...on June 5
th, 1990, in New Brook, Louisiana, to Renault and Penelope Moreaux, with a mostly Cajun-French-British heritage (and an eighth of Portuguese blood from her mother's side). Her father (had always, to her knowledge) worked for Adrien Benoit, at his mechanics shop, and her mother was a God-fearing, proper, stay-at-home wife. George* was their only child, but her parents didn't spoil her – at least not in the way one would normally think of being spoiled.
Now, by the time she was three, her tomboy streak would be blazingly evident to everyone in town, and
that was what would earn her the nickname that she, subsequently, adored and has claimed as her own.
An atypical girl from the start, she never once caused a fuss – not even an episode of the 'terrible twos' - nor did she argue with her parents over what they told her to do. She went to Church when they did, helped around the house without being asked, and always had her homework done within a couple of hours of being home from school. Often enough, she'd go for walks through town, and stop by to chat with – or help out - some of the adults she knew a little better than others (like gruffy Mr. Benoit, and – later - Doc). The rest of the time, she was either exploring the local woods, or had her nose buried in a book of some sort. It was often said that she was a true beauty, inside and out.
So, by the age of 10, she was allowed to go – literally - wherever she pleased, because her parents trusted her “wise-beyond-her-years” judgment, implicitly. She was smart, obedient, studious and generous of heart. (“Even if she sometimes helps those damn, dirty
{censored}, once in a while... but God will keep our little girl safe!”) After all, she was smart enough to prefer the company and advice of adults over “only God-knows-what those kids are into, these days! It's the Devil in our schools! They need to bring back segregation; Hail, Mother Mary!”
The perfectly ironic twist, to that, was that it would be one of those very same adults (Doc, in fact), who would would inadvertantly and indirectly encourage George to make three drastically-life-changing decisions, one for the better and the other two for the then-worse, but definitely better, overall.
The first decision – at which her parents were ecstatic - was to pursue a medical career instead of something in engineering. To George – even though she had a penchant for tinkering with scrap metal and engine parts - it seemed that
everyone was into “runnin' off to the big city” for “engineering this”, or “computers that,” really. But, for some reason, it just stuck in her craw that so few people seemed to see the perfect sensibility in sacrificing a few extra years to the education that would set them far apart from the mainstream. Doc had not only sacrificed those extra years to education, but she'd fought tooth and nail to even have the right
to make that sacrifice. She was smart, she was beautiful, she was damn good at what she did,
and she advocated for a woman being strong and standing up for herself, no matter what.
Yeah, her parents sometimes said mean things about Doc, and the other locals “of color.” She'd heard it. She'd processed it. When she was very young and impressionable, she'd echoed it (and felt guilty about that, later – particularly after the first time she met Doc, and the woman greeted her with a, “Well, hello there, Rosebud!”... To this day, she
still thinks of Doc as one of her most important role models).
But then, even
before she had met Doc, she'd gotten a “wild hair up her bum” - as it were – and decided to “see for herself what all the fuss was about.” So, she'd purposefully and resolutely marched over to a darker-skinned little boy one day, and sat next to him in the school cafeteria – just to see if it really would give her some kind of grievous affliction.
It didn't.
So she did it again, the next day. And the next. And so on...
Until, about a week later, she'd stuck out her tiny hand and said, “Hi, I'm George!” The little boy had stared at her for several seconds, like she had two heads.
Finally, he'd tentatively extended his own hand, clearly nervous, but eventually clasping hers. Then, in almost a whisper, he'd replied, “George!? But...”
Nothing untoward occurred, whatsoever, when their hands touched - of course - although George was very-briefly tempted to feign an over-dramatic scene, just to mess around. Instead, she'd decided she didn't want to come off as mean, and had nodded in over-exuberant enthusiasm before cutting him off with a cheery, “Yep! George!”
Then, in the span of that next, split second, her brain permanently erased all influences regarding the perception of another human being inequal to herself, and a different engine fired up in her head, shifting right into first gear without the slightest hitch. And, since she was never really good at shaking hands back then, she'd yanked him forward (almost off his seat, entirely) into a big hug.
