Light of Dawn Ch. 01

The T-Bird revved it's engines. A flash of yellow metal and the squeal of tires on asphalt announced the arrival of Choteau University's star quarterback to everyone on campus. Jeff backed into his personal parking space, a space actually reserved for one of the history professors.

We stopped moving. We finally stopped moving! The car had indeed come to a halt, permitting the redheaded girl in the passenger seat to gorge her lungs with much needed breaths, breaths she had been denied while Jeff navigated the interstate. Fortunately for Dawn, she was blessed with the same healthy lungs that contributed to her father's and brother's athletic successes.

Thirty minutes on the interstate playing the automotive equivalent of leapfrog was enough to fray anyone's nerves, anyone but Jeff. While she gasped for air he fiddled with the radio, turning the dial from station to station, receiving nothing but static. He thumped the dial with his forefinger a few times then shook his head. He muttered something about picking up a new part at the auto shop on the way home.

Dawn wasn't looking forward to the ride home. Thirty more minutes of stunt-driver Jeff and she was bound to black out and gash her head on the dashboard. Spurting blood all over her big brother's restored Ford Thunderbird would definitely remove her from his list of favorite people and end their little agreement.

Riding shotgun with Jeff may have been like a time trial but it was far better than the alternative: Daddy. Her father was undoubtedly hurt when his little Sunshine begged her way out of the family minivan and into Jeff's Thunderbird. She hated the look of disappointment on his face but visions of Daddy as the chauffeur, coating her cheeks with kisses, were the stuff of nightmares. She loved her father; he was the most wonderful man on earth, but sometimes he could be such a...well, such a father.

Jeff shifted the Thunderbird to park, stomping on the gas pedal for one final rev of the engine before stripping the key from the ignition.

A circle of young women swooped on the vintage Thunderbird. At the center was a slender bottle blond. "If it isn't Choteau University's stud of a quarterback in the very tanned flesh." The blonde's southern drawl was comically thick. "Summer sure was kind to you, Jeff." She shined a mouthful of enormous white teeth. "We all just about died when they put you on the cover of that football magazine."

How had anyone seen the magazine? Dawn wondered. Jeff had purchased so many copies for his own collection that the magazine should have been sold out everywhere.

"I showed that magazine to my mama. I told her that's the handsome face that put Choteau University on the map."

Jeff removed his sunglasses. His eyes appreciated her lean body while his ears appreciated her garish southern accent. "Liza, babe, why don't we put all the flirting to bed this year?" Jeff unwrapped his fingers from the steering wheel and touched the girl's bronzed arm. "I want you want me. We're both seniors and come spring I am outta here, degree or not."

"Jeff Kramer, you just aren't accustomed to the word no, are you? You know I'm not that kind of girl." The blond wormed her upper body through the open window and smirked at Dawn. "Besides, you wouldn't want your new girlfriend to get jealous. What a pretty little thing, and lordy if she don't look young. I see you done made strawberry your flavor of the month," the blond offered Dawn a wink that was positively wicked, "or is this one cherry?"

"Oh God, Liza! Don't be gross. That's my kid sister, Dawn."

Liza's eyes and mouth opened wide at the revelation. Dawn fidgeted in the passenger seat, squirming under the gaze of the blond and her friends. "Dawn. What a perfect name. She looks sweet as sunshine with all that pretty red hair." Dawn winced at the mention of Sunshine; it was the pet name shackled to her since before preschool, a name she hated.

"Speaking of hair, what happened to yours?" Jeff combed his fingers through Liza's bleached blond hair, exposing brunette roots. "Don't tell me the sun did this."

Liza pulled the hair from his grip and smacked his shoulder. "It was a dare from one of my girlfriends in Myrtle Beach. You know how we girls love to experiment."

"I do. You experimenting with your friends is a recurring fantasy of mine." He earned giggles from most of the girls. Liza backed away from the car, back to the safety of her circle of friends as Jeff emerged from the yellow car. He was like a social butterfly, breaking free from his cocoon and spreading his wings for all to see. He called a few of the women by name, offering winks to the lucky and friendly little touches to the luckier.

The way Jeff flirted was effortless. It was like he had been put on earth for the sole purpose of charming women. Words flowed from his lips like melted butter and the women absorbed every syllable. He let them soak, no doubt debating which morsels he would devour first. With no shortage of willing victims Jeff was sure to have a busy year.

