Adrian

Adrian 1

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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ADRIAN

by Willie B Florida © all rights reserved
comments welcome to [email protected]

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PART ONE

Adrian stands in the middle of the basketball court, his bare feet on the polished floor, his eye on the basket. After several hundred shots he’s lost count of how many times he’s thrown the basketball. His arms ache and he has nearly forgotten that he is completely naked.

"100% on the next ten shots and you can hit the showers." The coach's voice was quiet, but pitched to carry across the court -- and Adrian had no doubt that he’ll stay another three hours if he doesn't comply. His eye on the basket, Adrian lets the ball fly.

* * *

"No, you can't do this to me, you can't . . . I won't cooperate, I'll starve myself to death." Adrian's voice rose higher and higher in pitch as his mother walked away. Then he threw himself on the bed and let himself boil in dark thoughts. She probably thinks I'm going to cry, he thought to himself, desperately trying not to give her the satisfaction. His eyes burned hot, but he kept himself just this side of breaking into sobs. His body shook and erupted into a sweat. Sleep rescued him.

* * *

It started with a phone call from the guidance counselor.

"Hello, this is Melanie Godfrey, the guidance counselor at West River High, is this Adrian's mother?"

Angie held the phone to her ear, wondering what in the world Adrian had done. He was a good kid, got good grades, was generally a model citizen -- but -- every once in a while Adrian would just lose it and react all out of proportion. She just hoped he hadn't hit someone. Let it just be the "F" word, she thought. Last October he'd told Mr. Andale that he was the "worst fugging teacher in the world."

"I didn't say a bad word, he's lying," Adrian insisted, too smart for his own good.

Hearing the stunned silence on the other end of the line the counselor hastened to add, "Oh, I didn't mean to worry you Ms. Petersen, Adrian is doing fantastically -- no complaints."

Angie found her voice, "Oh, well, good afternoon Melanie. That's good news. What can I do for you?"

"It's really what we can do for Adrian. Well, not exactly me, but he was offered that fantastic opportunity to be part of the sports talent search. I was just wondering if you were sure that you didn't want him to participate."

"I'm sorry, I haven't heard anything about this. Was it something Adrian was supposed to tell me about?"

"Oh dear, I am so glad I called. I couldn't imagine you'd just turn it down without even coming in to discuss the details." Melanie Godfrey paused for a moment. "Adrian was given a packet of information. The program is called the Florida Sports Talent Search and if your son is selected he gets special coaching here at the school, an all expenses paid summer training program in Florida, and of course all the young athletes will be on the radar for scholarships and all."

"I can't imagine why he didn't bring that home. He loves sports! Special coaching, scholarships, and a free trip to Florida?"

"In all honesty, its probably the trip to Florida, if I might be so bold."

"Florida? Why wouldn't he want to go to Florida?"

"You know, the whole Stripped For Florida thing."

Angie had heard of it, of course, but from the perspective of living in Wisconsin the whole thing seemed . . . what was it . . . almost unreal? She shrugged it off. "I'm sure it was an oversight," is what she said out loud, "Adrian wouldn't want to miss out on a really good sports opportunity. I'll talk with him today. Is there a deadline for filling out the paperwork?"

"At this point you'll need to come in person, no later than tomorrow. I'm sorry Ms. Petersen, but I just couldn't let this pass by without checking in with you -- Adrian is very talented! But tomorrow is the last day."

And so it was that Angie confronted Adrian, found out that he'd thrown the application packet away and that he was never, ever going to Florida. "It's sexual harassment, mom. Why would you do that to your own kid?” He put his hands over his ears and shrieked as loudly as he could make himself.

"I was planning to have a reasonable discussion with you, young man," Angie stated, "but at this point I'm signing you up and that's final. You can stay in your room and mope about it all you want. I'll let your father know when he gets home, but I'm sure that he'll agree that it is too good an opportunity to pass up."

* * *

"It's so quiet," Steve remarked. He'd pulled his old blue mustang into the driveway, and with his jacket on a hanger and his brief case in hand walked in the back door and kissed a waiting Angie.

"The girls went to Stacey's for their volunteer day and Adrian's asleep in his room."

"Asleep? Is he sick?"

"Only heartsick."

"What! He's in love?"

Angie laughed. Their son was growing up, but he still professed that the only woman he could love was his mother. "No. Make yourself comfortable and we can chat over tea."

Steve hung up his jacket in the closet, changed out of his business clothes and reappeared in a pair of cutoff shorts and a t-shirt. He was a rather successful insurance salesman, but it was no secret that he hated the get-up. “I’d probably be a nudist if no one minded and we didn't live in Wisconsin.” He said it often enough but Angie just laughed. She thought it was a funny joke.

Two cups of tea and two scones were set on the small back table that looked out over the back yard. Autumn leaves burned bright red and yellow in the last of twilight. Today's unseasonably warm weather notwithstanding, Wisconsin winter was not far off. Angie blew steam off her tea and took a careful sip of the hot liquid.

"Adrian's been offered a slot in something called the Florida Sports Talent Search. Tomorrow's the deadline to apply. He'll get special coaching at school, and an all expense paid trip to Florida next summer for training. Melanie, the counselor at his school, says it's a fantastic opportunity to get in the running for college scholarships."

"That's great! Let's sign him up." Steve was as proud of his son's athletic abilities as any father, but he worried that Adrian took it all for granted. "You've got to work at it, son," he would say. "Pick a sport, build your skills."