Thereafter, that boy (Kevon Chanterey) became her very best friend, though she was careful about her parents catching wind of it, and he was happy to play right along with the ruse. Besides, it was dreadfully easy to go play in the woods, completely out of sight and mind of people of the nosier variety. And only one kid ever threatened to tattle on her, an action for which that kid earned a tiny fist, right in the kisser. That made him shut up, real fast. So, of course, her parents never knew about her “different best buddy,” and that was just fine by her.
So, when she was 10-going-on-11 – and well into her trusted freedom from parental supervision – a local woman named Aimee up and practically begged George to watch her kid, “just for the afternoon. Please!” Aimee had held out a five dollar bill so close to George's nose, that she went a little crosseyed. So George thanked her, took it, bought a couple of root beer sodas, and went to meet Pepper for the first time. Besides for the kid being an absolutely adorable, attention-starved three-year-old, George instantly fell in love with the little girl's corkscrew hair. From that day forward, she intentionally shaved off a good bit of her free time for this sort-of-babysitting gig, whether there was money involved or not (and, more often than not, there wasn't). Soon enough, Pepper was invited along on the excursions that took place in the woods surrounding New Brook, where they could playact grand adventures, or just lay back in the brush & leaves and chatter about whatever else sparked their vivid imaginations.
All of this slipped by, right underneath her parents' noses.
But then... then came Decisions number two and three.
At age 14, decision number two – albeit
veryloosely inspired by Doc's encouragement to be a strong, confident young woman who should never let a “stone go unturned,” so to speak – was to sneak around the back of the school with beautiful, blonde, 17-year-old bad-girl, Catherine “Kit Kat” Bruneau, try her first joint (or three), and suddenly decide that it was an awesome idea to french kiss her.
The vice principal caught - and interrupted! - them in the middle of their thoroughly-stoned making out.
Her parents were too shocked to really react at first. Later, they would vehemently lecture their daughter – for the first time in her entire life – about the sins of same-sex attraction, and how it was un-Godly of her, and she should confess, repent, and beg for forgiveness.
Not that George
really cared anymore if her parents disagreed with what
she felt was perfectly fine, at this point in her life, but she was still a decently religious girl back then. So she made a pretence of repentance to the then-Father of St. Andrews, sparing absolutely no detail for his purportedly-saintly expense, and naively ignored what sounded like a low, long groan from the other side of the confession box. Her parents accepted this and “forgave” their “briefly errant” child of her “moment of weakness with the Devil.”
Thereafter, George resorted to enjoying her fond memories of that moment she had shared with Kit Kat, who left town, later that year, to chase her dream of becoming a lead singer for a rock band, and was too busy in her new life to have a care for anyone she'd left behind in New Brook.
Then came decision number three.
You remember her childhood best friend, Kevon? Well, he grew up (of course). But they never stopped being best friends in the process of that. Eventually, though - as the youthful dalliance with fledgling maturity is wont to sometimes inspire - their secretive excursions into the woods caused a different sort of bond to flare up between the two of them. Hormones & teenage rebellion make a hell of a potent mix, after all.
The day before decision number three, George had been talking with Doc about this and that. At a random moment in the conversation, she up and mentioned that she thought she really liked Kevon, and "was that wrong, Doc?" Doc just gave her a sideways look, and then told her – in no uncertain terms – that, if she liked the boy and he liked her back, that there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. “Don't let something pass you by, that you look back on later, and regret for the rest of your life, George.”
The next day, she and Kevon had snuck out to their old hangout spot in the woods. Pepper was busy with other things, so it was just the two of them. Of course, it started out like any other day they'd spent together, but then George heard Doc's words echoing in her skull, and she looked over at Kevon, studying him great intensity. Then – without any warning – she leaned in, and interrupted whatever he was talking about with a fiercely bold kiss full on the lips.
He faltered backwards a bit before catching himself, stiffened briefly from the shock, then caught his senses enough to fervently respond with a kiss of his own. He took his hands from their bracing position on the ground, grabbed both of George's shoulders, and pulled her down on top of him as he “fell” upon his back, on the leafstrewn ground.
George was ecstatic at his response, and so she didn't even think twice (let alone much at all) for the rest of that afternoon. They barely broke that first kiss for a large gulp of air, before going in for round two, and the previously-untapped sexual attraction between them raged into full tilt. At some point, his hands moved from her shoulders to her ample breasts, and the feel of her nipples pressing against his “virgin” palms was enough to generate a very noticable response from his lower body.