A tilt of his mouth and an arch of his dark eyebrows were the only tools he needed to transform a group of mature college women into a massive puddle of swooning little girls. Why didn't he hold a raffle? Five dollars a ticket and the winning female could spread her legs for Jeff Kramer. He would make a fortune.

Dawn knew a plethora of girls and women who would pay any price to spread their legs for Jeff. Many were her own friends. At a sleepover last year, a gathering of a dozen or so girls, her best friend Jenny had been the first to open Dawn's eyes. During an aimless session of truth or dare the question of favorite masturbation aid was asked. Jenny admitted to using newspaper clippings of Jeff. The other girls giggled fiercely before one by one confessing their own impure thoughts about Jeff.

Jenny, Amy, Blair, Kathy and the others had no shortage of graphic fantasies. It was odd to discover that her closest friends in the entire world dreamed of performing every sex act imaginable on her big brother. Dawn blushed hardest when Tara, the tiny slip of a tomboy, likened Jeff to a male Helen of Troy. She quipped that his was the face that launched a thousand fingers. Dawn wanted to disappear that night, especially after Tara jestingly accused Dawn of using her own fingers as a surrogate Jeff. The other girls cackled like a pack of hyenas while Dawn vehemently denied the accusation.

Tara's words still made Dawn uncomfortable, even now as she followed in the wake of Jeff and his cadre of female 'friends.' Unlike the girls at the sleepover, the women in Liza's group thoroughly ignored Dawn, reserving their complete attentions for Jeff. More women linked up with the circle, gravitating towards her brother. Men (well, boys compared to Jeff) were also present. They jockeyed to be first to offer Jeff a slap of the hand or a word of encouragement. It seemed that the males of Choteau University also worshipped at the altar of Jeff.

His teammates, hulking brutes who were easy to spot, occasionally passed by. They smacked Jeff's back hard and called him awful four-letter words, the twenty-first century equivalent of an 'atta boy.

Forget class, Dawn was getting her education upon the shaggy bluegrass of the commons. It seemed like the entire student body had shown up, each waiting for a turn to personally thank Jeff Kramer for existing. No wonder he had such a swelled head.

If onlysomeone would notice the lone redheaded girl drifting aimlessly in the sea of churning hormones. No one did. That was the first moment she desperately missed her group of friends. Blair was pedaling across Europe, Amy and Kathy were away at distant colleges, Jenny had taken a job at her mother's bakery and Tara was still in high school.

She would need to make some new friends, a job complicated by the brand of Jeff Kramer's sister. Everyone would be nice to her, some nauseatingly so. What easier way to gain popularity than by getting close to Jeff Kramer's kid sister? Guys and girls alike would be seeking her out, buying her lunch and inviting her to parties, all in the hopes that some sort of inherited Kramer magic had been passed to Dawn.Won't they be surprised?

Jeff stood tall among the circle. His arm draped Liza's shoulder.He was the one who filled the high school trophy case.He was the one who put obscure Choteau University in the national spotlight.He was the one who courted every passing record in collegiate football history. Compared to her brother, Dawn was painfully ordinary.

She would have happily wrapped herself in the anonymity that came from mediocrity if not for the athletic department of her old high school. During the past four years her last name was transformed from an afterthought, something she scribbled as part of her signature, to a vile and bitter curse. "Dawn Kramer," the coaches always said, "you wouldn't happen to be related to Jeff Kramer?" "Yes, he's my brother," she would answer. They'd look at her with stars in their eyes, dreaming of medals and trophies and significant raises.

Athleticism was supposed to be a Kramer family birthright. After all, the athletic gene had been passed from her father, a former pro baseball player, to Jeff, a soon-to-be pro football player. In theory Dawn should be a natural, a theory she disproved time and again. During four years of high school she embarrassed herself, (and in no particular order) the girls' volleyball, basketball and softball teams. The exact words of her freshman softball coach still echoed in her head, "You're no Jeff Kramer." Coach was right. Even as a fourteen year old string bean of a girl crying in the locker room until her eyes burned, she knew Coach was right.

She couldn't run; she couldn't catch; she couldn't throw. There wasn't much Dawn could do on the field or the court except tie her long red hair in a ponytail and look cute in shorts. It took four years of public humiliations to convince the district that she was no Jeff Kramer, just one of the many reasons why she had grown to hate him so.

