentine's Day, Cherie Anders entered Room 201, Rodney Fontenot right behind her. In the football player's arms was a cardboard box. Cherie smiled as she handed out plastic hearts with M&Ms or Skittles inside of each heart. Sister Andrea watched the proceedings with some amusement.

The second bell sounded and Sister Andrea waved to Jimmy Breaux, indicating that the chubby boy should cease his frenzied munching of the M&Ms and close the door of the classroom. Just as Jimmy started to close the door, Billy Wilson managed to scamper into the classroom.

"Skin of your teeth, Mr. Wilson," Sister Andrea smirked as Billy took the last available seat.

"What's life without a little adventure?" Billy quipped and Sister Andrea shot him a smile and a shake of her head.

"And..." Cherie said, reaching her small hand into the box.

The attractive Asian-American girl lifted the flap and looked into the empty box. Over Cherie's bent head, Rodney shot a satisfied smirk at the scrawny, unpopular Billy. Because of an incident that had occurred two years earlier, most of the athletes hated Billy Wilson and never let an opportunity pass without letting him know how thoroughly despised he was.

"I, Billy, I, I'm so sorry," Cherie apologized, round face scrunched in dismay as she turned to face the boy.

"That's all right," Billy shrugged. "Not like I really needed a sugar rush anyway."

"Well, if we could take our seats now?" Sister Andrea said tersely.

"Billy, I swear, I thought I'd counted enough," Cherie apologized again as she and Rodney took their seats.

Rodney's pleased smile told Billy that Cherie had counted correctly. Billy was sure if Cherie felt the pockets of Rodney's Cabrini High School football jacket, she'd find the extra plastic heart intended for him.

Sister Andrea quickly took attendance for the Cabrini High School senior class, then made some announcements. Once again, she stated that the time was running out for the students to apply for colleges; please meet with Mrs. Garborino if they had not already done so. She was still speaking when the first bell of first period sounded.

Cherie scampered to her locker to grab her American History textbook. When she opened her locker, a very large card fell out onto the floor. Cherie picked up the fourteen inch by eleven inch card, grabbed her textbook and hurried down the stairs to Room 114.

'Stop! Thief!' was emblazoned on the top of the card, with a sketch of a police officer, whistle in his mouth. In the middle of the card, a heart had been cut out and inside of the heart was a caricature of Cherie, her long black hair flowing behind her as if she were running.

Opening the card, Cherie laughed at the caricature of herself; the creator of the card had given Cherie long black hair that stretched out at least twenty feet behind her as she ran, a large red heart tucked under one arm. There were three police officers in hot pursuit, tripping over one another as they attempted to capture Cherie. Underneath Cherie's scampering feet, the creator had written, 'You stole my heart.'

"Where the fuck you get that?" Rodney demanded, jerking the card out of Cherie's hand.

"Hey! Give that back!" Cherie demanded, reaching for her card.

"Mr. Fontenot, you heard her," Mr. Dyers said, voice hard. "Return the card to her."

"I'm going fucking kill that little cocksucker," Rodney hissed, slapping the card onto Cherie's desk with considerable force.

"And that is one detention for you; great way to start your weekend, Mr. Fontenot," the teacher said. "Foul, vulgar and profane language shall not be tolerated in this school. Nor shall any language that threatens bodily harm to any student, faculty or other employees of this fine institution."

"Tell that pussy he is dead meat," Rodney warned Cherie, even jolting her desk with his hip.

Tucking the handmade card into her text book, Cherie took notes while the teacher droned on and on about the War of 1812 and its significance to the development of this new country. She'd felt pretty bad about running out of plastic harts and not having one for Billy. Then to see that Billy had been late arriving to the classroom because he'd been slipping this oversized Valentine's Day card into her locker made her feel even worse.

She knew the card was from Billy; he was an extremely talented artist. Examples of his work could be seen on the walls of Cabrini High School; whenever there was an event, Paulette Foster always asked Billy to do the posters.

By third period, Rodney had calmed down somewhat. He was still angered at Billy Wilson for causing him to earn a detention, a major inconvenience, but he was no longer angry with Cherie. Just before ducking into his fourth period English class, Rodney chanced a quick fondle of Cherie's compact buttocks.

"See you at lunch, Cherie," he said.

"Uh huh," Cherie said, turning and walking to her Computer class.

