Chapter 2

“Come on,” Chantal smiled, standing up.

Standing, she saw that she and Paige were close to the same height of five feet, six inches. Paige’s hands were just a little larger than Chantal’s, and looking at Paige’s feet in their scuffed and stained tennis shoes, Chantal deduced that Paige’s feet were probably a full size larger than her own seven and a half shoe size.

“Lindsey, that Rena girl come by?” Chantal said, showing Paige how to use the electronic kiosk to sign herself out.

“What? Uh, hey, Chantal? I look like your secretary?” Lindsey teased.

“Please? Pretty please?” Chantal smiled, shaking her head at her friend’s cheekiness.

Dividing the campus into cardinal quadrants, Chantal pointed out where key buildings were. Finally, they arrived at the cafeteria. Showing Paige where the trays and silverware were, Chantal followed Paige along the rail on the outside of the steamer trays. Slowly progressing, Chantal chatted with a few of the student workers that she knew from previous semesters.

“God, there anyone you don’t know?” Paige asked when they sat at a vacant table.

“You know, when I joined the cheerleaders here?” Chantal started.

“Cheerleaders? You a cheerleader?” Paige sneered.

“Uh huh; full scholarship,” Chantal said, face quickly flaming.

“Sorry, sorry, just that, really? A cheerleader?” Paige tried to apologize, but her prejudice against cheerleaders won out.

“Any. Way,” Chantal barked, clearly perturbed at Paige’s opinion of cheerleaders. “There was a couple of them girls, you know, thought they was just these queens and we was all just lucky be around them?”

“God!” Paige groaned. “Like just ’bout every cheerleader at Washington.”

“And looking at them and how they treated everybody, I just knew I wasn’t going be nothing like them,” Chantal said. “Know, it don’t take nothing learn people’s name, say ‘hi’ to them.”

Stepping out of the cafeteria, Chantal jumped onto the pipe that bordered the strip of grass between sidewalk and building. The pipe was there to prevent students from cutting across, creating trails in the lush greenery. Paige looked up at Chantal.

“Wolves! Wolves! Give a mighty howl now! We can’t be beat, we’re here to win now!” Chantal called out loudly.

Paige watched as Chantal flipped along the length of the pipe, travelling fifteen feet away. Before Paige could move, Chantal reversed the flip, winding up in a handstand. From her handstand, Chantal performed a leg split, then launched a dismount and landed directly in front of Paige.

“Still think cheerleading is stupid?” Chantal challenged.

Paige mutely shook her head. Her eyes were still large and she looked again at the fat pipe then at Chantal. Finally, she nodded her head in defeat.

“Thank you, thank you, go Wolves!” Chantal giggled, bowing to the two guys and one female that applauded her performance.

“Go Wolves!” the two males howled.

Returning to Litton Dormitory, Chantal had Paige lead the way. Paige made only one error, continuing straight when she should have turned right. Backtracking, they arrived at the four story building and tramped up the stairs, Chantal following Paige’s sweet bubble butt up the steps.

“Nope,” Lindsey shook her head as Paige signed herself in again at the kiosk.

In Room 412, Chantal offered to help Paige set up her computer and her cell phone to the Wi-Fi. Eagerly, Paige unpacked her brand new laptop and crawled around underneath her desk, trying to find the outlet. Chantal watched Paige’s buttocks as Paige’s denim cutoffs crept tighter and tighter, splitting Paige’s camel toe wide. Finally, Paige crawled backward then sat in her chair. She yelped when her buttocks came in contact with the padded vinyl cushion.

“Man! How long my butt been hanging out?” Paige asked herself, standing and tugging at her cutoffs.

“Not that long,” Chantal answered.

Chantal flamed bright red when Paige looked up at her. Chantal then mumbled the access code and Paige rapidly typed the information into her laptop.

“Oh! Oh, I can get your phone number?” Paige asked while they waited for confirmation.

They exchanged phone numbers, then Paige continued to log onto the university’s Wi-Fi. Chantal showed Paige where she could locate her class syllabi, learn what text books she would need for her classes.

“And where is the bookstore?” Chantal prompted, resting her hand on Paige’s shoulder.

Paige placed her hand on Chantal’s hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. Looking over her shoulder, Paige smiled and gave the answer. Chantal rewarded the correct answer with a light kiss to Paige’s delicious lips. Realizing what she’d done, Chantal pulled her hand from Paige’s shoulder and flopped down on Rena’s still unmade bed.

A moment later, Paige got up from her chair. She again tugged at her denim cutoffs then flopped onto the bed next to Chantal. With their backs against the cinderblock wall, they could faintly hear the traffic outside of the room, muted conversations and bursts of laughter in the hall just on the other side of the wall. Paige’s warm thigh pressed against Chantal’s thigh.

