black swan

Angelo Pantaglione did not have an easy go of it. Born the second son to Big Tony and Victoria Pantaglione, he would always remain in the shadow of the first born. Being born into a family with a semi-famous champion foosball player for an older brother had it's advantages. A certain amount of notoriety preceeds you. It's good to be the brother of a big fish in a little pond. Big Tony had played his way through school in the tough side of the city. Foosball paid for college and helped him land the contacts that he needed to make a comfortable living selling funeral supplies. When Little Tony came along with a natural supereminent foosball ability, Big Tony had counted on a brood of foosball champions.
Angelo and Alegra were born on Veteran's Day, 1967. They defied medical convention by being born late and large. Angelo weighed in at 8 pounds, 12 ounces. His sister, 9 pounds 1 ounce. Another striking characteristic about Angelo was his length. He was 23 inches long. Victoria nearly died. When Big Tony held his twins for the first time, he wept. Not for joy or happiness. For sorrow and shame and the loss of a dream. Little Angelo's left arm was markedly smaller than his right. Big Tony's dreams for a Foosball Dynasty died that day. Little Tony's load got considerably heavier. It was now all on him to carry out his father's interrupted aspirations.
Little Angelo, spurned by his father, became the darling of his Mother and Nana. He was mollycoddled and spoiled until Big Tony came home. Then, Little Angelo would retreat to a quiet corner to suck his fingers and try to stay out of the line of fire. Throughout elementary school and junior high, Little Angelo grew like a weed. In 7th grade he was 6 feet tall. He wore a size 13 shoe. His good arm was lithe and muscular. His small arm stayed smaller, shorter and somewhat withered in appearance. Whenever he felt overwhelmed or anxious he would ask for a pass to the restroom, fold himself onto the floor between the wall and the toilet and suck the fingers of the small left hand. He comforted himself this way until he went to high school. His face was assymetrical, but appealing. He had an infectious grin and sparkly blue eyes. But his power lay in his one dimple. He had one dimple on the right side of his face. Without the dimple he would have been cute enough, but the dimple tipped him into adorable. He mastered a series of looks that he used on his Mother and Nana to get his way. When he got older he used the same looks on his twin sister's best friend, a girl who would come to be known in P-ville as Natasha "Natasha Will" Wilson. After the bras were frozen, the ouija board was upturned and the last toilet paper roll wrapped around the last neighbor's tree, he ended up losing his virginity to her on the family's couch in the basement after the rest of the pajama party revelers had conked out in the living room.
"Ange, you gotta swear you won't tell nobody!" she grew up across the street from his grandparent's house. He'd known her all of his life.
"I swear! I won't!" He gave her the look. The one where he looked deep into her eyes and widened his slightly while tilting his head just so. His eyes twinkled in the dark. The light fell on the dimple. She was slightly mesmerized.
"Angelo....?" She'd forgotten about his "retarded" arm about 12 minutes ago, when his right hand slipped under her shirt.
"Yeah?" He was unbuttoning her pants.
"Do...you...love...me?" He looked at her. He almost lost his erection. He felt kind of like when his older brother would sneak up behind him and punch him in the kidney. Momentarily stunned. This had never occurred to him. He remembered what was at stake and hurriedly tried to recall everything Tony had told him about sex. Tony knew alot. He had slept with 37 assorted females before his senior year in high school. After his senior year, he had nearly doubled that number. "Just tell 'em what they want to hear. They just want you to say it so they won't feel bad about doin' it. Feelings Shmeelings, they'll get over it. If they're doin' it with you, they've probably already done it with somebody else. Girls who fuck in high school are sluts anyways." Tony always talked about every girl he'd had an encounter with in detail. Angelo always felt a little embarassed when he would see these girls in school, knowing what his brother had done to them the night before. He also found it a little arousing. Tony said he was telling him valuable information about women.
Angelo nodded emphatically. "Yeah, ...uh, Yes, I...I...love you."
Natasha was an outcast at school. The only person who was as invisible as she was Alegra Pantaglione. Alegra, as a girl, was relegated to helping her mother do all of the housework. Her education wasn't important because she would grow up to marry someone who would support her. Tony's fame in Palookaville didn't extend to his odd untalented siblings. In fact, with as much ass as Tony was pulling, it was all from the B-list girls, some of their mothers, a few of his mom's employees at the dress shop and a substitute teacher or two. He never pulled a Palookaville A-lister. He had better luck with out-of town girls. That's because Big Tony acted like an asshole during in-town tournaments. And because they really didn't have any money. They all wore clothes from Sears. Tony didn't have his own car. They didn't leave school for lunch. No matter how famous he got, Tony lived in the moderately priced houses in the middle of town and his Dad drove a ten year old used Lincoln. In rare moments of self doubt, Big Tony would tell Victoria that he was a "chump in a poor man's Cadillac."
The house revolved around Tony's schedule. They ate, slept and worked in accordance with his practices, training and tournaments. Natasha and Alegra were friends out of necessity and convenience. Natasha secretly dreamed of Tony Pantaglione like other girls dream of actors or rock stars. She thought someday that he would suddenly notice her, the girl next door (to his grandparents), fall in love with her, marry her and she would finally show all of those snotty rich girls at Palookaville High. On the night of Alegra's sleepover(attended mostly by girls who just wanted to take a peak at Tony's room, be in Tony's house and had no real interest in being Alegra's friend), Natasha's mother dropped her off two hours earlier than the designated invitation "when?" time.
Natasha's mother was old. She had become pregnant during menopause and was now pushing 60 with a 14 year old. She was exhausted and as a result Natasha was odd. Her clothing was matronly and her hair remained in the same style as 6th grade; long, mouse brown, with bangs. Her parents could not be persuaded to spring for contacts, so she wore brown tortoiseshell glasses. Natasha rang the doorbell. Tony came to the door. She always had his schedule memorized because Alegra's lfe revolved around it. She knew he would be home during this window of time, alone. He didn't greet her, just stood there looking at her. He didn't even know his sister was having a slumber party tonight. He was due to be on a bus in exactly 2 and a half hours to go to a tournament. "Hi, Tony." Natasha flushed.
Tony was used to girls showing up at his house uninvited. He never wondered how they knew he would be alone. He didn't care. He knew what she was here for. He stuck his head out the door and looked up and down the street to make sure nobody saw him invite this woofer in. He smiled and took her hand and led her to his room. Once inside, he perfunctorily fucked her, lay atop her and sweated for a minute and rose. He disappeared to the bathroom to urinate. When he came back in, he looked surprised to find her there. She was still undressed and laying in his bed. "Uh...you have to go now." He said as he handed her underpants to her. He left the room while she dressed. Several minutes went by as he stood in the hallway. He went to the living room and turned on the television. That chick was takin' too long. He went back to his room to make sure she wasn't stealing his Foosball shirts. She was sitting on his bed, crying. Oh shit. One of these. "Um...Is there a problem?"
"I..(sob).. thought it..(sob).. would be d-d-different." This chick looked familiar, maybe. He wasn't sure. Had he done her before? He tried to avoid doin' 'em twice. Otherwise, they get the wrong idea and think you have a thing going.
"Look,...Do I know you?" He had to show no mercy. If you act nice to them, they just get worse. "You just show up here...What did you think? You've got to clear out, babe. My parents are gonna be back."