During lunch, Cherie and Rodney sat at the 'Elite' table. Cherie looked around the cafeteria; Rodney was droning on and on about something that held no interest for her, and saw Billy Wilson sitting at the bottom-feeders' table with all of the dorks, geeks, the losers. This was the lowest status within the school's hierarchy.

Cabrini High School in DeGarde, Louisiana had been formed by Monsignor Clarence Abrams with one purpose in mind; to create the most perfect athletic program. Of course, when he applied for a charter with the Archdiocese of Lafayette in 1989, Monsignor Abrams threw in some mumbo jumbo about laying the foundation for good Catholic adults.

But athletics was the primary goal of Monsignor Abrams. To meet and to exceed these goals, he recruited the best from the parish of St. Elizabeth. Two years into their program, the State of Louisiana cited Cabrini High School for low scholastic scores. So Monsignor Abrams began to also cull the brightest from the parish.

The hierarchy was set in stone. Male athletes, followed by female athletes and female cheerleaders. This caste was followed by the wealthiest children of St. Elizabeth. If these wealthy children should also happen to be athletes, they led the top tier of the hierarchy.

The bottom caste was appropriately dubbed the bottom feeders. These were the students that had been culled to boost the overall scholastic achievements of the Catholic High School. They were seen as a necessary irritant, a drain on the school's true mission.

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Cherie wondered as she tuned out Rodney's blathering on and on about baseball and weight lifting and his dream car, a Shelby Mustang or a Mustang Shelby or whatever it was.

"Shouldn't the smarter kids be the ones at the top? And dumb asses like Rodney somewhere down at the bottom?" Cherie asked herself as she choked down the tuna salad lunch the cafeteria served.

Arriving to Cabrini in the eighth grade, Cherie had prayed for invisibility. She was one of only three Asian-American children entering the eighth grade and was the only female. And her wishes seemed to be granted; no one noticed her.

"Hey Cherie, Rodney likes you," a cheerleader whispered to Cherie when they started their sophomore year.

"Really?" Cherie squealed, terrified and delighted.

Rodney Fontenot was blandly handsome with thick blond hair and warm brown eyes and a dimpled smile. To Cherie, to be plucked out of anonymity to elite status was thrilling, frightening and certainly unexpected.

Homecoming week in their sophomore year, three senior football players thought it would be funny to pick up Billy Wilson, one of the smallest male students attending Cabrini High School and stuff him into a locker. Unfortunately for the three whooping, laughing, testosterone driven young men, Billy put up a fight. He inflicted no harm to the three athletes but did sustain a black eye in the scuffle.

When the lock was cut off of the locker and Billy freed from the cramped confines, Billy did not give in to social pressure. He did not claim to not know whom had struck him, whom had shoved him into the locker. No, Billy named the three young men, and, to add insult to injury, pressed charges of assault against the three.

St. Thomas Aquinas Avengers still lost the game against the Cabrini Cavaliers, giving Cabrini a Homecoming victory. But the win did not mollify the athletes, did not temper their dissatisfaction with Billy Wilson.

Mark Fontenot, Rodney's cousin had been one of the three young men expelled from Cabrini. Mark's parents had also had to hire an attorney in defense of Mark's legal troubles. The fact that it had been Mark's actions that had prompted the difficulties never entered Mark's mind, the mind of his parents, or the mind of Rodney and Rodney's mother.

Cherie had pointed this out to Rodney but quickly learned that she was not allowed to have any opinion that contradicted Rodney's opinion. She did learn, if she got Shirley Fontenot on her side, Rodney would then agree with Cherie.

In sixth period Trigonometry, Cherie looked around for Billy. She really felt bad about not having a plastic heart for him; she knew she'd purchased thirty two of the small hearts. What had happened?

"Probably in the car; probably fell out," Cherie consoled herself, resolving to look as soon as she could.

After class, Cherie grabbed Timmy Prejean, one of Billy's friend and asked Timmy why Billy had not been in class.

"Family emergency," Timmy shrugged. "That's all he said; family emergency. Probably something to do with his sister Julie."

"His sister Julie? What about his sister?" Cherie asked, but Timmy scampered away to his next class.

After school, Cherie concocted a family situation to avoid a date with Rodney. She reminded him he had earned a detention and again, Rodney promised severe retaliation against Billy Wilson.

"What? Why? Why Rodney? What's he got to do with you getting a detention?" Cherie asked.

"Well, he's the one gave you that card," Rodney said after a long moment of trying to remember why he was mad at the unpopular student.

