While there are some that might have felt that Suzie was in complete control of the relationship between her and Sean, she had gotten used to having him around. After all, she had fantasized about having him for a boyfriend for years and the reality had far exceeded fantasy. The lack of intimacy for the past three days had driven home the point that she was just as much in love with him as he was with her. She didn't know how she would last another day without wrapping herself around him.
When Sean arrived at his truck to meet with Suzie to give her a ride home, she walked over to him with her arms outstretched to give him a kiss. As soon as she stepped within four feet of him, she stepped back and said, "Whoa. I thought that smell of garlic would be gone by now."
"Sorry," Sean said disappointed that the closest she could get to him was four feet. Of course, what really disappointed him was that he hadn't kissed her in three days.
Suzie sighed and said, "This has got to come to an end soon."
"Yeah," Sean said.
"I can't take it much longer," Suzie said. She tried to step closer, but the odor of garlic drove her back.
"Same here," Sean said.
Licking her lips, Suzie said, "I was looking forward to spending the night with you last Saturday night."
"I wasn't feeling well," Sean said getting seriously depressed.
"I had all kinds of ideas for that night," Suzie said. She ran her hands over her chest and then hugged herself in frustration.
"Uh," Sean said watching her hands.
She rubbed her legs together and said, "I can't stand it."
"Ug," Sean said.
"You've got to do something. If I can't get my hands on you I'm going to explode," Suzie said. Her entire body undulated in an extremely sexy manner.
"Dim bumb," Sean said.
"Do something," Suzie said impatiently.
Entranced, Sean stepped forward to kiss her, but the odor of garlic forced her back. Hurt by her reaction, he said, "Ing mung mim, awww."
"It is too strong," Suzie said near tears.
Sean thought about what Mr. Booker had suggested about sweating the garlic from his system. Despite that fact that he didn't really like the idea of visiting Coach Slaughter, he was beginning to get desperate. He said, "I go slaughter and sweat."
"Huh?" Suzie asked.
"Coach Slaughter sweat, I go."
"What are you going to do to Coach Slaughter?" Suzie asked confused.
Sean took a deep breath in an attempt to gain control over his hormones and said, "I'll go to Coach Slaughter and sweat in his sauna."
"He has a sauna?" Suzie asked.
"Yes," Sean said.
Thinking about it, Suzie said, "That just might work."
"Mr. Booker suggested it," Sean said frustrated by his overwhelming desire to wrap his arms around her.
Pointing to the truck, Suzie said, "Go there now!"
Worried about the kind of welcome he would receive, Sean knocked on the front door of Coach Slaughter's house. The door opened and the Coach started to say something until overpowered by the odor of garlic. He stepped back and shook his head. The effect of getting hit with the garlic odor was the same as having an ammonia capsule broken under his nose. It definitely cleared his sinuses. Sean took advantage of the distraction to say, "Hello Coach Slaughter."
"It's you," Coach Slaughter said.
"Yes," Sean said wiggling his eyebrows.
"What are you doing here?" Coach Slaughter asked convinced that nothing good was going to come of this.
"Mr. Booker suggested that I come over to talk football with you."
"Football?" Coach Slaughter asked knowing that Sean was not athletically inclined. He was still trying to figure out how Sean had managed to beat him in the pushup contest. He wondered if breath that bad would force the ground to push him away.
"Oh and to borrow your Sauna so that I could get rid of the garlic smell," Sean said. Suzie had been rather assertive in demanding that he get rid of the garlic smell as quick as possible.
Coach Slaughter looked down at Sean's scrawny legs and then said, "You could just run thirty laps and sweat that garlic smell away."
"I told Mr. Booker that you would say that," Sean said thinking that this hadn't really been all that great of an idea. He added, "Mr. Booker said that you would be interested in my suggestions about how you might start winning football games."
"Mr. Booker, eh?" Coach Slaughter asked. The librarian had found him some books on football to read when he had gotten the job as a coach. He jogged on occasion and was a descent enough jogging partner.
"That's right," Sean said. He figured the Coach didn't think too much of Mr. Booker. A male librarian was probably not too high up on the food chain as far as athletes were concerned.
"He's a good man. We occasionally jog together in the morning," Coach Slaughter said opening the door a little wider. Half tempted to tell Sean to leave; he gave Mr. Booker the benefit of the doubt and decided that he would listen to what Sean had to say. He grunted, "Come in."
"To my parlor said the spider to the fly," Sean said peering into the house. He figured that the Coach had torture equipment in the form of exercise equipment in every room of the house.
