My Daughter's Friends: Brooke

In a mere blink, the accumulation of her scent, her looks and her warmth clashed with my first mistake. My sweatpants.

Her arm fell. Her hand dropped to her side. Yet, before her elbow swung into my stomach, she pulled it up to the stool's backrest. This made her hand shoot outwards. So outwards that, before either of us could react, the back of her fingers grazed my inner thigh and touched my half-stiff shaft.

"Oh my god!" she shrieked.

At once, we spun away from each other, me lunging backwards, her twisting to her work.

"I didn't mean to!" she cried. "I'm sorry!"

I doubled over and stumbled toward the dining room. "It's not you!" I tried to mumble. Fuck! What kind of dad gets hard around his daughter's friends?

"Oh my god." I heard her repeat in a whisper. "Oh my god. Oh my god."

Then it got worse.

When I propped my palms on the dining room table and stooped over, I noticed two girls at the top of the stairs and although I was too contorted to look their direction, I wasn't so contorted not to hear them speak.

"What just happened?" one of the girls asked.

I cringed.

"Brooke?" the girl continued.

Son of a bitch! Sophia!

Part 8: More Girls. More Problems

Poised with one hand on her popped hip, the Blonde Fox darted her icy stare from me to Brooke. Me to Brooke. Me to Brooke. She wasn't alone. To her right, Alexis, a fiery redhead, stood with her arms loosely folded across her budding chest and her cotton-plush face furled. Not good. Although Alexis's shape wasn't quite as womanly as Sophia's --she did stand a little taller--, everything else about the lean swimmer was so damn adorable. From her glasses to her slightly pigeon-toed feet, she was a doll.

"Hey, Mr. Erickson!" she said, twirling a clump of her hair and smiling. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah?" Sophia added. "Everything okay?"

Fortunately, the way I was hunched over the dining room table left me mostly turned away from the duo. Unfortunately, that left me blind to the kitchen. "Just my stomach," I said.

"Was it something you ate?" Alexis asked. "I always hate when that happens."

"Maybe," I said, forcing a smile before looking back to the spirals in the rustic table. Something I ate? I wished. All I had was half a PowerBar and maybe three quarters of an apple, both of which were on the counter.

"Brooke?" Sophia's voice rose from behind me, from the island, a moment later. "Are you okay?

"Yeah," Brooke whispered.

"What happened?"

My heartrate spiked. What happened? What if they thought I touched her? Or worse? Rumors have been spread on less.

Still stooped over, I cranked my head to the right in hopes to hear their whispers. But it didn't help. Their voices grew too quiet. To make matters more cringe-worthy, a second after, Alexis skipped up beside me and blocked my view.

"So how was your day?" she asked.

My jaw clenched. She must've had swim practice earlier today because she smelled of chlorine and her hair was damp, stringy-like. Those auburn locks often caught my attention too. One weekend last summer, when the girls were swimming in the backyard, she got out of the pool and whipped her hair so wildly it splashed me, and the grill, almost wrecking the pork chops. She just giggled and dove back in.

"It was fine," I answered, hanging my head again. "How was yours, Ms. Paige?"

"It was good," she started. "In homeroom I had my Chem final and I think I did alright on it. And then for lunch they served meatloaf. It was actually good this time."

While she summarized her day, I tried to breathe away my panic without sounding like I was hyperventilating. I accomplished the latter but my panic was persistent. Furthermore, my shaft still dangled inside my sweats like a probe, only hidden if I stayed hunched over and it didn't get any harder.

But evidently, once Alexis ended her story, it was as if she wanted to expose me and with her lotion-soft grip, she wrapped her hands around my bicep. "Your arms are really big did you know that? My fingers can't even touch."

I grimaced. I knew she was just being cute, she was always being cute, but that didn't make her little massage any less arousing. How her hands caressed me sent tingles through my thighs.

"Thanks," I grumbled. But inside, I yelled. In a few seconds I knew I'd have two problems on my hands: A confrontation with Sophia and a fiery-redhead-induced erection.

Wait... That gave me an idea. If I was fully erect, I could hide myself in the waistband of my sweats. My outfit was certainly baggy enough.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Alexis asked, her breath warm against my shoulder.

"Yeah," I told her. "I'll be fine in a minute."

But a minute, I feared, was more than I had.

