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High school girl becomes a BBC slut.

She was wearing a cotton dress. Jim wondered how Hildy had become so tall, but he knew better than to ask that question.

"I know who you are," the man said. "Hildy told us you were coming for her. I'm her father."

"Yes sir," Jim replied. "It's nice to..."

"I'm Herb Wertz," he added. "This is Mrs. Wertz."

The older man released Jim's hand, which Jim offered to the lady seated next to Hildy's father. She didn't reach out to take his hand, so Jim pulled it back.

"Glad to meet you, Mr. Wertz," Jim replied "and you too, Mrs. Wertz."

"Hilda is still getting ready," her mother said.

"You're early," Mr. Wertz pointed out.

"I wasn't sure how to find your house so I gave myself a few extra minutes," Jim answered, "but I didn't need them. So, here I am."

The older man grunted. Jim expected one of them to ask him to be seated or if he would like a glass of lemonade like they were drinking. There was a spare chair alongside Mrs. Wertz. Hildy's parents didn't offer the chair or the lemonade, so Jim kept standing in front of them.

"Hildy says that you're an engineering student," the older man told him.

"Yes sir; Chemical Engineering. I'll start my final year in the fall."

"Then what?" Hildy's father demanded.

Jim shrugged.

"I'm not sure right now," he answered, and that was the truth. "I'm just trying to concentrate on getting my fifth year project done."

Hildy's father grunted again.

"Hilda tried to explain what kind of engineer you are," her mother said, "but she couldn't quite make us understand..."

"The trouble is," Herbert interrupted, "Hildy's not very smart. We tried to get her to concentrate more in school, but she just wouldn't-barely graduated. She's just not too smart."

"I hadn't noticed, sir," Jim said, "and I'm not an engineer yet. First, I have to graduate and then take my boards and..."

"We tried to get her to go to Secretarial School, but she just couldn't do the grammar," her mother added.

"She just didn't want to listen," her father said. "It was one problem after another. Like I said, she's not very smart. She's not very good looking, either."

Herb was going to say something else, but then his voice trailed away.

Jim found himself shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was groping for something to say.

"I like your house," he began, "I like the closed in porch and..."

"I see you've met my parents already."

It was Hildy stepping through the door that led from the porch to the inside of the house. She looked nice, but not over-dressed in a black skirt and a white, satin blouse.

"We better get going," she said and Jim noticed that her face was red.

She turned and started out the door to the porch, but her father stopped them.

"Where are you two going?" he demanded.

"I thought we would go to the Shakespeare Room," Jim answered.

Herb grunted again and Jim noted that it was the third time he had done so since he'd arrived.

"Not too late," he ordered them, "no later than twelve."

"Well, I was..." Jim started to say.

"Any later and Hildy's mother won't get any sleep."

Hildy and Jim descended down the small set of stairs onto the lawn and headed for the car.

"I know something about engineering," Herb called after them as they were walking away. "I'm a machinist."


The Shakespeare Room was a new place in the downtown section of the city. It was in the basement of the headquarters building of CMC, a machinery company that was a major employer. It was neither a disco nor a restaurant. There was music, and you could have drinks and snacks, too. Most of the patrons were a bit older than Jim.

Jim was being careful to back the Pontiac out into the road without going over on Hildy's parents' lawn.

"I've never been to the Shakespeare Room," Hildy said as Jim peered into the side view mirror.

"Me, neither," Jim admitted.

He completed backing out of the driveway and they were on their way out of the little hamlet where Hildy lived and driving toward the State Highway.

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