"Brat, why are you hanging around?" Brought out of her thoughts, she realized he was watching her; they were all watching her. "Get your little butt to class. I can handle the cheerleaders. Lord knows I've had plenty of practice." Jeff's voice was perpetually unflinching and unconcerned. It was another reason she hated him. He turned to one of the girls; she was a carbon copy of Liza, they were all carbon copies of Liza. The poor girl giggled and swooned as Jeff removed his sunglasses, exposing a pair of deceptively soft green eyes.

Shamed into isolation, Dawn drifted across the campus for a while. Avoiding the paved walks, she let the unclipped grass tickle the sides of her feet through her leather sandals. She ended up in the University store, writing a check for an off-white Choteau U sweatshirt and a scarlet book bag. The clerk, a thick-lashed girl who probably spent each night fantasizing about Jeff, asked for her ID. "Kramer. Are you related to Jeff Kramer?" The girl at the register tapped the name printed on the drivers license.

Dawn nodded her head mechanically. She recited her unwanted motto, "yes, he's my brother."

"God, you're so lucky. If I lived under the same roof as Jeff Kramer I would just die!" Dawn wanted to tell the girl to do it anyway, but instead she smiled and nodded politely. She took the shirt and the receipt and huffed out of the little store.

After her first class Dawn happened upon Jeff as he chatted away with some dark-skinned girl on the commons. The lithe latina deserved credit; her short skirt and long legs commanded Jeff's attention better than any professor ever could. She was tall with an exotic complexion and skinny as a stick, the very antithesis of Dawn.

Claire Kramer's Celtic ancestry had put an indelible stamp on her daughter's appearance. Fiery red hair and an abundance of freckles had always limited Dawn to the classification of pretty or far worse, cute. Cute is what her friends call her, Daddy too. Occasionally one of the boys who asked her out would ramble on about how hot she was, but the estimations of horny high school boys were dubious at best. Again she cursed Jeff. He was blessed with flawless skin that could actually tan and a head of hair darker than sin, while Dawn was locked in perpetual Howdy Doody Time.

Jeff proved he was no amateur when it came to public displays of affection. He kissed the tip of the dark-skinned girl's prominent nose. He dragged a large hand across her long brown legs. Dawn followed the path of the hand to the girl's scandalous hemline and sighed.Why don't I have the courage to show a little more skin?

The baby-doll t-shirt and short cherry red shorts, both with the Choteau U logo, had caught her attention in the University store. While not as slutty as the skirt worn by Jeff's newfriend, it was the type of outfit that would grab the attention she suddenly (and desperately) wanted.

She hurried to the store as fast as her clumsy legs would carry her. The time had come, she decided, to throw off the label of Jeff Kramer's cute little sister.

***

A safe distance from the history building, Jeff profaned his professor. He strung together every cussword in existence; once the supply was exhausted he made up a slew of new ones. Dr. Miller, that sadist in a tweed jacket, had ended the very first day of class with an assignment, an assignment due the following Monday. Practice and various social commitments didn't leave Jeff with much time for studying. Fortunately, he had Ronnie.

Ronnie Dance was on the commons, pacing around the university's landmark fountain, a cement pool center-pieced with a bronze statue of the school's founder, Bertrand Choteau, rising from the mists like a mutton-chopped Poseidon. Ronnie nervously puffed on the end of a filtered cigarette. His eyes darted over the crowds of passing students.

Jeff idled next to Ronnie, grabbing the back of the younger man's checked oxford shirt. "Ronnie, old buddy." They were anything but. Ronnie was a favorite tool of Jeff's, a tool used to pass three straight years of American History. "I have a proposal for you. I need a paper written on the social connotations of reconstruction in the South; problem is, I have practice and meetings all week and a game on Saturday. The paper is due next Monday so---"

"So you need a little help," Ronnie finished, a puff of smoke accompanying his words.

Jeff didn't answer. He had bothered to harvest a trio of books from the school library, books he thrust into Ronnie's arms.

"What about my,uh, my payment." Ronnie asked, smoothing the timid edge from his voice. "I mean, do we still have the same deal from last year?"

Some people were so pathetic. "You still have trouble finding dates?" Jeff asked.

Ronnie turned red as he stuffed the books in his backpack. "The girls you send my way are of a significantly higher quality."