With no time to waste, I looked to the adorable swimmer and soaked up every young curve of her figure, every plush line of her doll face and every squiggle of her leafy green irises behind her glasses. I almost felt sick for real. Out of all of Aubrey's friends, Alexis was the least sexy. But she did have her charms. "So how was swim practice today?"

"It was good," she answered with a pop in her voice, much like the pop in her step as she let go of my arm and took a step back. Which freed me! "I got a new swimsuit."

"That's good to hear," I said. In the blink thereafter, I spun away from her, shot my hand down my sweats and tucked myself in my waistband. Then I froze, awaiting her reaction. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's pretty," she said. "It's cerulean."

"That's sounds lovely."

"I think it is. I got it for summer. It's my first two-piece."

Still unaware if she caught me, I bunched my hands into my pockets, walked to the screen door and breathed in the spring air, my peripheral on my other problem: Sophia and Brooke huddled together at the island. Any minute now I figured Sophia would join in. Whether it was because of what happened or just because, I couldn't be sure.

"Hey," Alexis said. "Are you feeling better?"

"I think so." I nodded with a deep inhale. Much to my relief, at that point, it seemed I was in the clear. At least of Alexis. From the corner of my eyes, however, I noticed the island girls and by the looks of it, their conversation was over.

"Hey, Mr. Erickson?" Sophia spoke up, turning from Brooke and facing me as if prepared to verbally pounce. But, telling by the cheerfulness on her face, the attack wasn't going to be about today. "Wasn't yesterday funny?"

I winced. I was afraid that would come up.

"What happened yesterday?" Alexis asked.

"It was really funny," Sophia kept on. "Mr. Erickson just got home from work and was helping me and Aubrey with math when Brooke came out of the bathroom and-- "

"Sophia," I interrupted, pivoting from the screen door to face her. "Speaking of math, aren't all you girls in the same class?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. "So?"

"Well..." Before I continued, a bulb of bile shot up my throat. I always got that taste in my mouth when I had to say or do something that was dad-like. "Maybe the chitchat should wait until after you've studied. You do have your final tomorrow, don't you?"

"Oh yeah," the Auburn Doll, who was now seated at the dining room table, groaned. "That's why we're here."

"Oh, is it?" I asked Sophia.

But the Blonde didn't respond. Regardless of my dad spiel, she only stared at me with her arms folded, her hips popped and her breasts squished together. For seconds. "Fine," she finally said. "You win. But will you help me? I don't really know how to do this related rates thing."

Just then, Aubrey's and Katee's voice rose from the stairwell, which sent a jolt through my chest. The last thing I wanted was to have to deal with Katee. I was stirred enough as it was.

"Well," I started to ramble. "What if you see how far you can get on your own then if you need something-"

"I can help," Brooke interrupted me as she turned out from the barstool and faced Sophia. "Mr. Erickson just showed me how to do them."

"Really?" Sophia asked. "Are you sure you know it?"

"I've gotten the last the right."

"Yeah?" I chimed in, my focus darting from the island girls to the two brunettes in the staircase, whose heads were coming into view around the bend by the front door. "Sounds like Brooke can lead the study group then."

"What if Brooke doesn't get something?" Sophia asked. "Can I go to you?"

"Of course," I told her as calmly as I could although with Katee only a second away, Sophia posed too sexy for her own good and Brooke seemingly unaffected by what happened, my body screamed for me to flee.

"Okay," Sophia said with one of her chipmunk smiles.

"It's settled then," I said. "Good luck girls. I'll be in my room if you need anything."

"Feel better, Mr. Erickson," Alexis added, getting up from the dining room chair and crossing my path on her way to the kitchen.

"Will do."

With my head down, I then b-lined to the staircase. I almost collided with Alexis too. After the dozen some strides across the living room, I hit the steps and started to take them two at a time. However, before I made the third jump, which would've put me almost all the way up the flight, Katee froze me in my place with a greeting too hymn-like to resist.

"Hi, Mr. Erickson!"

Part 9: The Sugary Spice

Standing four steps up from the slim Latina was no way to have a conversation. The height difference made it weird but more so, she damn near stood at eye level to what I stowed in my waistband. The good news at least, since my daughter just gave me a curt, "Hey, Dad," as she continued on to her friends, who were now circled around the island, I was alone with this mocha-skinned brunette in case something slipped out.

