Searching for Moore (2 page)

As he approached the bar, he spied Holly standing alone, surveying the crowd as if they were one big sociology experiment. Coming up behind her, he casually and gently slung an arm over his daughter’s shoulder and kissed her temple as he pulled her close. Having her home from school for this abbreviated trip made enduring being the guest of honor slightly more palatable.

“How’s my gorgeous girl?” Schooner asked his flaxen-haired beauty.

“Better now that I’ve got the most handsome man in the room all to myself,” he smiled at their banter.

“Can we leave now?”.

She laughed, “And endure the wrath of Mom? I think not.”

Holly was so unlike her mother. She had CJ’s cheerleader good looks, but they sat differently on Holly. A sophomore at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island, Holly was not going to be a trophy, she was going to collect them. He missed her terribly and wished she’d stayed closer to home, wished she’d chosen a school in Southern California. But Holly wanted to go east and she wanted to go Ivy. A biological sciences major, his daughter was the antithesis of Orange County and he was secretly thrilled that she’d “escaped.” He was also thrilled that she had flown in for the weekend for his party. He missed his son Zac too, but Zac’s prep school semester abroad landed him in Zaragoza, Spain — too far to journey home for a “forty-third” birthday party.

Holly’s phone buzzed and she looked at the screen, laughed and started typing rapidly with both thumbs.

Schooner looked at her quizzically and she shrugged and offered, “Facebook” as her explanation. As if that explains it, he thought. He tried to look over her shoulder at what she was typing.

“Dad!”

“Ok, ok”, Schooner held up his hands in surrender, smiled and continued on his journey for that single malt Scotch.

Leaning up against the bar, he let the burn slide down his throat. Damn, that’s better than sex, he thought. As he let the amber liquid warm his insides and calm his rapidly fraying nerves, Schooner thought to himself, “I really need to join Facebook.”

Schooner walked along The Quad, map in hand, trying to find Brewster Hall. The next part of orientation had the freshmen reuniting with their parents and he knew that is where his would be waiting for him.

The tree-lined Quad, a large rectangular park at the center of campus, was lined along its length with old Spanish Mission style buildings that were built in the 1920's and capped with red barrel tile roofs. At the far end of The Quad, like a patriarch at the head of the table, was the University Chapel, with its bell tower standing out in relief against a mountain range partially obscured by Inland Empire smog.

He saw her standing on the sidewalk talking to her parents, white linen dress gently billowing in the breeze. He had noticed her in the last session. How could he not? She looked like an angel — long silky blonde hair flowing down her back, wide cornflower blue eyes and a pouty pink glossed mouth. She was tall, slim, athletic and Schooner was betting had been the prom queen at her high school. She was perfect. “We look like we belong together,” Schooner thought. She was the female version of him.

She smiled at him as he walked by. Oh yeah, she had noticed him and from the look in her eyes, she liked what she saw. Schooner flashed his All-American boy smile, a smile that began gracing catalogue covers when he was only 4 years old. Her eyes widened and he knew she’d be finding a way to sit near him in the rest of the orientation sessions. He smiled to himself… oh yeah, college was going to be great.

He saw his parents talking with another couple outside a door to what he assumed was Brewster Hall. His mom waved him over.

“Schooner. Over here.”

Schooner had inherited the best from both of his parents. Had they had a checklist of physical attributes, he was the embodiment of all the checks in all the right places. From his mother, her fine bone structure and square jaw, high cheekbones, straight nose and full lips. From his dad, clear blue eyes and thick, fair hair with just a slight wave, making the ends flip out. Both parents were tall and he was blessed with his mother’s easy grace and his dad’s wide shoulders and narrow hips.

Schooner approached his parents and the other couple. His dad took over the introductions, “Schooner, meet Mr. and Mrs. Silver. Their daughter Mia is also a freshman.” Schooner shook Mr. Silver’s hand. Mr. Silver had that east coast intellectual look about him, wavy gray, slightly long hair and gray-blue eyes. He turned to Mrs. Silver and offered his hand. Her forthright manner was immediately evident, as her warm brown eyes instantly captured him. He couldn’t control his smile, a real smile.

