Baby Girl - Part One By Wanderer Coming of age. This is adult material. Please do not read if you are under age 18 or laws in your country forbid you to do so. Copyright 2008 by Wanderer. "What's with you, Janelle, I don't think I've ever seen you look so blue before - or black," her attractive classmate snickered at her in-joke. "Yeah, yeah," Billie said, "you look like someone in your family died. Are you OK, baby girl?" the other buxom black girl asked. "Oh, it's nothing," Janelle said, "I'm just beginning to feel bad about not getting to go to our Senior Prom. I mean, it's our last high school function, goodbye to Lincoln High, and it's kind of nostalgic. So I'm going on to college, but so what? That's a whole new and different experience. I've spent four years here, and I'm going to leave Friday night and that's it. No fond farewell, no saying goodbye to old friends, no partying, no sex," Janelle said, rather glumly, with just a hint of a tear or two. "There are so few black guys in this school, they've already partnered up. I'm out of luck." "Well, that's what you get for beating up on the brothers," Billie, her close high school buddy for the last four years, said. "Yes," Francine, the other black girl standing there and trying to console Janelle, said. "A hand or two on a boob isn't so bad. You might like it, you know," Francine added, with a girlish giggle. "Try it, you'll like it," Billie added. "Oh, I don't mind a hand on a boob, it's just that these guys act like they own me just because they take me out and buy me a hamburger. And I don't like that they get me in the back seat of their car, open a bottle of booze, expect me to drink too, and then they want to drive home all liquored up. If I went along with these jerks I'd probably be dead by now." "Yeah, but you shouldn't have broken Tommy Burns' arm like you did," Billie said. "Word got around fast when you hit him with that tire iron. Nobody wants to date you now." "Well, I don't mind a little boob play," Janelle said. "I know the guys can't keep their eyes off these forty-six double D's. I can't help it if Mother Nature blessed me, so I give the guys a little leeway, but my vagina is strictly my business, and I warned Tommy. 'Don't go there,' I said. 'Shut up, cunt!' was his sweet reply. So you wonder why I broke his arm? Oh, and I didn't use a tire iron, like Mr. Big Macho Man told people. I used my two hands," she giggled. "Well, however you did it, nobody wants to date you on Senior Prom night. All the guys figure when you're eighteen years old and graduating high school Senior Prom night is time for a little sex, whether you're a virgin or not, and you sent out the message loud and clear when you broke Tommy's arm," Francine said. "Oh, I'm not against sex," Janelle said, glumly. "As a matter of fact, I was looking forward to losing my cherry on prom night. After all, I'm eighteen years old now. I just didn't want asshole Tommy taking advantage of me just because he bought me a hamburger. He didn't even throw in any French fries," she added as an afterthought. "And now all the brothers are paired up. I'm just out of luck." "Well, why don't you go with a white honky?" Francine asked. "There are more guys than girls in this high school. I'll bet there are a bunch of them without dates, and you're so damn cute I'll bet one of them will be happy to escort you." "Now you know the white guys in this school are too timid to ask a black girl out. We've been here four years now. You ever see a white guy out with a sister?" Janelle asked. "No, but I've seen our brothers out with white girls, so what's to stop a white guy going out with a black girl?" Francine asked. "Well, for one thing," Janelle said, "they don't know I'm available." "OK," Billie said, "then you ask them. What the hell, it's women's equality now. Step up and be a man - or a woman," Billie giggled. "I dunno," Janelle said. "They've probably heard I broke Tommy's arm, and besides that I'll bet a good number of them would be afraid of me. Big black African mama, captain of the girls' soccer team, captain of the girls' softball team, they probably think I'm some kind of muscle freak, even though I'm only five feet seven inches tall." "Well," Francine giggled, "you are some kind of muscle freak. You're only five feet seven, but you weigh one hundred ninety damn pounds, and you've got biceps bigger than any guy in this school," Francine added. "I can't help it," Janelle said. "Genetics. Gymnastics since age four. Soccer. Pee-wee football. Softball. 'Lift weights' all the coaches said. Lift more, lift heavier, blah, blah, blah. Now even the brothers are scared off. They don't want to be with a sister who has bigger biceps than they have. It's male ego." "All right then," Billie said, "find yourself a nice puny little white boy you can beat the shit out of, and who knows it, and doesn't have a macho ego, and who would be thrilled to escort a black goddess to the prom. Hell, how about that white boy who sits next to you in your calculus class? You're always telling us how smart he is, and how he helps you whenever you ask him calculus questions, and how shy he is, he won't even look at you when you ask him a question. He doesn't even ogle your boobs. I'll bet he's too shy to even ask a girl out. The girl would have to ask him, anyway. And he's tall, like five ten or maybe even six feet. You'd look good together. So what if he's skinny and you've got broader shoulders than he has," Billie