"Come in," Coach Slaughter repeated making sure that he kept far enough away from the cloud of garlic fumes that surrounded Sean.
Sean stepped through the door and looked around the room. It looked like a normal living room. It even had furniture instead of exercise bikes and rowing machines. He said, "Nice."
"You look surprised," Coach Slaughter said.
"I was expecting exercise equipment," Sean said relaxing a little.
Coach Slaughter raised an eyebrow, but said, "So what is this about talking football?"
"You need to take Ms. Woodhill as an assistant coach," Sean said.
Coach Slaughter laughed at the suggestion and said, "She knows nothing about the game."
Sean said, "She knows more about it than you."
"How can you possibly say that?" Coach Slaughter asked.
"Quite easily. I can even say it three times in a row real fast," Sean said.
Shaking his head, Coach Slaughter said, "Tell me one thing that can convince me of that."
"Her twin brother is the quarterback of the Florida Fishes and her boyfriend is a coach for the Fighting Tigers. She actually knows a lot about the game according to Coach Reynolds," Sean replied. He paused and said, "That's two things. Sean, my boy, you are an overachiever."
"You're kidding?" Coach Slaughter said. He had met Coach Reynolds at a coaching camp the previous summer.
"No. I really am an overachiever," Sean said.
"Not that. Her brother and boyfriend thing," Coach Slaughter said.
"Her twin brother is Carl Woodhill," Sean said.
"I've heard of him. I didn't know he was related to her," Coach Slaughter said. There was no way that someone growing up with a football player of that stature could help but know a lot about the game.
"She's got a boyfriend who isn't her brother but used to play with his brother," Sean said.
"Coach Reynolds?"
"Right. He was telling us that he often goes over game tapes with her to help spot problems with the offense for their team," Sean said.
"She calls the quarterback the pitcher," Coach Slaughter said unable to believe what Sean was telling him. Everything she said about sports, suggested that she knew less about football than he did.
"She's just having a little fun with people. Like me, she's a lot smarter than people think," Sean said.
"And she's just as irritating," Coach Slaughter said.
"Talk to her," Sean said.
"I'll talk to her," Coach Slaughter said. He had never really liked the ditzy English teacher since she was always spouting poetry in his general direction.
"Great. Mr. Booker said that you would do that," Sean said nodding his head.
"I'll only do that because I hate losing more than poetry," Coach Slaughter said. He knew that the team wasn't doing well because he wasn't a good football coach. That hadn't been a problem before since there had been another coach who did the football coaching. He had done the soccer and the team had actually done quite well until the other coach retired. The football team now had four losing seasons in a row and there was a lot of grumbling over the matter.
"That's what I suspected," Sean said. He asked, "Can I use your sauna now that I've saved the entire football season?"
Whether Sean had saved anything remained to be seen. Coach Slaughter said, "Well, come into my weight room and get in the sauna. I figure about fifteen minutes in there should get rid of most of that garlic smell."
"Okay," Sean said following Coach Slaughter though the man's house. There were all kinds of pictures of the coach holding up awards and trophies on the wall. Sean stopped in front of one of the pictures and said, "That trophy is almost bigger than you."
"Oh, yeah. I was nine when I won that," Coach Slaughter said looking at the picture.
"It must be hell growing up as an athlete. Every year you compete, the trophies get smaller. I guess when you win the geriatric Olympics they give you a thimble," Sean said.
"What planet are you from?" Coach Slaughter asked.
"Rumors have it that I'm a native of Earth, but I'm not saying one way or the other," Sean said with a grin.
Coach Slaughter led him to the room that was intended to be the master bedroom. There was exercise equipment neatly lined up around the room along with a couple pieces in the center of the room. It looked like a professional gym. He said, "I had to use this room since it was the largest room in the house. It also has a shower in it."
"You really like exercising," Sean said stopping to examine a particularly gruesome looking piece of equipment. He had visions of being strapped in it and forced to exercise. A shudder went through his body.
"You've only got one body so you had better take care of it," Coach Slaughter said.
"That's why I avoid exercise at all times. People who exercise a lot seem to spend most of their time recovering from injuries," Sean said.
"It toughens you up."
"It hurts," Sean said.
The coach went over to where a wooden box with a door stood in the corner of the room. It was a small sauna. Coach Slaughter fiddled with a knob on the outside of the sauna setting the temperature to a moderate level. There was no sense in baking Sean. He said, "Strip out of your clothes and put a towel around your waist before you get inside."