"Hello, Ms. Rosa," I said, leaning against the wood railing like she had a moment earlier. "How was your day today?" Needless to say, my hands stayed in my pockets. But nevertheless, against my better judgement, I couldn't keep my eyes off this awe-inspiring girl.

Katee was probably the most athletic in the group. And to me, the most impressive. A star of both track and soccer, she dominated at two particular skills. The first was her ability to cross a soccer ball. That girl could bend it onto the head of even a four-footed forward from anywhere on the opponent's side of the pitch. Her teammates didn't always finish the strike though. Her second skill was that she could run, endlessly. Last summer, she did a marathon a week. The hottest one of which, Aubrey and I met her at the finish line. My strongest memory from that day was how, even drenched in sweat from the three-digit heat, she still smelled sugary.

Like she did now. I waged it was her natural scent. Come to think of it, she never wore so much as a spritz of perfume. Deodorant, yes. But other than that, it seemed she didn't need it. That wasn't the only thing about her that baffled me either.

Here was a girl with such wide hips and thin legs, running great distances should've hurt. But apparently those traits never bothered her and I wasn't about to complain about the beckoning gap between her thighs. Still, she wasn't built like a runner. Although waist down, she was muscular --hell, she had some of the sexiest calves I'd ever seen--, waist up, she looked a bit too chesty. Then again, once I overheard her tell Aubrey she wore upwards of three sports bras to keep her "girlies" snug.

Now, dressed in skinny jeans and a fitted V-neck T-shirt, she looked to be wearing just one.

"My day was long," she answered with a roll of her light brown eyes. "And yours?"

"It was fine. How was your last track meet?"

"Good," she said. "I won all my races. We still lost though. No biggy. I just run track to stay in shape for soccer, you know?"

I nodded. But she was lying a little. Cross country wasn't solely an offseason exercise for her. She needed it to curb her appetite for victory. With all the races she joined and how hard she trained, it was easy to see, not only was she the most athletic but she also was the most competitive. I often wondered: If a man provoked her to think of sex as a competition, or a means to test her stamina, would that be the type of talk to get her in the mood.

I snubbed the thought and shook my head. Yet my mind didn't stay unguttered for long.

"So," she started. "Since I plan on playing for the U next fall, do you think you'll be able to make it to any of my games?"

"That depends. Can you promise me a goal?"

She smiled, her chin tucked into the nook of her neck. "You know I've always just been there to assist the forwards and spread the field, right?" From her profile, her puckery lips looked like a heart. "I'm not really a goal scorer."

I nodded again, watching her brush her weeping willow hair behind her ear.

"Anyhow," she continued. "I prefer just being a midfielder. I think I'd embarrass myself otherwise."

"Oh I bet you'd be good in any position," I told her, oblivious to how suggestive that sounded.

"Thanks." She shied away, much like she usually did whenever I paid her a compliment. Sadly, this also curtained her coy beauty, along with her sharp, nibble-me, nose, behind her hair.

"Katee?" Aubrey then called out from the kitchen.

"Get your butt over here," Sophia added. "We're doing math!"

"Be right there," the Latina Minx shouted back. "Nice talking to you, Mr. Erickson."

"Nice talking to you too, Ms. Rosa."

And just like that, as quickly as our run-in began, it was over.

After another heart-lip smile, she popped off the banister and scurried into the kitchen. A moment later, I left as well, happy to finally be free of these girls.

"Have a good night, dad!" Aubrey yelled above her friends' chatter. "I'll holler if we need anything."

Part 10: Pre-Party Jitters

So, typically when I 'took care of myself,' I did it in my room on my laptop. But tonight, since I didn't want to hear the girls through the vents like last night, I chose to do it in my office on my desktop.

I was lucky it was Thursday. If tonight would've been Friday or Saturday, I might've ended my couple week dry spell and called Aubrey's mother. Every now and then, as long as she wasn't dating anyone, she was down for a 'rekindling.' We refused to refer to it as a "booty call."

I never minded using my office instead of my bedroom. Since none of the doors on the second floor locked anyway, the privacy was all the same. But in the case of my office, there were three memories that always sparked up when I walked in. Two of which were innocent, one of which was not.

The first memory was from the plant life. On the day Aubrey and I moved into this house, she found two ferns by the dumpsters down the road and together we nurtured them back to health. Now they sat in the windowsills, one at each.

The second was from my computer. Although most people called it clunky, that same hardware got me through the project that earned me my promotion a couple years ago. It still did the job now too. So I wasn't about to toss it out.