“Man, from Vallidan? But like took forever,” Paige moaned.

“Yeah? Wish I’d known you was coming,” Chantal said, staring at Paige’s lightly tanned thigh as it rested against her own pale thigh. “I’d swung by get you.”

“But I’m here now,” Paige enthused, placing her hand directly onto Chantal’s thigh.

“You here now,” Chantal agreed, placing her hand onto Paige’s hand.

A few minutes later, Chantal looked over at the oddly silent Paige. She giggled; Paige was sound asleep, leaning against the cinderblock wall.

“Hey,” Chantal gently nudged Paige.

“Huh?” Paige jerked awake.

“Looks like you need you a nap,” Chantal said.

“Looks like it,” Paige agreed, sluggishly wiggling off of the bunk.

Chantal left the dorm room. Millicent Bellamy was at the dorm monitor’s desk and Chantal exchanged pleasantries with the all-star volleyball player. Asking that Millie call her the minute Rena arrived, Chantal opened the door of the stairwell and left the fourth floor.

Opening the door to Room 309, Chantal saw that April Harrison, her roommate had not moved since the last time she’d seen the tall, lanky red head. She was disappointed; she’d hoped to pleasure herself, thoughts of Paige’s beautiful buttocks, thoughts of Paige’s silky smooth thigh firmly in her head. April lay on her bunk, completely nude. Her small breasts were mere swells on her slim torso, pale pink nipples flat against her breasts. Her crotch was covered by a thin patina of light brown wisps and her plump vulva was tightly closed.

“AC’s got to be broke,” April whined in her nasally voice. “I swear I am dying. I get heat stroke? I’m going sue this university for every penny they got.”

“Turn on the fan,” Chantal suggested, pointing to the oscillating fan in the corner.

“Thing’s broke,” April claimed, waving her hand in a futile hope to cool herself.

Chantal reached down and clicked the fan on. It whirred immediately to life and April raised her head in disbelief.

“How, how’d you do that? I been messing with that damned thing all morning,” April asked.

“Switch right here,” Chantal said, pointing to the electric cord.

In truth, the fan did little more than push warm air around. Chantal stretched out on her bunk and thought of Paige. She wondered if Paige had large areolae, had nice fat nipples. She’d seen some sprigs of light blonde hairs sticking out the sides of the cutoffs as Paige had wiggled around underneath her desk. She closed her eyes imagining a thick, beautiful carpet of light blonde hairs covering Paige’s pretty little pussy. Chantal fell asleep, hand lightly tracing her left nipple through tee shirt and bra.

The squeak of the bedsprings roused Chantal from her light slumber. Looking over, she saw that April had wearily pushed herself upright, causing her bed to creak and groan. April plucked her thin robe from the edge of the bed and wiggled into it.

“Going to grab a soda; would you like one?” April offered.

“Mm, no, no thanks. It’s just ’bout supper time,” Chantal said, shooting Paige a text to invite the girl to join her for supper in the cafeteria.

Ten minutes later, Chantal had not received an answer so went to dinner by herself. She found a few of her acquaintances already there and joined their lively discussion.

“AC is on, but it’s set at seventy six and they won’t turn it down,” April informed Chantal when Chantal returned to their room.

Chantal commiserated with her roommate, even though she did not find the heat to be all that uncomfortable. She studied a little; Professor Templeman was notorious for giving ‘surprise’ quizzes the first day of class and Chantal had already purchased the textbook for the class. At nine o’clock, she shut everything down and gathered her shower kit.

“You going take a shower?” April asked.

“Mm hmm,” Chantal agreed, rather than the sarcastic response of ‘what was your first clue?’

“At this time of night?” April asked.

“Uh huh, and you wait ’til seven, eight o’clock in the morning?” Chantal said, grabbing her robe from the back of the door. “Going be a line out the door.”

“Shit, you’re right,” April agreed, sluggishly sitting up in her bed.

“Need a spatula?” Chantal teased.

“Pry your butt off that bed?” Chantal asked.

“Ha ha, so funny,” April smiled, grabbing her robe.

In the communal bathroom, there was only one other shower stall in use. Chantal selected one a few stalls down to give the other girl some privacy. There was a two foot gap at the bottom and the metal partitions only went up to five feet in height, not affording the user much privacy.

Her first week in the dorm, Chantal had organized soap races. The two participants would take a full bar of soap, wet the bar, then see who could squirt their soap the furthest underneath the shower partitions.

“Chantal, you have got to be the coolest girl ever,” Evelyn giggled as she was now in her third elimination challenge.

“Evelyn, you got to be cheating; how you making it go so far?” her challenger complained when Evelyn managed to get her bar to squirt four and a half shower stalls away.