Feeling the shift of blood-stiffening flesh beneath her straddled torso, George briefly broke their fervent kissing to grin down at her dear friend. Then she slid her hand down, over his jeans, and purposefully rubbed his groin. This elicited an unrestrained, eye-rolling groan, and that was really the very last piece of incentive that either of them needed.
So, amid their hormonally-driven panting for air, she lifted herself up to unbutton the fly of his baby-blue jeans and freed his very-erect penis from its borderline-painful, underclothed confines. As Kevon expelled a sharp gasp - though, moreso due to the sensation of his flesh being suddenly freed to the air - George took a few moments to admire it: the first penis she had ever seen outside of Sex Ed. Then, she ran a hand along the throbbing vein in the shaft, and delighted in the writhing response that that elicited from Kevon.
“G.. G.. oh fuck, George. Y.. You s.. sure?” Which was followed shortly by, “Oh fuck, thafeelsofuckingood, don'stop, George.”
George giggled, and responded, “I love you, Kevon. And ev.. everyone says that sex...” She paused to giggle again, and briefly catch her breath, “is right when you love someone.”
Kevon looked up at George with a passion-delirious grin and replied, “I l.. love y.. you, too, George.”
She grinned again – quite devilishly, even – and made one last reply, “Then, I'm ready if you are.”
Kevon took a moment to really catch his breath and cognitive senses, returned his friend's devilish grin, then a new, very sexually-inspired side of his personality snapped into place. He grabbed George by the waist, flipped her onto her back, and whisked her underwear off of her lower body in one smooth chain of events. Of course, of all the days that she actually wore a skirt, that happened to be one.
In response, George gasped, and felt a surge of excitement at the power switch. She felt completely safe with Kevon, and knew that her trust in him was well-placed, too. As Kevon began to not-tentatively touch and explore her labial region, now it was her turn to yield an unrestrained sound of pleasure. Her biological response was undeniable, and Kevon only paused very briefly to marvel at the wetness that clung to his fingertips.
Then his hormones took over primary control of his brain and – since inexperienced teenagers are not so well-acquainted with the concept of foreplay – he used one hand to guide his extended self toward the beautifully-contrasting, pale pink entrance beneath the never-before-touched, brown pubic thatch.
Reeling his brain in a bit, Kevon cautiously pressed himself against his friend's vaginal opening. George groaned huskily in response as her hands gripped some of the leaves to either side of her form. When Kevon felt resistance from her tunnel walls, he instinctively knew to pause. Then, when those walls relinquished a bit of elasticity and adjustment to his creeping intrusion, he would push forward and into her just a bit more. Each bit of progress on this front elicited a tiny squirm and breathy encouragement from below him, and an eye-rolling, breathy gasp from himself.
Inevitably, this led to him finding his extended self fully inserted within his friend, whereupon they took a moment to fully realize what they had done, and were in the process of doing. They were long past the proverbial "point of no return," and they knew it. Then, both of their hormones kicked in, again, and Kevon leant down to capture George's mouth in their deepest kiss, thusfar. At first, his movements were held-in-check, and little friction was induced, but then the sensations started building much more intensely, for the both of them. George instinctively tilted her hips up, which added to the leverage that Kevon had, and then – instantanteously – they each lost whatever grip they had on either of their sense of control.
Their kiss was abandoned as unabashed cries of passionate ecstasy broke the secluded air of the woods. Kevon's hips fired off like the piston of an eight-cyllinder, Shelby racing engine, while George responded by raising her hands up from the ground to dig her digits fiercely into his buttocks. Kevon never even registered her grip as painful; it only stirred him into driving himself into his friend with greater speed and intensity. With the stamina that only teenagers can truly possess, they soared with each other in their seemingly-limitless exploration of the heights of sexually-stimulated pleasure.
This was infinitely better than they could have ever imagined it might be, though that thought wouldn't occur for either of them until substantially later.