“You are adorable,” she said, belying her strong New York accent. Schooner felt himself blush and he never blushed. He was used to women — of all ages — fawning over him. But Mrs. Silver — there was something in her gaze that cut through all that external California bullshit and he felt that she was really seeing him. And she still thought he was adorable. In that moment, Schooner felt more special than he’d ever felt. Inexplicably, he wanted her approval and was so happy to have it.

“There’s Mia.” Mr. Silver’s voice cut into Schooner’s thoughts, jolting him and he dropped Mrs. Silver’s hand.

Schooner turned and coming down the path to Brewster Hall was Mia Silver. He cocked his head to the side, taking her all in, a small smile on his face. Mia didn’t look like any of the girls he knew.

Mia Silver bounded up the walk, quirky lopsided smile taking over her cute face. A mane of long dark curls bouncing behind her. She was wearing funky Lisa Loeb glasses and as she got closer, he could see that the irises of her big eyes were an ombre green that grew lighter as they moved in toward her pupil. The pupil itself was surrounded by rich caramel colored flames. Not only was there sharp intelligence in her beautiful eyes, but Schooner thought they looked like a devilish invitation, like they were beckoning to him, “Let’s be bad together. Let’s have some fun.” Schooner felt his chest tighten.

Mia could not have been more than 5’2”, clad in faded Levi’s, a tee-shirt and clogs. He wondered if she realized she was probably the only girl in the entire freshman class not wearing a dress. He wondered if she even cared. What was she doing on this campus? She did not fit in.

“Hey,” she smiled at him, confidently. Her freckled nose scrunching up.

“Hey,” he returned, captured by her energy. At 5 foot nothing, he was sure she made an entrance everywhere she went. This girl had presence. And she was different. She was clearly not a California girl. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of her.

“Honey, meet Mr. and Mrs. Moore and Schooner.” Mrs. Silver offered.

Mia beamed at the Moores, offering a firm handshake and immediately engaging Mr. and Mrs. Moore in conversation, while Schooner became acquainted with the Silvers. As they entered Brewster Hall, he could see Mrs. Silver giving Mia a little nudge and instinctively he knew it was about him. Mothers loved him. Mia rolled her eyes at her mom. He loved that.

Over the next two days, the Moores and the Silvers spent the majority of their time together, while Schooner and Mia attended the different freshman sessions. As expected, the prom queen found a way to be seated near Schooner, separated by one of her friends who struck up a conversation with him, then quickly included the prom queen.

While Schooner started gravitating toward the prom queen, her equally pageant-girl-like friends and other jock guys from his dorm, Mia’s growing entourage seemed to be a group from her dorm of Out-of-Staters, über-intellectual potheads and a few gays and lesbians. They were clearly migrating toward their comfort zones, which were as far apart as opposing football teams goal lines.

On the last night of orientation, the Moores and the Silvers dined together off-campus. When they parted at the end of the evening, Mr. Moore pulled Schooner aside to where he and Mr. Silver were standing. “Keep an eye out for her, son.” Motioning toward Mia, “She’s only sixteen. Make sure you’re there for her.”

Only sixteen? This little ball of fire who clearly already had her own entourage on campus was only sixteen. Wow — she had the confidence of a twenty-five year old. Only sixteen?

“I will, Sir,” promised Schooner, trying not to act stunned at the revelation. He’d be turning nineteen in just a few months and little Mia was, well, in fact, little Mia. She certainly didn’t seem to need any looking after. In fact, he felt pretty certain Mia Silver could take very good care of herself.

Getting settled in the first few weeks of college turned out to be more of a juggling act than Schooner had anticipated. Classes. Studying. Tennis practice (he was determined to make first string his freshman year). Learning to live with a roommate (Beau Gordon was a trip, he could not sleep without the radio on all night and hated the way headphones felt). And CJ.

Schooner had already started dating the prom queen, who had been, yes, in fact, the prom queen at her high school. CJ MacAllister was well schooled in getting precisely what she wanted and from that very first day of freshman orientation, Schooner Moore was everything she wanted. Incredibly handsome, smart, athletic, from a well-to-do California family. Schooner Moore was the bomb. And she was going to get him. And never let go. Their children would be magnificent. And CJ MacAllister was going to be the mother of Schooner Moore’s children.