As if just thinking about her caused her to pop up, Evelyn took the shower stall right next to Chantal and squealed a greeting. Over the wall, the two girls shared a quick lip to lip kiss.

“Girl! How was your summer?” Evelyn enthused.

“Summer was good; took nine hours. Algebra two oh nine, American History; girl, do not, I mean do not ever get Dr. Sampson, I swear,” Chantal said.

“You didn’t go home?” Evelyn asked.

“Hmm? Yeah, went for about a week,” Chantal agreed.

“Well? How was it?” Evelyn asked when Chantal did not elaborate.

“Um. Tense,” Chantal said.

Chantal’s step-father, Robert Wagner, no relation to the famous actor as he liked to say, was all cheer and effusiveness, which immediately put Chantal on high alert. Wilma, Chantal’s mother was her usual loud, brash self; wearing far too much makeup and far too few clothes.

“Now, this, this come in the mail for you,” Robert said, shuffling through some papers and folding them over.

“Papers? From where?” Chantal asked warily.

“Ain’t important,” Robert said breezily. “But you just sign right here? Your momma and me? We’ll manage this for you and…”

“Manage? Robert, let go of it,” Chantal ordered, trying to pull the sheaf of papers from Robert’s death grip.

“Now, Honey, it’s just a bunch of gobbledy gook,” Wilma said. “So, you just sign and…”

“Robert, let go of it,” Chantal ordered.

“Ain’t nothing need worry your little head ’bout,” Robert said glibly. “Just sign it and…”

“I’m not signing anything without reading it first,” Chantal snapped.

“Now, I know you think you some kind of big shot now you got some college in you,” Robert snapped. “Don’t mean you going be able understand all this mumbo-jumbo here.”

“I understand enough not to put my name on anything without reading it first,” Chantal snapped, releasing her hold on the papers, which made Robert stagger slightly.

“If you think…” Wilma started.

“Hi, Barstow? Yeah, Robert’s being his usual ignorant self,” Chantal said into her cell phone. “Got some papers; probably from the bank or from Mr. Lark he’s wanting me to sign.”

“Now why you calling him?” Robert asked, fearful.

“You will? Goody,” Chantal said. “See you in a bit. Love you.”

“Barstow’s on his way; he’s pretty interested in them papers too,” Chantal smiled a closed mouth smile at her step-father.

“Fine, God damn it, here, little fucking bitch,” Robert snarled, hurling the papers at Chantal.

Reading through the papers, Chantal saw that they had been sent by Mr. Lark, her father’s best friend and attorney. The investment accounts her father had set up for her now held eighty seven thousand dollars. Mr. Feldman, the broker was retiring and Mr. Lark wanted to know what Chantal would like to do with the account.

Barstow Dyers entered the home and greeted his mother. He made Chantal squeal in disgust when he picked her up, pinning her arms at her side and licked her on her nose.

“Put me down fart breath!” she ordered.

“Oh, oh yeah, Mr. Feldman’s retiring,” Barstow said, glancing at the papers. “I got the same thing. And Mr. Lark and Mr. Feldman? They don’t like that Sammy guy none. I went on over to Regent’s on…”

“Regent’s?” Robert interjected. “I wouldn’t let my dog go over…”

“It even look like we was talking to you?” Chantal snapped at the man.

“Oh. Oh, let me guess,” Barstow said, pulling himself to his full six feet and four inches in height. “Robert Wagner, no relation to the actor here wanted you sign your account over to him, am I right?”

“Uh huh,” Chantal said, smirking at the pale Robert.

“Know what? Maybe ‘stead of staying in my house?” Robert snarled at Chantal. “Might ought to stay with your brother here, huh?”

“Uh, first off, ain’t your house,” Barstow snarled, poking the nervous man in his sunken chest. “My dad bought this house and left it to us when he died. So, little man, ain’t your house. Belongs to me and Alistair and Chantal and Wilma here. And I say my baby sister can stay. Going challenge me?”

Chantal did stay with Barstow and Barstow’s girlfriend and her two little girls for the duration of her stay. She couldn’t help but smirk; her brother, her big bad Navy veteran brother was completely and hopelessly wrapped around Lucille’s finger and the tiny fingers of Rosa and Penny, her adorable, adorably spoiled little girls. And by the time she left to return to Wallchester, Chantal too was just as wrapped around the two little girls’ singers.

But Constance, please, please, not ‘Connie’ Huffman, her investment counselor at Regent suggested diversifying some of her investments into precious metals and Chantal agreed. Over lunch on her last day in Burstyn, Chantal brought this up and Robert scoffed. Chantal asked him what he would have recommended and he spoke of a buddy’s property south of Burstyn.