Becoming A Part Of Each Other by ElderDirt
“Every time I look at you
I just don’t know what to do
When I see you
Since you came into my life
Such a change in me I can’t explain
“Ever since I met you
While strolling through the park one sunny day
It was love when I first saw you
And this love I really feel down deep inside
It’s not often that I feel this way
But since you came into my life
You have now become a part of me
And I, a part of you”
“A Part of Me, A Part of You,” by Danny Lopes, Sr. and as sung by Moe Keale
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It was 1968 and turmoil gripped the nation. The Vietnam War was raging, and anti-war protests and race riots occupied the nightly television news. In Hawaii, young men went to the University of Hawaii at Manoa not necessarily to get a higher education, but to avoid being drafted into involuntarily military service and sent overseas.
These were times when a guy like me had to hunker down and enjoy the simple pleasures of life…like a spaghetti plate lunch (along with one scoop of macaroni salad and another of rice) from Grace’s Lunch Wagon. It was the cheapest meal that a struggling college student could get for a dollar and twenty-five cents (and for an additional dime, you got a canned juice drink)…all carbs and calories, but you couldn’t beat it.
The day was a hot one and I had retreated to a shaded corner of the lawn of University’s Laboratory School (K-12) that was across the major road from the main university campus. I was pigging out on my cheap lunch and enjoying my solitude when out of the corner of my eye, this young high school coed purposefully marched into the center of a level grassy area before me.
“Pretty!” was the first thing that popped into my head as I looked at the Asian pixie before me. “Japanese…I think…hmmm, five-one (if at all)…cute and perky with a short dark bob hairdo that framed her lovely face and enhanced her completely natural attractiveness. Hmmm, interesting,” I said to myself as I continued to shovel my food into my mouth, followed by gulps of juice.
I knew that she didn’t see me because I was off to her side and in the shadows of the low-hanging lauhala trees. Focusing straight ahead, she began a stretching routine while dressed in what looked like gym shorts and a loose cropped t-shirt. When she stretched her arms above her head and arched backward, I took immediate notice that while her boobs were modest, they were still enticing. Then she spread her legs and then bent over to twist and touch her toes. I had to admit that she had one hell of a sweet little tush…small, firm, and nicely rounded…and shapely legs to match her petite size.
My lovely interest then began a series of sharp arm and leg moves that seemed to be choreographed judging from her extreme concentration. After watching her go through her stylized routine, the word “cheerleader” jumped into my stunned brain. Yes, those snappy movements were what I had seen so many times when I ogled my former high school’s cheerleaders.
I don’t know how many times my little cutie rehearsed her routine but when she did it to her satisfaction, she clapped gleefully and then surprised me by doing a series of cartwheels. What she didn’t know was that she flashed me a good look of her bra-covered boobs when her cropped top exposed them each time her legs were at the apex of her move. “Hey,” I thought to myself, “If she’s going to flash me her titties, I am going to look!”
My little cheerleader had finished and was bent over to grasp her knees in utter exhaustion, breathing heavily that comes with a good workout. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t help but show my appreciation by clapping.
This, of course, caused my little pixie to jerk upright and quickly scan about her to determine the source of her adoration. It didn’t take long before her almond-shaped eyes locked in on me in the shady seclusion of my lunchtime spot.
“Have you been watching me all this time?” was the sharp inquiry shot to me. “Are you some kind of creepy weirdo who likes to spy on high school girls?”
“Well…I’ll have you know that I was here first and that it was you who intruded on my peaceful lunch. But in response to your questions, I plead completely ‘guilty’ for I loved watching you do your cheerleading routine and flashing me your bra when you did your cartwheels.”
“What? You saw my what? And you looked? God, you are so disgusting!”
“Nope. I am just an ordinary guy who appreciates a pretty young woman going through her paces. You are a cheerleader for the Lab School, aren’t you?”
“Why, yes, I am! How did you know?” was the immediate response to my assumption.
“Oh, I’ve seen enough cheerleading,” I casually reply as I took another bite of my plate lunch while appreciating the lively but obviously upset petite Asian high schooler before me. “It took me a while to figure it out, but I’ve seen enough about pep routines to recognize the moves…although the cartwheels were a bit unexpected.
“Oh, in case you want to foolishly report me, I am Jerry Kealoha…a university junior… in the pre-med program…I am the student directory. The draft board will be more than willing to pick me up once I’ve been kicked out of college because you filed a complaint against me. Will that make you feel better for me watching you do your thing while I ate my lunch?”
“Hmmph! I never said that I was going to file a complaint against you. Don’t put words into my mouth.”
“Okay. I would apologize except there is nothing to be sorry for. You are very energetic and utterly captivating. I see nothing wrong with watching a pretty cheerleader do her thing. I couldn’t help myself…you do know that you are rather cute?”
My words must have pleased her because the Asian elf before me flashed me a dazzling smile before giggling, “Thanks! I was practicing a new routine for this Saturday night’s basketball game against our private school rival. I wanted to make sure that I had it down pat and did the cartwheels to celebrate not making a single mistake. Hey, you didn’t really see my bra, did you?”
Swallowing the spaghetti in my mouth, I asked, “Do you want the truth or for me to lie to you?” When she chose the former, I said in a matter-of-fact voice, “You’re wearing a loose cropped top that is subject to the pull of gravity when you’re standing on your hands with your feet in the air.”
My little pretty gasped as she envisioned what I had just said; however, before she could say anything, I quipped, “Rest assured that what I saw were fleeting glimpses. Be thankful. It could have been worse.”
“Like how?”
“Well…you could have been braless. Now, that would have been something.”
“Ooh, you’re terrible! So boldfaced shameless!”
“Yep, that’s me to the core…oh, by the way, what’s your name? You don’t have to tell me if you think I am a sicko stalker of pretty high school cheerleaders. Then I’d be forced to research at the library the Lab School’s cheerleading squad and…”
“Nina…Nina Okamoto…University Lab School senior, hmmph, and varsity cheerleader. Can I ask that if I’m practicing my routines and you’re watching me, please let me know? Okay? Ah, now, to change the subject, how’s Grace’s spaghetti plate that you’re wolfing down?