Authors: Anita Claire
THE PRINCESSES OF SILICON VALLEY-BOOK 4
By Anita Claire
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Editing by Lis
Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.,
Text copyright © Anita Claire 2014, All rights reserved
Table of Contents
It’s 5:30 in the morning, about twenty-five degrees outside, and pitch black. Before I can drive my car—actually my mom’s old navy blue Volvo station wagon—I need to let it warm up. I use this time to shave the snow and ice off my windshield. Stomping my feet to get the snow off the bottom of my boots, I get in. Mindlessly munching on a granola bar, I listen to the crunch of the snow on my tires as I head over to my buddy, Matt’s. With one light honk, Matt emerges from his side door.
Throwing his bag in back, he kicks off the snow from his boots as he slouches into my passenger seat. After a quick, “Morning Nate,” he turns on my radio. We drive the three miles to the Pepsi Center in silence as we listen to Santana’s “Smooth” on the radio.
Matt and I currently play on our town’s Midget Major AAA hockey team. Our buddy, Chris, is playing AAA in Canada. Chris lives with a Canadian family as he aspires to become a professional hockey player. My parents refused to consider letting me enter the Canadian system. They’re focused on me finishing high school with good grades so I can get into a top college. My dad tells me I should use hockey as a college differentiator not a career. I’m a good student, I study hard, but there’s nothing I love more than being on the ice. Once the ref’s whistle blows my world narrows down. It’s just me and the eleven other guys. Pain, exhaustion, school, girls—nothing but the game is in my head. During a game I live for the sixty minutes of play. I love tuning out the world as I relentlessly seek the puck, or the guy who has the puck. The best rush ever is racing after some guy and taking him out. My hockey coach considers me his number one enforcer. I’m a big guy, relentless, having no fear, and I’m anything but a hot head.
By the time I’m home, the lights are on and my parents are up. I cruise to my room, shower, toss on my favorite jeans and a T—the one my mom hates because it’s black and the design makes me look
. Then I hustle toward the kitchen. I’m starving. I’m always starving, even when I’m sleeping I dream about food. Mom already has four slices of bread in the toaster. I grab a big bowl and fill it up with half a box of corn flakes. I’m just hoping this, and the toast, gets me through to third period. Taking my seat at the table, Mom interrupts, “Nate, don’t think for a second you can leave your smelly hockey bag in the back hall. Move it now.”
After, picking up my bag and hauling it down to the basement, I retake my seat. Pulling out
On the Road
—the latest book I need to read for AP English—I mindlessly shovel food down my throat. Why they have me wasting my time reading about this loser is beyond me. I’m sure reading a stream of consciousness essays about some guy traveling around America doing drugs and listening to jazz music was novel back in the 1950’s. Today it seems like a boring episode of the
. My AP Chemistry class is much more relevant and interesting.
Mom sets down a plate with a stack of toast and a jar of peanut butter. Dad walks into the kitchen, drinks down a glass of orange juice that was waiting for him, and grabs a bagel to go, as he heads for the door.
Before he leaves he says, “Son, is your game tonight at home or away?”
Mom replies, “The game tonight is in Tonawanda at nine.”
“It’s seven thirty.” I yell up the stairs, “Jamie, get your butt down here. I’m heading off to school in five minutes. If you’re not in the car, I’m leaving without you.”
I can hear Jamie banging around as she tries to get ready in time. As I place my bowl in the sink, Jamie comes clamoring down the stairs all in a huff with the back of her hair still wet as she looks through the pile of papers on the chair for her homework. Grabbing my coat, I pick up my backpack as I head for the door.
“Nate, just give me another minute,” Jamie whines as my mother joins her for the search.
As the car warms up Jamie comes flying out the front door, bagel in hand. “Will you stop at Starbucks so I can get a Latté?” she asks.
“Go to Starbucks on your own time. I’m meeting my friends before class; I don’t have time to feed your caffeine addiction,” I reply.
After picking up Dan at his house we trudge up the stairs and across the plaza heading to the cafeteria and the table my friends and I have staked out as our own. I played football in the fall and most of my friends are from the team. Sitting down with them I lean back in my chair and laugh as some of the guys goof on each other. Sara and Stephanie, two hot girls from our class, walk by eliciting a number of remarks from the guys. All year long Dan has had a thing for Sara. Sara is tall and thin, with long legs and perfectly sculpted blond hair, but no boobs; a deal crusher for me. Whereas Stephanie is more my type, she’s cute, curvy, with dark hair, and big boobs. They both smile and fling their hair as they give us a quick, “hi.”
Elbowing Dan I tell him, “Ask her out. I hear she broke up with the guy she was dating.”
Dan looks back studying her butt as he contemplates what I just said. “I’ll ask her out if you ask out Stephanie,” he negotiates.
“Shit, between hockey and four AP classes I don’t have enough time to sleep. Stephanie looks high maintenance. I’m more in the market for a hookup then a girlfriend. I really don’t have time for all the crazy.”