"Uh huh, and somehow it's his fault that you acted all caveman?" Cherie shook her head, turning to walk away.

"I mean, he hadn't done that, then I..." Rodney tried to justify.

"Oh, hey. Wait. Wait a minute," Cherie suddenly blurted out. "Uh, and what'd YOU get me? For Valentine's Day?"

"Oh. I uh, I was going give it to you tonight," Rodney lied.

"Oh. Really. Well, don't bother," Cherie said, turning away again.

"What? What's that mean?" Rodney demanded, grabbing Cherie's arm and jerking her backward, hard.

"Font not!" Coach Daigrepont bellowed.

"Yes sir!" Rodney said, snapping to attention.

"Font not, did I just see you put your hands on a female student?" Coach screamed, face millimeters from Rodney's face.

"No sir," Rodney denied.

"So, I'm stupid? I don't know what I just saw?" Coach Daigrepont screamed, face ruddy.

"Yes sir, I mean, no sir," Rodney quaked.

"Bad enough you're missing work-out this afternoon because you got yourself a detention but then I see you grab a girl by her arm?" Coach Daigrepont snarled. "Know what Font not? You, you're going have earn your way back on the power lifting team, hear?"

Cherie fought against the tears; she was sure there was a bruise where Rodney had grabbed her. And it wasn't the first time he'd put his hands on her.

"I'll call you later," Rodney said, cowed as he walked toward the library to serve his detention.

"Don't bother," Cherie shrilled, then hustled to the student's parking lot.

Clifton Anders Jr., her fourteen year old brother was waiting impatiently for her. Cherie ignored his sullen attitude; she had a sullen attitude to match. They drove in silence to pick up their younger brother Gary and the baby of the family, Honey from St. Richard's Elementary School.

At home, Cherie helped Xi Yu Anders, their mother. Honey was allowed to play quietly in the room she shared with Cherie for an hour before she too was expected in the kitchen. Cliff and Gary, however, were allowed to go to their room and play until suppertime. Cherie knew better than to ask why Cliff, who was fourteen, and Gary, who was eleven were not expected to help prepare the evening meal. She knew not to ask why the two boys could not set the table, why the two boys would not be asked to clear the table, wash the dishes or the pots.

As they gathered to eat, Cherie paid particular attention to how their father treated Xi Yu, his wife of twenty one years. She watched how her father treated her, his eldest child, how he treated Cliff, Gary, and Honey.

Clifton Anders favored his two sons. Xi Yu, his Korean born wife, the tall blonde Norwegian native treated with ill-disguised contempt. Cherie and Honey were not even there.

Faintly, Cherie could hear her cell phone ringing. It was Rodney; she could hear the ring tone she'd assigned to him. It rang for a few moments before dropping the call to voice mail. She gave a huff as the ring tone again started immediately. Her father looked sharply at her.

"He knows I cannot answer when we are eating," Cherie defended when the ring tone started a third time.

Her father's answer was a cold stare. Cherie vowed to kill Rodney when the phone began to ring a fourth time. Then, she would dig him up and kill him again when she heard the ringtone a fifth time.

After the meal, after clearing the table and doing the dishes, Cherie went to her room and saw that she had eleven missed calls, all from Rodney. There was a text message that simply read, 'you better call me.'

Shutting the door of their bedroom only had Honey demanding to be let in. Cherie did shut the door and called Rodney. Honey came into the room and smirked a satisfied smirk at Cherie's face of annoyance.

"You know what, Rodney: It's not, you're not worth it," Cherie said when Rodney took a breath, interrupting his complaints.

Cherie blocked Rodney's number. She also blocked the numbers of the two friends of his. She was sure he had more than two friends, but these were the only two she had the numbers for.

In the morning, before her father could order her to drive Cliff or Gary or Honey anywhere, Cherie left the house. Her cell phone was on the charger; she'd intentionally played video games on it, running the battery down to zero before hooking it up to the charger just before leaving the house that morning.

Burns & Burns Grocers Grocery store had their Valentine's Day selections in the middle row. Cherie found a large box of chocolate covered cherries and brought the box to the self-serve checkout kiosk. She had no idea if Billy even liked chocolate covered cherries but she knew the treats were her absolute favorite.

"Bet he don't even know that," Cherie muttered to herself, thinking of Rodney.

"Bet Billy would know that. Bet I'd tell him one time and he'd know that," Cherie said, running the bar code over the scanner.

