gymnastics. Nothing new. He had loads of experience handling it himself, but Willard was already moving toward the guys threateningly. This was not going to go well for Willard.
The third guy stepped in before things went too far. âNow, now, Willard. You donât want to get suspended again. Your momma might have to take a switch to you.â
The trio walked away while Willard remained in place, stewing.
Ren whispered to Woody. âWhatâd he get suspended for?â
âFightinâ.â
Willard turned back to them with a hint of a smile that indicated he wasnât embarrassed by the suspension. âIâve been known to open a can.â Willard didnât look like heâd be much in a fight, but Ren knew plenty of guys much smaller than Willard who were good in a scrape.
The near-fight went completely unnoticed by the coach, who was busy telling a group of students about the proper way to do cool-down exercises. He eventually gave up and dismissed everyone back to the locker room to change.
Lunch was next. Ren got into the serving line with Willard. He was glad to avoid the awkward maneuver of figuring out where to sit on the first day. They went outside to the courtyard as Willard went on about his favorite subject: football.
âLast year, the varsity team made it all the way to regionals. They bused us down for that one. The excitement never stops.â Willard held up his thumbs in mock enthusiasm, once he put down his tray.
Ren sat across from him. âYou ever been overseas?â
âI been to Alabama. That count?â
âNot really,â Ren replied. Although down here it probably did. âTwo years ago, I went to Russia with my gymnastics team. Kind of this sister-city thing with Moscow.â
âI donât know if Iâd dig that,â Willard said. âSeems like itâd be boring.â
Ren smiled. Time for some fun. âDo you know anything about Russian girls?â
âI hear they range from scary to drop-dead beautiful.â
âWell, I can vouch for the latter.â Ren saw that he had Willardâs full attention. âTwo girls from the Russian gymnastics team snuck me out of my dorm in the middle of the night. And they were smokinâ.â
âWhat were they smokinâ?â Willard looked confused. âOh, you mean like âsmokinâ hotâ? Please continue.â
âWe go to this club and the music is pounding. They must have had like three smoke machines going, âcause you couldnât see a thing. We were all over each other, drenched in sweat. It was great. We danced all night.â
Willard leaned forward in his seat. âAnd then what? What happened after that?â
Ren shrugged and gave him a little smirk. That was pretty much the whole story, but Willard didnât need to know that. The big guy didnât seem at all content with that response. âDown here in the South we donât start stories like that and not finish.â
Well, okay, if it was a story he wanted, Ren was happy to provide. He leaned forward, too, as if he didnât want anyone else to hear. This was all for Willardâs benefit. âWell, it goes without saying that they were both very flexible.â From there, Ren composed a tale that would make a football player blushâliterally. Willard was rapt with attention through the whole racy story, until the point he realized it was all a joke.
âAw, man,â Willard said. âNo fair. You got me all excited and you didnât even get nowhere with them.â
âBut we did dance,â Ren added wistfully. âWe danced our asses off.â
Chapter 8
Andy Beamis seemed like a fair enough guy. He took one look at Ren when he pulled up to the Beamis Cotton Mill, tilted his head in a way that said, âI can work with this,â and started showing him around the place. Ren figured Andy must be really good friends with Wes,