The last was from the pedestal desk. Almost as if designed for scandal, it had a front panel which blocked the spacious legroom beneath it where, sometimes, Renee would kneel and "help" me with my work. However, I never got much done when she did that.

No matter. Usually on nights when the breeze was cool enough to keep the windows open and hear the crickets and cicadas chirping outside, I went with a more romantic theme for my videos. But not tonight. Tonight, it was the opposite and I scoured my favorite sites for a hardcore variety of teen, interracial featuring both Asian girls and Latinas.

After I finished, I cleaned up and got ready for bed. Not surprisingly, by the time I tucked myself in, it was already 10:16 and the girls were gone. I supposed that was for the best. If they were chatting below, I would've probably stayed up to listen. But still, even with the house quiet, I took me a while to fall asleep. The last neon glow I remembered reading on my desk clock was 10:59.

I blamed that on the party.

Part 11: Eleven?

Like Thursday, Friday morning sped by. Over breakfast, Aubrey and I discussed some of the finer details about the party. I had a guy coming over that afternoon to get the pool and hot tub ready for the season in case they needed it but Aubrey thought not.

At work, almost the second I walked in, the owner called me and reminded me about the people I needed to fire. Along with that, he brought up the current state of the company's decline and, "If we don't reel in a big fish soon, you might be out of a job." I ignored him for the most part. I didn't fire those people either.

During lunch, I hit up the gym like I did on Thursday and worked out everything that wasn't sore. That didn't leave much. More so, my two day binge, rather than my usual three day routine, tired me out by mid-afternoon and in turn, I decided to let everyone off for the weekend a couple hours early. That didn't apply to me of course, but I still finished my work and clocked out at 5:14 instead of 6:45. What a difference that made. Traffic was worse but at least the sun was up and, for the first time since winter, not in any of my mirrors.

When I arrived home just after 5:40, I figured I'd be the first one to pull up. But apparently, Aubrey's friends couldn't wait to start off their summer vacation. It looked like a mad house. Besides the three cars in the driveway: Aubrey's, Sophia's and Brooke's; there were also several parked around the cul-de-sac. Admittedly, some of these may have been the neighbors' guests but I did recognize Alexis's Silver Focus and Katee's Red Malibu. Her license plates read NVRSTOP.

That probably meant running right?

With a smirk, I wedged into the driveway's last open spot, got out and took a breath of the warm spring air. From where I stood, I couldn't hear the girls at all but outside had plenty of ambient noises from the children down the road to the birds in the trees. Plus, because the house was built only a couple miles from the local airport, it had soundproof windows and thick walls, so unless the windows were open, the house muted any inside ruckus.

"Here we go," I said to myself, briefcase in one hand, keys in the other. If today was anything like the last two, I was in for my fair share of slip-ups. With another smirk, this one apprehensive, I walked to the front door, climbed the stoop and unlocked the deadbolt, crossing the threshold to a torrent of panic.

"Oh my god!" a whisper broke from the kitchen.

Clunks and clinks followed.

"He's early!" another added over the patter of feet sticking to the tile floor.

"Aubrey?" I called out from the bottom of the steps as I shut the door behind me. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, dad!" she answered.

That was lie. Her voice always ran fast when she lied.

"He's early," a different voice repeated. "You said he'd be home at seven."

"Sh," a fourth girl interrupted her.

While they bustled about, I kicked off my shoes and loosened my tie, perhaps giving them more time than I should have. But I needed it too. A moment later, I started up the stairs and looked to the island where a collage of colorful tops, blue jean shorts and bare skin scrambled.

So this is nine girls, I thought.

Once at the top of the stairs, I flung my briefcase over the back of the loveseat, which didn't wake Furric from his nap on the cushion, then continued to the kitchen. "What's going on?" I asked in stride, my tone as unsuspicious as possible even though the way the girls were clustered around the island seemed very suspicious.

For starters, each one of them had her hands behind her back and most kept their gazes down. There were four huddled in the back left corner with my daughter; Sophia and Katee among them; two blondes with their backs against the fridge; Aubrey's only dark skinned friend, Melanie, next to Brooke in the back right by the screen door and Alexis with a "Get Wet" spaghetti strap tank top on in front of the last two girls, one of which was a brunette and the other of which was a lighter-haired, redhead, on the right side of the island.