All characters in this story are 18 years of age or older. They are in or have completed their final year of high-school and are moving on to college.
Iowa has been the corn capital of the good old U.S. of A. for as long as anyone in my state can remember.
We have corn festival's, corn parties and I'm sure any other thing that you can imagine that is associated with the sacred yellow cob.
I come from a small place called Pleasantville. Yeah, just like the show. It's near Lake Red Rock and it was a great place to grow up.
Like the Keith Urban song says, it had, "Everything I needed, John Cougar, John Deere, John 3:16."
Music, farming and Jesus. What else could a boy ask for? Oh, I don't know, maybe a girl.
You see, all through high school I played the Invisible Man. Not intentionally, but because of my lack of status on any of the sports teams, I was usually just a ride along, or as my best friend once put it, I was the World's Best Wingman.
The handle was given to me early in my first year. Mark Robinson was a star at everything that he did, but basketball was his calling. He starred immediately in the early years of high school. All the pretty girls wanted to be by his side, and he refused to disappoint any of them.
Mark's biggest problem was that he came from a very religious family and he was never allowed to date unchaperoned, and that's where I came into the picture. The only time that Mark was able to get away was if he took his twin sister Macy and or me, along with him and his date. Turns out that it was also a community thing, strength in numbers when teenagers are out, I guess.
With only 200 students at our school it wasn't hard to know most of the students, so Macy was almost always friends with, or an acquaintance of Mark's dates.
Once, and only once, Mark referred to it as a double date. For his efforts he received an earful from his sister, and a threat to tell his parents about him having pre-marital sex in the backseat of their mother's SUV. Even if that sex was just a hand job.
Many a Saturday night, Macy and I would sit in the front seat together at the drive-in, sharing a tub of greasy, buttered popcorn and a pop, while her brother and one of her friends learned the facts of life in the backseat.
Macy was everything that you would want in a girl. She was beautiful with her dark hair and Eastern European, almost Russian looks. She was also very athletic and smart. I know what you're thinking, and yes, I tried to make a move. Both times it resulted in a slap and a punch.
The punch was from Macy, "I swear to fuck Brandon, you touch my tit one more time and I'll knock you out", and the slap came from Mark in the backseat of the car both times. "Fuck man, what are you doing? That's my sister."
It was hard to explain to my best friend that his sister wasn't ugly, and the sounds and smells of him playing with a pussy just over my shoulder had the same effect on me that would on most other guys my age.
So, after a couple of months of riding shotgun on dates, with a number of different girls, the nickname, "Wingman" stuck with me until graduation.
By the start of senior year, I was the guy that you hired if you needed someone to tag along so that your dates friend or ugly cousin was covered. And if your dates friend / cousin tried to cock block you, I could steer her clear. A true wingman.
"Hey Brandon, I'm taking Alysa to the Vallee on Saturday night, you feel like tagging along?"
Not only was I not that close of friends with the guy asking, I had always had a small crush on Alysa, so the idea of her getting fingered or worse, while I played nice with her friend had absolutely zero appeal to me.
"Sorry man, I saw the movies last weekend."
"Yeah, I know. Mark told me. Look, I'll pay for everything. I'll even buy dinner and I'll get my brother to pick up a six pack for us."
"Nah. It's not going to work for me. Thanks anyway."
I could tell what was coming next, Harry Bateman's parents had the biggest farm within 100 miles, and he wasn't afraid to flash their cash around.
"Come on man, she promised to blow me. Maybe you can hook up with her friend."
That wasn't likely. It had never happened so far. Most times when the girls at my school were going out and needed to bring a friend, they requested that I came along, because knew that I was the safe choice. Not too handsy, never forceful, and as a few had said, I even smelled good.
"Sorry, Harry. Not gonna happen."
"Fuck man, I'll give you fifty bucks and you can drive the Yukon. Look, I'll even put in a good word with Alysa, maybe she can talk her friend into blowing you too."
"In advance." I held my hand out and waited for him to peel off five $10 bills. It was a drop in the bucket for Harry and it would be a bit of extra cash for me.
Pocketing the Alexander Hamilton's, I made my way toward the gym. I could hear the sound of Mark's monstrous feet slapping the asphalt as he ran to catch up to me. From the speed of his approach, I could tell that it wasn't a good sign.
"What the fuck Bran, did you just pimp yourself out to Bateman over me?"
"If that's what you want to call it, then yes. And just so we are crystal clear, he pays me. Unlike my ungrateful, piece of shit friend. Also, he said that I might have a chance with the girl Alysa's bringing."
"Yeah, let me know how that works out for you."
"What's that mean?"
"You're too soft buddy. The girls at this school want a guy that's assertive. You know, someone that will take what they want. Anyway, now what the fuck am I gonna do on Saturday? I already told Cheryl and Macy that it was a go."
"Sorry buddy, but I'm trying to be more "assertive"." Putting my fingers in the air for quotations to mock him just pissed him off more.
"Fuck you Brandon. Next time I'll bring someone else."
"Oh yeah, I bet that there's a line-up of assholes dying to listen to you getting a hand job from Cheryl. The sound of latex gloves rubbing on your dry dick is a turn on for us all. Tell you what, I'll honk the horn when I drive Harry's Yukon past your house."
"Wow. You're such a cunt when who wanna be."
"Yeah, but I'm a cunt with $50 bucks in my pocket, the keys to Bateman's whip, and he, unlike you, is going to try and hook me up."
"Fuck you."
"Is that all you got Robinson? Don't play this game with me, you're just not any good at it."
I wish that I'd kept my mouth shut, because this basketball practice was harder than most. Coach had me trying to guard Mark, and he proved a point to me about just how good he was by punishing me on the court.
As planned, Harry's text came in around 3:00 in the afternoon. He picked me up and as agreed, I got behind the wheel and drove over to Alysa's house to pick up the girls.
They were standing near the end of the driveway as we pulled up. Alysa was waving and bouncing like a maniac while her friend had her back to us making a phone call. Alysa was dressed in her usual short skirt and low-cut blouse. She always liked to show off the goods. That, accompanied with her blonde hair, is why she is so popular around school.
I knew the other girl before she even turned around. Her shoulder length brown ponytail, with her small frame covered with tight Levi's, a school hoodie, and the ever-present plaid backpack that she called a purse, gave her identity away.
Harry jumped out of his truck and held open the back door like a gentleman. He and Alysa jumped in and buckled up while we waited for the friend.
The look on her face was enough to make me laugh when she saw who was behind the wheel of Harry's Yukon. She shook her head and climbed in.
"Brandon?"
