Through blurred vision I managed to make a beeline to my car and head home. I’d never skipped school before – not like this, anyway. Taking such risks was out of character of my “little miss goodie-two-shoes” personality, but I didn’t care.
All I could think about was getting home into the safety of my bed. I wanted to crawl under the covers, pull them over my head, and hide. Outside of that, I had no idea what I would do. I might get into trouble for missing school unexcused, but I’d make some sort of “not feeling well” excuse later.
After all, I was definitely not well.
At least my mother wouldn’t be there – oh, crap. Yes, she would. She wasn’t going to go into work for at least a few hours today. Fantastic. Now I’d have to face her, as well.
It wasn’t a long drive, but it felt like forever. I couldn’t believe my misfortune. I liked Andrew, but as Tracy said – what did I really know about him?
I thought about it. Andrew must have contacted Simone right after we had sex. Probably right when I was on the phone with Tracy! While I still had his come all over my chest, he had probably been on the phone with Simone, bragging about his conquest to her.
I banged my hand on the steering wheel. I had felt guilty about being selfish with him. Sonofabitch! There I was, obsessing over how I had treated him, when he was in the process of betraying me!
And then I blew the fucker, my mind snarled at me. Andrew had betrayed me, had thrown me to the wolves, and yet I felt like I was to blame for letting him do that to me. How could I have been so stupid? So naive?
I pulled up to the house, grabbed my things, and practically raced to the door. I fumbled for the right key and managed to get the door open in such frantic haste that it felt like there was someone chasing me.
Inside, I closed the door, and leaned against it. I closed my eyes, and felt a pounding pressure in my chest. I was barely holding it together.
My mother came into the room and saw me. “Shannon?” she asked, confused. “What are you doing home? Shouldn’t you-”
She stopped when she saw the state I was in. I opened my eyes, burning and teary, and my lip started quivering. A rush in my nose felt like it had been punched.
I broke.
My face screwed up and I put it into my hands, the sobs coming hard and fast, wracking my body. I slid to the floor in a heap, leaning back against the door for support. My legs simply didn’t work.
My mother rushed over to me and knelt on the floor, then wrapped me in her arms. Despite how I treated her, despite how we couldn’t even speak to each other this morning, she was there for me.
It just made me cry even harder.
“Shanny?” my mother said, softly but alarmed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe in between huge bawls of pain, rage, and anguish. Her arms wrapped around me tighter, and I buried my face into her breasts looking for comfort.
All the weight of the world seemed like it was falling on me. I simply couldn’t understand what had happened, why I deserved all of these things. Why couldn’t I just be left alone? Whatever it was that I did, I didn’t mean to do it!
I told you so, Team Morality just had to get a dig in.
I held onto my mother tightly, holding on to her like a life preserver. It felt like I was drowning, slipping beneath the waves of my depression. She returned the squeeze, and I felt like I was being kept afloat.
Here I was, a complete hot mess, and the woman that I had disrespected the night before was on her knees next to me, supporting me. She hadn’t deserved what I did, and the first thing that I needed to do was try to make it right, somehow.
“I-” I managed to get out. “I’m so sorry, Mom!”
The tears burst out again, renewed. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what my mother was thinking, but once again I had my own problems to deal with and couldn’t find the emotional energy to put myself in her shoes.
She began stroking my hair, which helped more than I thought it should. I didn’t want to let go, but I realized that I had already stained her shirt with my tears. One more thing that I had done to her that she didn’t deserve. Even though I wasn’t ready to separate, I started to pull back.
Somehow, though, she knew that it was too soon, and pulled me back to her bosom. “Shhh,” she said. “It’s all right. It’ll be all right.”
Just about anything my mother could have said would have been the wrong thing to say, except that. For some reason, her words soothed me a little, and I wasn’t sure how or why but I wanted to believe her.
“I was such a bitch to you last night,” I managed to say after a few moments. “I’m so sorry.”
My mother was understandably confused. “So this is because of last night?” she asked.
I suddenly realized how strange this must look like to her. I go off to school, right as rain, and then I come back an hour or so later and burst into tears, apologizing for a fight from the previous night? Really?