Pulling up in front of his trailer, Cherie saw Billy stepping out of the single wide trailer. He seemed startled to see Cherie there.

"Hey, I, uh, hi, what? What you doing here?" Billy asked.

"I uh, here. This, this is for you," Cherie said, thrusting the box of chocolate covered cherries at him.

"I, wow, um, thanks," Billy said, blushing hotly as he accepted the box of chocolates.

"Welcome. Uh, you going somewhere?" Cherie asked, noticing that Bily had a canvas packet rolled up and his sketchbook under his arm.

"Yeah, I was going see my sister," Billy said. "She, her blood count was way off and she got sick yesterday so we had to take her in."

"In, in where?" Cherie asked, genuinely concerned.

"St. Elizabeth," Billy said, unlocking the door of his 2004 Ford Ecoline cargo van.

"Oh. That, that sucks," Cherie said, not knowing what else to say.

"Want to come? Bet she'd love to have some female company," Billy offered hopefully.

"We're not staying long, huh?" Cherie asked, not comfortable with the idea of being in a hospital.

"'Bout an hour," Billy shrugged, waiting for her to get into the van.

"I, yeah, yeah, I guess," Cherie agreed, getting into the van.

"You got any other brothers or sisters?" Cherie asked, realizing she'd been in the same school as Billy Wilson for four years, but knew next to nothing about him.

"Mm hmm; there's Frances but we call her Frankie. She's sixteen. She's a sophomore; you'd recognize her if you saw her. Then there's Trevor. He's twelve. Julie's eleven and then there's Randy and Paul; the twins. They're eight."

"So, they all live with you? No wonder you need such a big van," Cherie said.

"Mm hmm. Right now? They're all with my dad," Billy said.

The tone of his voice let Cherie know Billy did not have a very high opinion of his father. Cherie waited to see if there was anything forthcoming but he'd lapsed into silence as he drove.

"Um, so, your mom and dad are divorced?" Cherie asked as Billy put on his turn signal to pull into the hosptital parking lot.

"Yeah," Billy spat. "Chicken shit jumped ship minute we found out Julie's sick. Leaves my mom with all us kids and a shit load of bills."

"That, that sucks," Cherie said, again, not knowing what else to say.

"So, when it's his weekend, my Mom runs off with Miss Crystal for a girls' weekend," Billy smirked as he parked. "Minute I turned eighteen I told my dad he can suck my dick he thinks I'm spending one minute with him."

"A girls' weekend, huh?" Cherie said, trying to switch the topic from Billy's father's shortcomings.

"Mm hmm. She and Miss Crystal get into Miss Crystal's hot tub and smoke a bunch of weed," Billy confided.

"I uh..." Cherie said.

"Hey, she's got six kids, a bunch of medical bills and all this other shit going on," Billy defended his mother's actions. "So she goes off with her girlfriend, gets a little fucked up, huh?"

They entered the hospital and Billy pressed the elevator button. They got off on the pediatric floor and Billy walked up to the nurse's station. A bald headed woman smiled an affectionate smile at the sight of Billy.

"Hey," Ms. Madison," Billy said, approaching the nurse.

"Hi Boowie," Madison said.

"Hey, Happy Valentine's Day," Billy said, placing the box of chocolate covered cherries onto the ledge of the desk.

"Hey!" Cherie protested.

"Hey, these nurses? They bust their asses every day here," Billy said.

"Yeah, but..." Cherie said as Billy walked to an open doorway.

"And, what'd she call you?" Cherie asked, following Billy into the Pediatric Oncology Ward.

"Boowie. When Frankie was a baby she couldn't say 'Billy,'" Billy explained.

"Boowie!" a small girl called out from her bed.

"Hey Julie," Billy smiled, bending and hugging his sister.

The relationship was unmistakable. Julie looked just like her brother, except she had long brown hair instead of a poorly done hack job. They both had the same warm brown eyes, the same sharply pointed nose, the same scrawny physique, the same short stature.

"Who's this?" Julie asked, looking at Cherie.

"This is Cherie; she goes to my school," Billy said.

"Hi," Cherie smiled as Billy unrolled his canvas pack.

"You Boowie's girlfriend?" Julie asked.

"No, not really," Cherie answered. "I mean, I'm a girl. And I'm his friend, but..."

Billy looked up from his packet of colored pencils and regarded Cherie with a raised eyebrow. He then quickly sketched a caricature of Julie, hair a tousled mess. For added insult, he added a huge snot bubble of brilliant green.