Sean stood there looking stupid for a moment. He realized he hadn't thought through this little idea. He asked, "I'm supposed to strip?"
"Well, you don't want to sit in a sauna wearing your clothes," Coach Slaughter replied.
"I don't know about that," Sean said eyeing the sauna and the coach with suspicion. He looked over at the coach wondering if he was going to watch him strip.
Coach Slaughter said, "I set the timer for twenty minutes. Strip and get in. When you get out, take a shower and wash the sweat off of you. I'll come back in thirty minutes."
"Okay," Sean said watching the coach get a clean towel off of a stack by the shower door.
Hoping that he wouldn't have to listen to fifteen minutes of poetry, Coach Slaughter said, "I'm going to call Ms. Woodhill and talk to her."
"Good idea," Sean said waiting for the coach to leave.
"That crazy woman is going to spout poetry at me," Coach Slaughter muttered while leaving the room. "I hate poetry and she knows it."
Once the coach was gone, Sean got undressed and wrapped a towel around his waist. He stepped into the sauna shocked at how hot it was in the closet sized area. He sat down on a bench feeling the sweat roll off of his body. After a minute, he had reached his boredom threshold. Looking around, he said, "This is so boring."
A little bucket filled with water and a ladle in it caught his attention. He looked over at a little pile of rocks that were in a little container. He reached out to touch the rocks and pulled his hand back when he felt how hot they were. He said, "I bet that water is for cooling down the rocks."
Sean used the ladle to pour a little of the water on the hot rocks. An impressive amount of stream appeared instantaneously. He took a deep breath in and then exhaled. He swore that his breath was a sickly yellow color. He went over to the little window in the door of the sauna and starting waving his hands around. In a bad imitation of Belly Lugosi, he said, "It is I, the fog monster from the wooden box."
Sean wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there baking in the heat when he heard a giggle coming from the room outside the sauna. He stood up and looked through the little window in the door. Much to his amazement, Ms. Hawkins ran past wearing a cheerleader outfit. She stopped and flipped up the rear of her small little skirt showing that she wasn't wearing anything under it. Sean said, "Uh oh. I think someone forgot that I was here."
Oblivious to his audience, Coach Slaughter stood at the door with a grin on his face. Crooking his finger at Ms. Hawkins, he said, "Come here you naughty little school girl."
"Catch me if you can," Ms. Hawkins shouted back while giving her boyfriend a saucy wink.
"This doesn't look good for me," Sean said watching the pair running around the exercise equipment. He watched the couple run around the room for a minute. He returned to the bench and crossed his arms. He muttered, "He's going to kill me."
There were shouts and screams from the room outside the sauna. He listened for a minute and then said, "That doesn't sound human."
The timer went off, but the heat stayed on. Despite the fact that he was sweating profusely, Sean said, "I'm not getting out of here until it is quiet out there."
Sean had no idea how much time passed. Just when he would think that things were quieting down in the room, he would glance through the little window and catch bits and pieces of activities that were too intimate to interrupt. It did appear that Coach Slaughter wasn't the only gymnast in the room. Ms. Hawkins was twisted into positions that didn't look physically possible. He would return to his seat and wait for a little more time to pass before checking on the activities.
It got quiet for a bit and Sean went to the little window of the sauna to see if it was safe to leave. It wasn't. Stunned by the sight, he stepped back and said, "I didn't know that was humanly possible. There are two of them, but it looked like there were five arms and three legs."
He stepped back up to the window and looked through it again. He said, "My mistake. That was a leg. I wonder how she got it all the way up there."
All of that sweating was making him feel a little light headed. He decided that he better lie down on the bench to keep from falling over. He put a little more water on the rock to maybe cool it off a little more. Before he knew it, he was asleep.
The next thing Sean knew was Coach Slaughter was shaking him and saying, "I hope I didn't kill a student."
"That's not encouraging," Sean said slurring his words.
"I thought you were dead," Coach Slaughter said finding that his heart rate was coming back to normal.
"I thought so too," Sean said blinking his eyes.
"We've got to get you cooled off," Coach Slaughter said pulling Sean off the bench.
"I just want to sleep," Sean said feeling weak.
"You don't want to sleep," Coach Slaughter said.
Sean said, "You're right. I was having weird nightmares of aliens with five arms and three legs having sex. One of them looked a lot like you."
"It was just a dream," Coach Slaughter said.
"The horror! The horror of it all!" Sean screamed.
"You're dehydrated and over-heated," Coach Slaughter said.
Sticking her head in the room, Ms. Hawkins asked, "Is he dead?"