“No,” I said, rubbing my eyes and nose with the heel of my hand. “I just realized that I needed to say that.”
“Okay,” my mother said, uncertain. “Well, your apology is accepted. So what’s happened? What’s wrong?”
What could I tell her? How much could I tell her? More to the point, how much could I leave out?
I could only look at her, sniffing to keep my nose from running.
“Look, let me make us some tea, and we can talk, okay?” she said when it appeared I wasn’t going to be able to speak right away. “Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up, and meet me in the kitchen.”
I nodded, and did as I was told. Inside the bathroom, I finally got a chance to take a look at myself, and I was a complete wreck. I turned on the faucet, took my glasses off, and waited for the water to warm up.
In the meantime, I heard the phone ring.
“Hello?” my mother’s voice echoed in from the other room. “Oh, yes, she’s here. Apparently she made it to school but then got violently ill and had to come home.”
I wondered if my mother was making the story up, but then I realized that my mother could probably smell my breath and it wasn’t exactly a mystery. I reached for my toothbrush.
“No, I don’t know if she’ll be able to make it back to school today,” she said. A shiver went up my spine as I thought about returning to my classes in my current state. I didn’t want to face Andrew or Simone.
“Thank you,” my mother said, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice. I wasn’t sure what the school administrator must have said, but it obviously didn’t make my mother happy. “If she feels better, you’ll be the first to know.”
I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I contemplated whether or not to simply make a dash for my bedroom, but knew that wasn’t going to fly. I finished in the bathroom and then headed to the kitchen to face the music.
When I got there, my mother was pouring the boiling water into two cups with tea bags. “Okay, Shanny,” she said. Her voice was back to its normal, calm level. “Tell me what happened.”
In that moment, I knew that this was going to be a defining point in our relationship. What I told her – or didn’t tell her – was going to have repercussions for a long, long time. The weight of that realization added to the grief that I was already dealing with, and didn’t help.
I decided to slowly tell her what I could, and only add to the revelation if absolutely necessary.
“I-” I started, thinking about how this was going to sound to my mother’s ears. “There’s this boy…”
My mother arched an eyebrow, and raised the cup to her lips to hide the beginning of a knowing smile. I caught it, however, and her presumptiveness brought a rise in irritation in me.
“No, it’s not like that,” I protested. Then I paused. “Actually, it’s exactly like that.”
Now that I had opened the door a crack, I had to press forward.
“Last night, we… did things,” I said. Under normal circumstances – if such a thing could ever be “normal” – I have a feeling my mother would have cheered me on. Given the heightened state of both of our emotions, though, this was unpredictable and scary.
My mother’s smile turned into a deep frown. This was precisely what I had feared.
“Go on,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. “What kind of ‘things’?”
I looked at her, trying to find the right words. I didn’t want to get side-tracked on just how far I had gone with Andrew. “I gave him a hand job and he went down on me,” I said.
I hoped that being direct would stave off additional requests for details. It was true, anyway, so I didn’t have to worry about the story not checking out in case she actually asked for specifics.
As it was, it worked. “I see,” she said. She had a strange look on her face, almost as if she couldn’t decide whether to be upset with me, or proud of me. “Was he any good, at least?”
I blushed. It wasn’t the question I expected. “Um,” I said, embarrassed. “Yeah.”
She nodded. “Good,” she said. “Okay, please continue.”
“Well,” I said, trying to choose my words carefully. “This morning I found out that he had told people about it.”
My phone buzzed. I looked down at it, and it was Andrew. Where are you? We are supposed to be handing in our report!
I swallowed, incredulous at Andrew’s nonchalance. How dare he act like today was business as usual? I wanted to text him back with all kinds of detailed description of what I thought of him and that fucking report, but it would have to wait.
“Is that him?” my mother asked, indicating the phone. She must have read my change in expression.
I nodded. I turned over the phone like I would have turned my back on him. In disgust.
“So anyway,” I said. “There’s been this girl at school who has been…”
“A bully?” my mother asked, picking up on my hesitation. Her jaw was tensing and releasing, a sign that she was doing her best to stay calm and not react. I had to be careful, because the last thing that I needed was for her to rush to become “mama bear” and head over to the school to give the principal a piece of her mind. That was not the outcome I wanted.
