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“The Brewer’s Backstory” – Episode 8

July 2003

The Brewer's Justice cover

Coming January 2016!

Brad Peters, Belmar High School graduate, tipped the power mower back and swung it around to run over the last row of uncut grass. He killed the engine and, without breaking his pace, hustled the mower up the ramp into the back of the Killian’s Lawn Service truck. “We take the licking and Killian makes a killing,” was the saying among the English-speaking employees. Still, Brad had come back for his third summer with Russ Killian. Where else could he make twelve dollars an hour plus tips? After his freshman year at Belmar, he taught tennis lessons at the rec center. Physically, the work was nothing, but eight dollars an hour trying to teach bratty kids who didn’t want to be there sucked.

José finished edging along the sidewalk, and Luis swooped in with the gas-powered blower. These guys and the other Mexican gardeners had taught Brad almost as much Spanish in the summers as he learned during the school year. Now eighteen, he was stronger than ever, but every one of the Mexicans could still outwork him. If he had to do this for the rest of his life, he’d get seriously depressed. Thank God, he only had six days left with Killian’s.

Brad and Eric Villarreal, his friend and doubles partner all four years on the Belmar High tennis team, were going to room together in the fall at the University of Colorado, Boulder. Three of the last four weekends, they’d made the forty-five-minute drive up to Boulder, once for a concert, another time to hike in Chautauqua Park and last weekend to crash with some CU sophomores and junior who were Belmar grads. The party they went to was classic CU. The amount of bad beer that was consumed was stunning. Brad had been taking in the scene with Eric and another guy when a gorgeous brunette in tiny shorts and a thin top that showed her striped bra and huge boobs had come up and thrown her arms around him.

“Dance with me, lover boy,” she said, pulling him close. He could smell the alcohol on her breathe along with her perfume. “I’m Ally,” she added. She was nothing like Jennica, his girlfriend of four months. The night, the apartment and Ally were hot. She nuzzled her face into his neck. He felt the light sheen of perspiration he had seen on her forehead. She pressed herself against him and squeezed his butt with both hands.

“My friend said you just finished high school,” she whispered. Her warm breathe tickled his ear. Was it that obvious, he wondered? “You have a girlfriend?”

“Sort of. She’s going to NYU in a few weeks. We’re breaking up.” He and Jennica had been putting off the discussion, but they both knew the break-up was coming.

“Well, lemme be the first to welcome you to CU,” Ally said, pressing her hips against him. He ran his fingers through her thick, dark hair. He was vaguely aware of the thumping bass intro to the next song as Ally pulled him into an apartment several doors down. A couple making out on the living room sofa didn’t seem to bother Ally. “Myroom’s at the end of the hall,” she slurred, as she drew his hand over her shoulder and pressed it into one of her humongous breasts, pulling him along.

In the dim lamp light, Brad could see that the bedroom was a wreck. Ally tossed clothes off the bed and let herself fall back, legs spread wide. Brad’s heart pounded. “Pull out your condom, lover boy.”

“I’m all out,” Brad stammered.

Ally sat up and giggled. “What’s your name?”

He almost said Eric. “Brad.”

She pressed her mouth against his jeans. The way she was going, he wouldn’t have time to put on a condom. He caressed her head and pulled her toward him. She looked up at him, her hands taking over where her mouth had left off. Her large dark eyes stared into his. She giggled and said, “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “It’s time for you CU initiation,” she said before peeling of the thin top she wore. She unsnapped his jeans, opened the zipper and began working the jeans down his legs.

His performance was less than stellar, embarrassing to be honest. Ally, clearly the more experienced of the two, guided him through with patience. When she lay relaxed and sweating, he dared to nibble her ear, wanting so much more. “Think we’ll see each other in the fall?”

“I have no idea, lover boy,” she replied sleepily. “Better go find your friends. You know the way out.”

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