giggled. "You know, you're being funny," Janelle said, "but maybe that's not a bad idea. He is sweet, he's always helpful, he can't help it if he's shy. He's tall, but he's so thin I'll bet he doesn't have any confidence in himself. Maybe he's never even had a date. He probably never even thought he could go to the Senior Prom. And he knows me, it's not like some stranger is asking him. I'll bet he'll go!" she said, excitedly. So the next morning Janelle takes her seat in her calculus class and turns to Jack Jeffers and says, "Morning, Jack, how's it goin' today?" "Oh, hi, Ms. Stevens," Jack says. "Good day. Weather's good. Not too warm." Janelle says, "You going to the Senior Prom, Jack?" "Er...no...Ms. Stevens," says Jack. "I...er...I don't have a date." "Neither do I," Janelle says. "Why don't we go together?" Jack looks shocked. There are a few quiet moments and then Jack says, ""But you're so good looking, how come you don't have a date?" Janelle decided to be honest. "Well, you know the brothers have big egos, and I hear the story has gotten around that I'm a pretty tough cookie, so I think they're afraid of me. You're not afraid of me, are you, Jack?" "Gee, no, Ms. Stevens, I've always thought you're very nice. But...er..." There's always a "But," Janelle thought to herself. Here it comes. "But...but..." Jack stammered, "but...but...I don't know how to dance." "Oh, is that all," Janelle said, relieved. "Don't worry. We stand around, we talk a lot, we get out on the dance floor and just move, and besides, if they play some slow tunes where we dance close if you just relax I can lead you around without anybody being the wiser." The thought of dancing close to someone made Jack blush. Janelle saw it for what it was. "Have you ever been out with a girl, Jack?" Janelle asked. "N...n...no," Jack said. "Well, once when I was twelve I asked a neighbor girl to a movie but she laughed at me so I haven't asked anybody out since then." Janelle was touched. "Well, it's about time then. Do you drive, Jack?" "N...n...no, Ms. Stevens, I don't, but my dad has a car. We could borrow it, I guess, if you know how to drive." "OK, Jack, I drive and I have a car. I'll pick you up at six p.m. this Saturday. We'll go out for dinner and then the dance. We'll have a hell of a good time." "Gee, Ms. Stevens," Jack blushed. "I'm really happy you asked. You're so pretty I never thought I'd ever get together with someone like you. It makes me very happy. Now I can have a nice memory of high school before I go to college and I'm going to feel great about being on my first real date with such a beautiful girl." Well, now it was Janelle's turn to blush, although it wasn't too apparent on her malted milk skin. "Go wan, you're just being nice 'cause I asked you out, but you're still going to have to pay for dinner," she giggled. "No problem. I'll even pay for parking at the hotel," he laughed. But Jack was still confused. "Why me? Why not one of your black male friends?" he asked again. "They don't care about me or who I am," Janelle answered. "All they want is this." She took a deep breath and expanded her chest and immediately a couple of the top buttons on her blouse popped open. "You have an interesting anatomy," Jack said. "You mean I'm stacked?" Janelle asked, knowing full well that she was plenty stacked. "What's 'stacked' mean?" an innocent Jack asked. "Well, if you behave yourself you may find out," Janelle giggled. And then, as an afterthought, "Or maybe if you don't behave yourself you may find out." Jack looked puzzled, but he responded, "I can assure you I will be a perfect gentleman." "Oh, damn," was Janelle's response. "Well, I'm stuck. It's either you or stay home Senior Prom night, so I guess it's you. But still water runs deep. We'll see. You could surprise me." "Oh, don't worry. I'm well read up on these things," Jack said. "I know it's proper to bring your date a corsage, and of course you will find that I will comply with the amenities." "Thats not the type of surprise I was talking about," she laughed. "Well, I can be spontaneous if properly motivated," Jack said. "Mmmm, I have been known to motivate young men," Janelle said, popping open another couple buttons on her blouse. "My goodness," Jack said, "your blouse seems to be constructed of rather flimsy material, perhaps this would be an appropriate time for your need to change your apparel." "God, I think maybe you're hopeless," Janelle sighed. "Well, I'm convinced that there's always room for hope," Jack said. "Well, it's you or Prom Night boo-hoo," Janelle said, "so I guess it's you." "I will be honored to escort you to our Senior Prom Night dance, Ms. Stevens," Jack said. "Thank you, Mr. Jeffers. Oh, and by the way, you can call me Janelle." "You won't be offended by such forwardness, Miss Stevens?" "No, I won't be, Mr. Jeffers, as long as you won't mind if I call you Jack." "Oh, please do, Ms. Stevens - Janelle. My, I've never experienced such a close relationship with a member of the opposite sex, using a first name like that. Why, we're almost starting off on an intimate basis." Janelle couldn't believe her ears. If nothing else this was going to be an interesting experience, she concluded. Other girls were going to get wooed and screwed this prom night, probably forgettable. She would have lots of time in her young life to get wooed and screwed. But her prom night was going to be such a unique experience it would be unforgettable, she was sure. End of Part One.