Although, of course, everything has its eventual end, and the end of this first joining of their bodies, minds, and emotions climaxed upon Kevon's youthful, hormonally unthinking - yet bliss-racked - ejaculation within George's responsively-shuddering form. Though neither of them understood what an orgasm was, they were both experiencing exactly that. That's when Kevon's strength to hold himself up was suddenly sapped, and - with not the slightest inclination to extract his external organ from out of his friend – he simply collapsed and gathered her up possessively in his arms. They lay together - prone and unmoving in the tranquility of the emotional and sexual aftermath, as afternoon transitioned into evening – for a very long time afterward.
At last, much later that evening, and very much later than when George usually checked in with her parents, they reluctantly drew apart, reclothed their respective selves, and attempted to help each other look untousled and presentable. Then they gathered their belongings and made their way back toward town.
However, George's parents – who had decided to entertain some worry, past the hour of 7 pm with no check-in from their once-previously-errant daughter – were seated upon the bench, by where the public hiking trail entered the much sparser outskirts of the woods. Clearly aware of them from a decent distance, George and Kevon shared a bodily cringe, muttered a rather disrespectful oath under each others' breaths, and instantly interlocked their nearest hands in a very fierce clasp. There would be no good of this, but they knew they had to face it together. No true friends would think or behave otherwise.
And “ugly” wasn't even the half of it, after the two of them finally got within range of the elder, racially-bigoted pair. The look of absolute loathing and hatred on both of their faces was truly disturbing. And, three times during the thunderous debacle that ensued, George's father attempted to take out his prejudiced ire on Kevon by attacking the boy – most likely with the intent to kill. The first time, George managed to push Kevon behind her just in time for her father to crash forcefully into herself. Somehow, she held her ground (adrenaline, perhaps), and she pushed him back toward her mother.
Then, the next two times, her parents had drawn enough local onlookers that one of the burlier, male residents interceded on Kevon's behalf. On the father's final try, that resident let fly a bare-knuckled punch to Renault's right temple, and the man was unbalanced off of his feet. The resulting impact with the ground was enough to knock him out cold.
Penelope immediately burst into tears, and collapsed to the ground by her husband's prone form. Then, mere moments later -after only a few shaken breaths taken while she gently traced fingertips over her husband's forehead - she unerringly speared an inhumanely vicious glare up at her own daughter, and she pointed the index finger of her right hand unswervingly in George's direction. “You consort with that foul ape of a
{censored}, and you consort with the Devil, himself! Go and reap the fruit of the Devil's seed, if you will! But you are no child of mine!”
Then she spat vehemently on the ground near George's feet, and gathered her husband's lightly-bleeding head in her hands to cradle him protectively. George just stared – somewhat hurt, but mostly in dispassionate dismay - at her mother and father, together on the wide flare of the hiking path entry. By that point, Kevon had wrapped his arms cautiously around George's midsection, from behind, and – after he was sure he wouldn't be required to move fast – pulled her much shorter form against his own, in a clearly-possessive gesture that rifled no challenge from the milling crowd. Some of the locals shared a reduced echo of the elder couple's prejudiced hatred, and elicited the occasional, cowardly-deflected comments thereof. The rest of those gathered merely shook their heads before collecting around the teenagers in a protective swarm, whereupon they slowly guided the two of them away from the scene. Kevon's father, who had no ill-will of his own toward George, later offered for the girl to spend the night at their home, and gave the two a chance to relax together, by the wood fireplace with unlimited hot-cocoa-on-tap.
That evening that George and Kevon spent together was a catalyst that irrevocably superglued their friendship together, and – though each of their educations would eventually separate their ways – they would always remain in loyal contact with each other.The next morning, Kevon's father offered to allow George to stay at their home until she finalized the educational arrangements that were already underway. She gratefully accepted, and would go to great lengths to show her appreciation to the man, with various gifts and gestures over the forthcoming ten years of her life.
The best part of it all was that George - who had graduated earlier that year, despite being only 16 – had won a full-ride scholarship to the college of her choice. She had had her eye set upon Harvard University since the age of 13, but to get there, she had learned that she needed to acquire her Bachelor's Degree from Boston Medical University, first.
So - after all of her scholarship, grant, and loan information had been sorted out, and her first dormitory room had been assigned – she soundly kissed Kevon
in front of everyone, bade a fond farewell to the locals who had stood by her, spared a huge hug for Pepper, and then Doc, and departed for historical, yet liberally artistic Boston, Massachussetts.