CJ started to show up at the tennis courts to watch Schooner practice. She always brought a friend or two (Bitches, Schooner thought, laughing to himself, travel in packs). He wasn’t past putting on a show for the girls, taking his shirt off at the end of practice and letting them watch the sweat run down his impressive golden pecs toward his six-pack abs. Her friends would suddenly disappear when it was time for Schooner to get off the courts, leaving CJ waiting alone for him.

After a few days of walking CJ back to her dorm, she invited Schooner up to her room. Acting coy and coquettish (acting, being the operative word… and he was aware of that, but let her act), they had a hot make out session. Schooner backed CJ up to her bed with its Victorian Rose pattern spread and gently pushed her down onto it. Propped up on her elbows, looking up at him innocently through long lashes, Schooner quickly recognized that CJ knew just how to get to him. This was clearly not her first rodeo, although she wanted him to believe that it was. He also knew, two could play this game and it would be so much fun to make sure he controlled it. Controlled a girl who always got what she wanted — no problem, he thought. Schooner was the master.

Schooner slid on top of her, kissing her deeply, her tongue meeting his perfectly in its dance. He slid his hands up the back of her thighs and wrapped them around his waist. The bulge in his tennis shorts was straining against his zipper and all he wanted to do was take it out and give it to her, hard. He pressed his package bulge against her moist underwear and she moaned.

“Feels good?” He asked.

“Mmm-hmm,” was all she could muster, as he relentlessly ground himself and rammed against her underwear.

He ran his thumb and forefinger over the front of her pink cotton blouse until he could feel her nipple harden to his touch. He kept running his thumb over it until her nipple felt like a stone and then he dipped his head and sucked it though her shirt, biting it and pulling it with his front teeth. Her sounds were telling him that she was coming undone fast. He grabbed her ass and pulled her into him, pressing the bulge in his tennis shorts tighter against her. CJ strained against him, desperately trying to rub herself against his massive bulge, trying to get herself off on the friction. And without removing a single piece of her clothes or his, Schooner Moore gave CJ MacAllister one mind blowing orgasm.

He dropped her back on the bed looking dazed and still quaking as he adjusted the raging hard on in his now too tight shorts.

“Thanks for coming to see me practice today,” he leaned forward, gave her a rough kiss on her already bruised lips, grabbed his tennis racquets and left CJ’s dorm room, stopping at the door long enough to turn to her, grace her with a full-blown killer smile and revel in how utterly stupefied she looked.

Carrying his racquets in front of him, to hide the sizable bulge he was sporting, Schooner left the all-girls dorm with a smug smile on his face. Tables turned, Prom Queen! She’d be giving it all to him in no time flat, without having to wait for her to play the virgin game, deciding if she should “let him be the one.” He’d met enough cock-teasing prom queens in his life. This was college now, and if CJ MacAllister wanted him, then she was going to play by his rules.

Four days later they became lovers.

The following Saturday morning, The Quad was lined with buses for the entire freshman class to take them up into the mountains for Freshman Retreat. Freshman Retreat was mandatory. Schooner, Beau and assorted tennis, basketball and football players from their dorm headed to the buses together. He knew CJ would be looking for him and secretly hoped that she wouldn’t find him (6’2” blonde god was hard to miss). He wanted to establish relationships with the other guys in his dorm, without being part of a couple and without the ribbing — which was already beginning.

The ride up to the retreat center in the San Bernardino National Forest seemed to take forever as the convoy of buses slowly meandered up the highway’s steep incline and hairpin turns. One of the dorm RA’s announced on the bus loudspeaker that a BBQ lunch was being served in the main lodge, class elections would take place immediately following lunch and the rest of the afternoon was free for hiking, swimming or leisure activity of choice.

Beau grabbed Schooner’s arm as they got off the bus and motioned to a trailhead. “I brought a dube,” he whispered.

“You are the man!” Schooner acknowledged, heading down the trail.

They were probably about a quarter of a mile down the path looking for some boulders to park on when Schooner saw Mia’s telltale long dark curls in front of them. He called out to her and she turned and met him with a big grin. She walked up to the guys and Schooner said, “How have you been doing?”