I nodded. As much as I hated to do it, I needed to downplay Simone’s penchant for torment. I wanted commiseration, needed to hear some encouragement that she was a bitch and deserved to die. Telling my mother all of the gory details this time, though, would not end well.
“It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle,” I said, and my thoughts immediately went to how I’d “handled” the dildo better than she could. I shook the thought from my head. Focus, Shannon, focus! “But apparently he told her and now he’s given her ammunition to use against me.”
I paused, waiting for some words of wisdom. She looked at me thoughtfully, contemplating what I had said. I expected her to fish for more details, try to get more information about Andrew or Simone or things that happened at school. It felt like it was her turn to talk, and so I waited patiently.
“Well, I think there’s only one thing to do,” she said slowly. I prepared myself for the soothing, calm, rational voice telling me that I needed to finish my tea and crawl into bed. Things would be better in the morning. I could feel my bed calling to me from the other room already.
“What’s that?” I asked. All I needed was her permission.
She put the cup down and looked at me intently. Here it comes.
“You need to go back to school,” she said.
I was shocked. “Wh-what?” I sputtered.
She sat back and studied me carefully. “You are a young woman now, Shannon,” she said. Her tone was calm and direct, with none of the flighty, emotional tenor with which she usually spoke. “You can’t run away from your problems.”
“I can’t go back there!” I protested. “You don’t understand!”
“I do understand,” my mother said, soberly. “You have been able to avoid your issues with people by running away from your problems. I don’t think we’ve really helped you learn how to work through them. I think we’ve coddled you too much.”
It didn’t sound like her. It was too calm, too… rehearsed.
“What do you mean, ‘we’?” I asked, my voice rising. I couldn’t believe my ears.
“Your father and I had this discussion yesterday, in fact,” she said. It was then that I saw a redness beginning to form in her eyes. That explained everything. These weren’t her words, they were his. He had told her how to talk to me.
“What you don’t understand yet,” she said, and for perhaps the first time she actually sounded like she was giving motherly advice, “is that right now, what happens in school really doesn’t matter very much in the grand scheme of things. How you react to what happens in school is what matters.”
I felt like I was on the verge of tears again. “That’s not true,” I argued. “What happens in school is everything.”
She shook her head and smiled, sadly. “No, honey,” she said. “It really isn’t. But it is painful and it hurts and it sucks. Trust me, it gets worse.”
I was dumbstruck. “Worse?!” I gasped.
She nodded. “Oh yes,” she said. “Life will throw you more and more problems, bigger ones, more devastating ones. It will get overwhelming if you don’t know how to handle them. As your father likes to say, you gotta learn to love the small problems so that they don’t become big problems.”
“Dad says that?” I asked. I’d never heard him say that before.
“Well, to be fair, he said it yesterday,” she admitted. “He’s concerned that there are going to be some big problems coming your way, and you aren’t prepared to handle them.”
My mind immediately flew back to the conversation I’d had with him in the car. Remember, he had said, everything I’ve done, I’ve done because I love you so very much.
Now, my mother was telling me that there were worse things to come? Is that why they needed to talk in private? So there’s going to be something on top of everything I’ve been going through? I could barely walk through the door fifteen minutes ago, and it’s going to get worse?
“What problems are coming my way?” I asked timidly.
My mother blinked a couple of times as she thought how to respond to my question. Then she waved her hand as if to wave away the importance of what she said. “I mean,” she said a little too quickly, “in life. Life! And you need to start learning how to deal with them while they’re still small before they get too big.”
I realized that my mother had reached the limit of her ability to argue the point. All of her arguments were really coming from my father, and she was trying to convey them as if they were hers.
“I see,” I said, sparing her the embarrassment of needing to defend ideas that were not her own. I didn’t see the point in arguing with her. At best, all I’d be able to do is get her to let me crawl into bed, and it didn’t look like she was going to budge on that.
“Look,” she said after taking another sip of tea. “You’re a smart girl, but smarts ain’t going to help you if you hide from your problems. You need to be able to handle the messy relationships.”