Dan nods his head, “Yeah, but with a girlfriend you can get some regularly,” he says as he pumps his hand like he’s jacking off.
I nod my head as I tell him, “Just ask her out.”
As the bell rings, I head to my locker, stuffing my jacket inside. Some plain looking freshman whose locker is two from mine gives me a coy smile and a sweet, “Hi, Nate.”
Having no clue what her name is I give her a tip of my head and return a, “Hey.”
AP History is my first class. Ryan, my best friend from AP classes, sits in front of me. Poking him with my pencil, he maintains eye contact with our teacher as he reaches his hand up by his ear and gives me the finger.
After class he says, “Dick wad, what’s your problem?”
With a smile I say, “What, I thought you were falling asleep.”
“Man, I can’t afford to fall asleep. Colleges look at your junior grades. If mine fall off my parents will have my balls. You studying after school today?”
“Running first, I need to write my Language Arts paper before my game tonight.”
“What time are you playing?”
“Shit, not till nine. I’m already sleep deprived, and it’s Monday morning.”
On Saturday night with my backpack in hand, I enter the kitchen to tell my parents, “I’m taking off to Matt’s for the night.”
“Please be home by noon. You have too much to do to hang out playing computer games at Matt’s house all day,” Mom reminds me.
Dad pulls out twenty dollars, “You boys heading out for pizza and wings?”
“Keep your money,” I tell dad. “I still have plenty from last summer.”
Last summer I had a cool gig working at a lab over at UB Medical School. My dad runs the ENT program at Buffalo General where he trains all the new docs. He’s considered an adjunct professor and has a lot of friends over at the medical school. Between my top grades in AP Biology and my dad’s connections, I got a job typically open only to college kids. The bonus of the job was Sara Nicolson—a pre-med student at U of R. Sara asked me what school I went to. When I said Amherst, the name of my high school she thought I was referring to the college in Massachusetts. Sara’s a cute nineteen-year-old with a good rack. She spent the first week flirting with me and we spent the rest of the summer having sex at her apartment. She never did learn that I was only sixteen.
After grabbing some food, Matt, Dan, and I head out to a party. Sara and Stephanie show up. Grabbing Dan I march him over to them. As I get Dan talking to Sara, I’m unable to control myself from flirting with Stephanie. Her lush red lips and big chest mesmerize me. A couple of beers have made me forget all the reasons I don’t need to get involved with this girl. It takes about one beer for me to convince Stephanie to check out the back room where I soon have my tongue down her throat and my hands on her ass.
The next week Dan tells me, “I want to ask out Sara. Dude, do you think we can make it a double date?”
. “Shit, Dan, Stephanie was fine to make out with at a party, but I really have no interest in more than that.”
Dan knows my weaknesses and arranges to get us Sabers’ tickets. Unfortunately, knowing I should decline
are two different things.
Now Stephanie thinks there’s more going on between us then there is. It’s obvious that both girls are psyched, while I’m wondering how I got in this mess. We head downtown early so we can get an Italian dinner at Chef’s. Taking city streets to the First Niagara Center, my car hits a couple of big potholes and both of my hubcaps come flying of my wheels. Now I’m driving with my hubcaps spinning ahead of us. We’re all in shock as we wonder what to do. Praying that no one gets hit with a fifty-mile-an-hour hub cap, we follow them for about two blocks. Finally they each start losing momentum and veer off to either side. Parking quickly, Dan and I take off in search. Finding them, we give each other a high five as we throw them in the back.
At the First Niagara Center we park and head to our seats. The puck drops and I’m enthralled.
Stephanie cuddles up to me and holds out her hand, “I just got a manicure, ‘Flirtatious Pink.’ What do you think?”
“My nails,” she says as she wiggles her fingers, “Didn’t she do a great job? They match my lipstick.” I turn my head as she wiggles her fingers in front of her lips.
Pointing to the ice I say, “You gonna watch the game?”
She frowns and then rubs her head on my arm, “I even got a pedicure.”
“Do you need me to explain what’s happening?” I say as I point to the ice.
“Last week my nail color was ‘Mysterious Red.’ Doesn’t the name even sound sexy?”
Just then our guys make a great play that ends in a goal. I jump up and pump my fists screaming out, “YES!”
Sitting back down I say to Dan, “Can you believe that guy?”
“Yeah, did you see how he got around both defensemen and decked out the goalie?”
“Yeah, it was amazing,” I say, while reaching over Stephanie so Dan and I can high five each other.
Stephanie is sitting back in her seat with a scowl on her face. While I sit forward with my arms on my legs.
By the end of the evening, I decide that this is my first and last date with Stephanie. Knowing that I don’t want to see her anymore I still drop Sara off first, then Dan. Parking in Stephanie’s driveway I leave the car running as we make out. Since no one’s around, I get to touch a lot of nice warm skin and round boobs. Thinking about the condom I have in my wallet, I never get that far since her parents start flashing on and off their front lights. On the way home I realize what an idiot I am. Since we spent so much time making out she probably now thinks I like her.