"Not yet," Coach Slaughter answered.
"Thank goodness," Ms. Hawkins replied. After the last discussion she had with Principal Charmers, she couldn't afford to be party to killing a student. She realized that she wasn't exactly dressed appropriately for interacting with a student and hustled out of the room.
"Let's get you in the shower," Coach Slaughter said leading Sean out of the little sauna. The cool air felt frigid after the heat of the sauna.
"What happened?" Sean asked finding that his legs weren't quite working. He was starting to remember what he had seen. It wasn't a nightmare, but reality. Little details quickly returned and he looked at Coach Slaughter.
"Uh, I had a visitor and forgot you were here," Coach Slaughter answered.
Sean said, "If Suzie was dressed in that skimpy little cheerleader outfit, I would have forgotten I was here. Of course, I do that regardless of what outfit she's wearing."
"Uh."
"Oops. That's another cat out of the bag," Sean said.
"You do that a lot," Coach Slaughter said wrestling Sean into the shower.
Sean said, "It is a gift. If I was a cat in a bag, I would definitely want me around."
"You're babbling," Coach Slaughter said. He turned the cold water knob. Sean screamed when the frigid water hit him. For some reason, the scream made Coach Slaughter feel a whole lot better.
After a cold shower, dressing, and drinking two classes of orange juice, Sean was beginning to feel human again. Mrs. Hawkins, dressed in clothes more appropriate for public life, entered the room and asked, "Are you feeling better?"
"I think so," Sean said.
"Good. I was worried about you," Ms. Hawkins said.
He looked at Ms. Hawkins and said, "If I had known you were here, I would have worn my underwear in the sauna."
"I'm sure you would have," Mrs. Hawkins said. She wasn't going to tell him the same thing.
"You are both quite limber, you know," Sean said. When Coach Slaughter and Mrs. Hawkins turned red, he asked, "I've got to know; with all those weird positions you two managed to get into -- is that tantrum sex?"
"Do you mean tantric sex?" Ms. Hawkins asked with a stutter on the last word when she realized that he had been watching them. She wondered how much he had seen.
"That's it," Sean said.
"No," Coach Slaughter answered forcing the word through a throat that didn't seem to work anymore. There was a little vein in his forehead that was throbbing.
Seeing that he had embarrassed them, Sean tried to make them feel a little more comfortable. He said, "Excuse my curiosity, but you two got in positions that I've never seen on the internet."
"We're both gymnasts," Ms. Hawkins said and then realized what she had just said. She turned an incredible purple color.
Sean pointed at the coach and said, "If you ever gave a public demonstration of that, I bet kids would be beating down the door to get into gym class."
"We'd rather not talk about it," Coach Slaughter said.
"I never knew the duck walk was a sexual position," Sean said looking at Coach Slaughter with awe. The whole episode had been an eye-opening experience. Shaking his head, he said, "Just watching you squat walking around like that with her on your lap almost made me want to rejoin the gym class."
"Don't!" Coach Slaughter screamed. He would give anything to make sure that Sean never joined the gym class again.
"You can't tell anyone what you saw," Ms. Hawkins said imagining the kinds of stories that would be circulating around the school. She'd have to move out of town.
"Never say a word," Coach Slaughter said.
"You've got to admit, that was impressive particularly the way her legs were sticking out there like that," Sean said unable to get the image out of his mind.
"Please, I beg of you. Don't say a word to anyone," Ms. Hawkins said. She wondered how she was going to ever face him again in class. Her greatest fear was having people discover that she was a slave to her female hormones and reproductive drive.
"Okay," Sean said. He turned to Coach Slaughter and said, "I can't wait to tell Suzie."
"You're killing us," Coach Slaughter said with a groan. Ms. Hawkins would have responded with more than a squawk, but she was having trouble breathing. Her life was passing in front of her eyes.
"Suzie and I are going to have to try some of those positions," Sean said. Ms. Hawkins started making little croaking noises. Sean looked at her and asked, "Are you okay?"
"Not really," she answered finding that she was experience a full fledged panic attack.
"You must have overdone it earlier," Sean said worried about his social studies teacher. He looked at the coach and said, "Maybe we ought to call an ambulance."
"Just go," Coach Slaughter said.
"Are you sure?" Sean asked wanting to be helpful.
"Yes."
Seeing that Ms. Hawkins was having trouble breathing, Sean said, "I know first aid."
"She'll be alright," Coach Slaughter said.
"I'll be more than happy to give her mouth to mouth resuscitation if she stops breathing."