"I have good taste, no denying that. Did you have a certain girl in mind?"

Ronnie nodded. "The one you were talking to this morning."

"Liza?" Jeff asked. "Out of your league, Ronnie, in more ways than one."

"No, not Liza. I meant the cute redhead. The one who rode in with you. I would write you an entire dissertation for a chance at her hot little ass."

"Dawn?!" The name escaped Jeff's mouth in a shout. "You want a piece of my kid sister?"

Ronnie took a few swift steps backwards. He stumbled over a pipe connected to the fountain's filtration system and dropped to the grass. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "Oh God, I'm so sorry! I didn't know she was...I'm sorry. Don't get angry." He scrambled to his feet.

"I'm not angry." He truly wasn't. He was more amused than anything. Jeff ran his fingers through his hair as a smirk crept across his face. "I didn't really expect anyone to come sniffing around my sister."

"No sniffing." Ronnie made a motion to cross his heart. "I'm a gentleman."

Jeff knew better. This was college, there were no gentlemen here. Fortunately, he didn't need a gentleman. He needed gullible old Ronnie to write the paper. "You can pick Dawn up Friday at eight." Ronnie started to leave but a snap from Jeff's fingers stopped him. "You've got a shot with my kid sister; this paper better be up to our standards."

Ronnie nodded. He assured Jeff at least a B before dashing off.

Jeff checked his watch and noticed the hour. He reached in the basin of the fountain and splashed a handful of cool water on his sweltering face before rushing to the parking lot. He was met by a surprise. Seated on the hood of his yellow Thunderbird was a vision of loveliness. Her back was draped with a silky, fiery mane of hair. Each shimmering red strand hung limply from her scalp, draping over her shoulders and across her back, decorating her body like tinsel.

The woman's upper body was lovely but the lower body was absolutely breathtaking. Smooth, shapely legs curled across the metal hood, marking a seductive path to the most incredible ass he had ever seen. Until that moment Jeff had never really considered himself an ass man but the way the girl's perfectly formed butt stretched the pair of cherry red, knit shorts was enough to convert him. Jeff felt like falling to his knees and thanking God. It was obvious that some sort of divine intervention had put that gorgeous creature on the hood of his car. He only hoped she looked half as good from the front as she did from the back. "Hey baby, wanna go for a ride?" he asked.

The girl turned around, her mouth agape. By then, Jeff's face must have mirrored her own. It was his kid sister.How disgusting. "Dawn, what the hell are you doing here?!"

"I'm waiting for my inconsiderate brother." Dawn huffed and climbed off the hood. Her butt looked just as good standing as it did reclining. "He seems to have forgotten my ride home."

Jeff peeled his eyes from those shorts, that butt. "Whatever." He didn't feel like bickering with his gross little sister, even if she wasn't so gross anymore. He opened the door for her just as a green convertible crawled by. It's occupants, a foursome of male students, catcalled as Dawn crawled inside the yellow Thunderbird. Jeff glared at the convertible's driver, giving silent warning, then started for home.

At the very first stoplight Jeff's vision wandered to the passenger seat where those smooth, creamy legs were crossed so femininely. A honking horn and his sister's soft voice brought him back to reality. "Jeff, the light won't turn any greener."

His face burned as she giggled. Jeff extended his middle finger from the open window, holding the digit high so the car behind him could get a good look. He stepped on the gas. "I hope you're not doing anything Friday," he said.

She considered the question for a moment. "I don't have any plans. Why?"

"I got you a date."

"A date? You mean a blind date?" Her voice raised, "Jeff, I don't need help meeting men."

He glanced at her short red shorts and long white legs and silently agreed. "This guy thinks you're really cute and he wants to hook up. How often does something like this happen to someone like you?"

"More often than you think, apparently." She folded her freckled arms over her chest.

"Dawn, that's not what I meant."

"What's his name?"

"Ronnie..." Jeff thumbed the steering wheel, digging into his memory for the second half of Ronnie's name.

"Oh God, you don't even know the guy's last name. At least tell me what he looks like."

"He looks like...a guy."

"Like a guy?!" she asked. Her gaze burned his cheek. "Could you be just a little more specific. Is he cute?"

"He's a guy Dawn. We all look alike."

"Jeff, you definitely do not all look alike. Someone who spends so much time in front of the mirror should know that."