Clint Murdock: Naked Nikki

"Sure, I know," Nikki returned. "But give me a break, Denise-what's the quarterback got to do with defense? What, are these jerks all having sympathetic pregnancies, or something?"

Denise burst out laughing, raising her hand to her mouth in embarrassment. All around them people were standing for the next kickoff, still noisily congratulating one another on the way the game was going.

"Hey, if you think this is bad," Denise told her, still giggling, you should've seen the Syracuse game. Gaw-w-d-fifty.;five to three, or something! "

"Yeah, well… " Nikki stared out at the gridiron as the kickoff went tumbling downfield. The visiting back gathered it in and was swarmed under almost immediately by a horde of scarlet jerseys.

"Nice!… Syracuse," she repeated, refocusing on what Denise had said. "Oh, well, Christ, no wonder!-You know why that happened, don't you? They played Nebraska the" week before. Ohh-ho, God! What was that, a million to nothing or something?"

Denise sat staring at her silently, her black eyes dancing. Nikki finally noticed and turned, a quizzical look on her face.

"What…?"

"Listen to us," Denise giggled merrily. "We sound like two old alumnae drunks! Sitting here talking about the ins and outs of football!"

"Well, just because you're a broad-"

"You're a broad! The old tomboy sitting here pontificating on the game!" She pressed her dark head against Nikki's and mumbled: "Maybe we should both be lezzies…!"

"Hey, speak for yourself!" Nikki said, pushing her away.

"Oh, no, not me," Denise replied cheerfully, gazing back out at the field. "No sense in my being here if that was the case."

Nikki turned and stared at her until Denise finally looked back and met her eyes. "You were actually serious, huh?" Nikki asked.

"Well, certainly. I'm not really here to see football; I'm working."

Nikki could not help staring, her head shaking in wonder. "But, Denise… you graduated!"

Denise started to reply but she was cut off by a thunderous roar as everyone around them leaped to their feet, arms in the air, shouting. The two girls jumped up and watched as a Maryland defensive back threaded his way down the far sideline with the football tucked under his arm. Apparently Duke's backup quarterback had tried a pass from deep in his own territory, and this was the ill-fated result.

The scarlet-shirted player picked up a couple of blockers and knifed into the end zone to the accompaniment of the ear-splitting cannon. The place-kicker entered and departed, making it 28-0 with still half the period to go.

"See?" Denise said, almost shouting amidst the deafening clamor. 'Ol' What's-his-name wouldn't have done that."

Nikki replied with a curse, still staring out at the field. Blue, hazy smoke from the two cannon shots was rising above the far end zone.

"Come on," Denise said, grabbing her by the arm. "This game is shot. Let's go downstairs and I'll show you how it works."

Nikki turned on her. "Now, wait a minute…!"

"Come on-n-n-n-n, football fan!" Denise commented, dragging her toward the aisle. "Who cares if you miss anything-there's a taped replay tonight on television!"

"I don't understand it," the tall, brown-haired girl with the big breasts said to her companion. "I mean… you're a graduate, you've got your degree… "

"Yeah, and so what?" Denise replied calmly. "You seem to forget what my degree's in English Lit. It's totally worthless in the job market today."

"Oh, I can't believe that… "

"It's true. It isn't worth a goddam thing… anyway, not around here. And this is where I grew up. I don't want to leave."

"You didn't grow up here," Nikki said.

"No, not on campus, Dum-dum. I mean Baltimore."

"Well, there's a lot of big cities just right nearby," Nikki suggested. "You could always-"

"Nope," Denise interrupted. "Don't like Philadelphia; I never did. Annapolis is full of government stuffed-shirts and obnoxious Navy lifers; all they want a girl around for is to get in her pants. No chance at all for a career there. Boston is filthy and New York City-you've got to be kidding."

"What about Washington?"

"Oh, come on, Nikki-it's Annapolis times ten… or times twenty, maybe. Hell, you remember all that stuff about Elizabeth Ray, don't you? A female has just one meaning to these horny old crocks, and what the hell? That's what I'm providing, anyway. Only this way it's on my terms, at my price, and I'm far more likely to come out in the end with something to show for it."

Nikki cocked her head grudgingly; she could see a lot of truth in what Denise said. She stared out over the parking lot, taking in the sea of multicolored cars. The two of them were standing at the back of a concrete walkway beneath the huge stadium, leaning against the steel railings and talking while an endless parade of people passed by them, going to and from refreshment windows, restrooms, or another concession areas.

Occasionally a loud, muted roar burst down on them when something happened inside the stadium… "Well, you could always teach with an English Lit degree," Nikki said finally. "Did you consider that?

"Sure," Denise answered. "For about six-point seven seconds. All us good junior-class dum-dums did. But I could never decide between that and spending the rest of my life in the Peace Corps… they're both such swell ways to starve to death, you know!"

Nikki stared at her.

"He-e-ey, come on, Doll, why are we feeling so sorry for me?" Denise asked, putting her arm around the taller girl's shoulders. "This isn't exactly hellacious, you know? I've always liked sex, I've always liked men-it's just that they never used to like me. Now I turn around and ask them for money to go to bed with me, and all of a sudden-sha-zamm! I'm just popular as hell!"

She giggled and pressed her head against Nikki's. "It's really kind of funny, to tell you the truth!"

Nikki turned to her. "And you always come down here to pick up-what do you call them?-tricks? Johns?"

"Dates," Denise cut in primly. "Tricks and johns are for prostitutes, and I'm not a prostitute. I'm 'just a nice, well-groomed girl-and a college graduate, mind you-who likes to make love, and I'll do it a little more willingly than most… for a small consideration."

"How small?" Nikki asked.

"Oh, it varies," Denise said. "But I'll tell you one thing-that's why I always come down here on game weekends, because you can find men in a much more generous mood, willing to pay a hell of a lot more for exactly the same thing that they bitch and moan and haggle with you about back in Baltimore."

"You mean a bunch of horny alumni drunks looking for some young snatch to stick it in before they go back home to wifey."

Denise smiled. "Well, all right, if you want to put it scientifically."

Nikki smiled back. She liked Derose. They liked each other, they always had, since their old days back in the upper-class dorm together. Back in the old junior-class dum-dum days, she thought, when Nikki herself had been pursued by at least half a dozen boys while plain, quiet Denise spent a lot of time in the library and hardly ever went out. Back in the days before Nikki thought she'd gotten pregnant and dropped out of school, while Denise went on to graduate with the class of 1980.

And now here she was-the plain-Jane girl from the English Lit department who never really seemed to hit it off with boys, going out with men and charging them for sex and apparently well adjusted to the whole thing and even liking every minute of it. Nikki looked into the smiling black eyes and she knew she didn't really care. It didn't really seem so horrible the way Denise described it actually, and she didn't seem to have changed very much in the past three years. So what the hell?