"Dad," Adrian would protest, "I just like to play."

"It'll be good for him," Steve said, crumbs dribbling onto the table as he bit into a scone. "Get him more serious about training. Do we have any butter for these things?"

"i'm trying to cut back," Angie protested.

"Does that mean I'm cutting back, too?" Steve inquired.

"I've got a bit hidden away."

"Are you hiding it from yourself or from me?"

"Anyway, I told Adrian we're signing him up whether he likes it or not."

"He doesn't want to do it?"

"He had a huge tantrum when he got home and then fell asleep. But in a word, no."

"That's ridiculous. Of course he wants to. Maybe he's just tired."

"That's what I think. Melanie thinks it has to do with Florida -- and Adrian said it's sexual harassment and we're terrible parents if we make him go."

"Melanie?"

"The counselor . . . "

"Oh, right. Sexual harassment?"

"What's it called, Stripped Florida? Something about parents making their kids be nude."

"Stripped For Florida. Yeah, tourists go and make their kids play on the beach in the buff for two weeks, get them all sunburned and then go back home. Anyway, this is about sports!" Steve exclaimed. "It's too important."

Angie chuckled. Sports ranked high in the Petersen household. Adrian's sisters played lacrosse and field hockey, softball and track. Adrian dabbled between soccer, ice hockey and baseball. But it was in basketball that he excelled. Balance, quick reflexes, a good eye, and Scandinavian genes for height all worked together nicely. Steve and Angie were fairly good at ice skating, while Steve still put in a good game of golf when there wasn't snow on the ground. There wasn't any sport that he didn't like to watch on TV.

* * *

"Why are you taking me to school?” Adrian demanded. "I can ride my bike, mom!"

"I need to fill out that paperwork. Your dad and I are not letting you throw away your future. Now get your butt out the door or you'll have a tardy slip on top of everything else."

Adrian finished lacing up his sneakers and gave the wall a kick on his way out. His mother chose to ignore his actions and gently guided him with a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged her off and waited while she unlocked the van door.

"Good morning, I need to see Coach Simmons. I understand it's the deadline to sign Adrian up for the Talent Search."

"Coach should be right down the hall in his office. He doesn't have a class until second period." The receptionist pointed down the corridor to her left.

"Should I take Adrian, or can he head to class?"

"Coach knows Adrian well enough -- you can just go on your own and fill out the paperwork. Adrian, the first bell already rang," the receptionist informed him, "if you hustle you have thirty seconds to make it to first period without being late."

"Have a good day, Adrian," his mother called out.

The boy mumbled a "bye" as he hurried down the corridor in the opposite direction.

Angie was about to knock on Coach's open door when he stood up and invited her in. "No need for formalities, Mrs. Petersen. I sure hope you're here to sign up your boy. What good's a talent search when we don't put our best talent in the running?"

"You're too kind, I mean, Adrian's good, but . . . "

"Good! Look, I believe in giving every kid a chance to prove themselves, develop, grow . . . but Adrian's amazing. He may not look like a star athlete, yet, but he's got balance, energy, a great eye, good timing -- and intelligence. Sure, you've got to develop muscle, it's great to have the height for basketball, but it's the 'intangibles' as some people call them that turn good into great when it comes to sports."

If Angie had any doubts about putting Adrian in the program, the coach's assessment of her son had her won over. "Okay," she replied, sitting down and spreading out her hands, "what do I have to do?"

"There is a bunch of paperwork, I'm afraid," Coach Simmons explained, sitting down behind his desk. "I'll pull out a packet and you can go over it for yourself and fill out all the parent components. Most of it is fairly straightforward. You'll have to take him in for a physical and have those forms signed by his pediatrician. And then there are a couple of what I would call unique clauses."

"What are those?" Angie scanned the forms Coach laid out on the desk.

"Well, this is the Florida talent search and as you know, teams there are real big on recruiting future prospects for college and pro play. So, you have to sign a waiver saying that you are willing to strip your child when they're doing training in Florida. It's not absolutely certain that they'll ask you to do that, but in Adrian's case you can bet that they will. He's a great athlete, good looking kid, they'll want him naked."

"That's sort of his worst fear," Angie replied.

"It's a requirement. If you aren't wiling to do it, we can't take him into the program." The coach looked her in the eye. "It's a fantastic opportunity -- what can I say? They provide us with extra funding to provide staffing for after school coaching, upgrades to our gym, travel money for added tournaments; not to mention the all-expense paid training in Florida."

"My husband's a complete sports fanatic, Coach," Angie explained. "He wouldn't care if Adrian had to spend an entire Wisconsin winter in the nude to make this happen. I'm just worried that Adrian's going to go ballistic."

"Tell you what, Mrs. Petersen. Sign him up and let us handle it. I have an idea we'll have him accepting this before the week is out. I'd like to start by having him work out after school today -- just him and me. But I'll need your permission to have him do it in the nude."

Angie hesitated. She knew her husband would sign the forms in a heart beat. After all, maybe it was better to deal with the nakedness issue head on rather than drag it out. "Okay, I'll do it." Angie signed the forms and handed them to the coach.

"You won't regret it. By the way, I'll have him naked when you come at 5:00 to pick him up. I'd strongly advise you keep him naked at home until tomorrow morning. He'll have to dress for school. Oh, and don't forget those forms for the pediatrician."

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(End of File)