A strange look came over her face. “We,” she said, pointing at herself and then at me, “can’t be the only friendship you have. I’m safe and predictable, and you know how to handle me, and I know how to handle you.”
Somehow, I doubted that, but I didn’t interrupt. She was on a roll. My phone buzzed. I ignored it.
“You can’t run away from your problems and hide yourself in your room whenever the world gets messy, Shannon,” she said. “People are mean and they’re idiots, and assholes, and you have every right to want to stay away from them.
“But you can’t go through life not knowing how to deal with them,” she continued. “This girl, this bully. I don’t know her, but I’m willing to bet that she is a pathetic little weasel compared to other people that you will meet in the future.”
“Like who?” I asked.
My mother’s lips flattened into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Trust me,” she said with a knowing look. “There are some truly evil people out there that get off on eating people like you alive.”
There was something in her voice, a pointed edge of experience and dread. I swallowed.
“So,” she said, looking at me with a calm expression that was drastically unlike her normal flighty self, “unless you are truly sick, you need to go back to school. Are you truly sick, Shannon?”
I lowered my eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her. Sure, I had thrown up in the bathroom and my stomach was tied in knots, but I knew what she was asking and there was only one truthful answer.
“No,” I said, taking a deep breath.
My phone buzzed on the table again.
“Okay,” she said, her expression flat. “Then you need to get back to school. Now.”
This was not what I had expected. My mother had always taken my side, had always comforted me when I needed it the most. Today was one of those days, and it felt like she was kicking me back into the lion’s den.
I didn’t say anything. My mother picked up her phone, swiped a couple of times and brought it to her ear. “Hello?” she said into the phone. “Yes, this is Shannon Rochet’s mother. I just wanted to let you know that Shannon will be returning to school today. Okay, thank you.”
She hung up the phone, and looked at me, saying nothing. Silence hung in the air as I contemplated my options, and there really didn’t seem to be any. She expected me to go back to school, and now she had told the school that I was going to do it.
Once again, it didn’t seem fair. I didn’t understand why I had to put up with so much crap from everyone. Now, it appeared, my mother (and father, by proxy) wanted to be added to the list.
My phone buzzed again, and it prompted me into motion.
Without saying anything, I stood up, and my mother stood up with me. She held out her arms to welcome me into a hug, and I moved around the table to accept.
“It’ll be okay,” she said. “It may not seem like it now, but it will be okay.”
“What about Andrew?” I asked, meekly. “What do I do?”
“My first suggestion would be to talk to him,” my mother said, calmly. “Find out what you can before you make any rash decisions.”
Talk to him? Talk to him? Like, in person? Confront him?
She read my expression perfectly. “Yes, Shannon,” she said. “That’s how adults solve problems. They talk to each other.”
I swallowed. That was the last thing that I wanted to do, but I knew she was right.
She pulled me away from her and held me at arm’s length. “Shanny,” she said in a comforting tone. “Like I said, you’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out. Trust in yourself.”
She gave me one more quick hug, and then let me go. “Now go back to school,” she said, turned me around, and gave me a playful swat on the butt.
It was inappropriate, I wasn’t in the mood, but it was exactly the kind of thing that I’d expect from my mother.
I left the house and got into my car, and finally checked my text messages before I started to drive.
Shannon, where are you?
I did the report and handed it in. Mrs. Villanova wanted to know where you were. I think you may have to talk to her.
Are you okay? Why aren’t you responding?
If you’re all right, can you please let me know? I’m a little worried now!
My first reaction to all of this was anger and annoyance. How could he possibly act like nothing had happened? Did he think I was stupid?
Slowly, another thought began to creep into my thoughts. Why would Andrew send those messages if he had told Simone? If he had talked to Simone and told her what we had done, why would he be texting me at all? Was he just keeping up appearances until the “big reveal” from Simone?
That had to be it. Even so, I felt some doubt start to creep in. I needed answers, and my mother’s suggestion of talking to him was sounding more and more like the best way to get them.
I texted him, reciting my instructions to the car’s microphone as I carefully choose my words.
Meet me at the same place we were at this morning. fourth period. Send.
There was a pause and I began to grow uncomfortable. A buzz in my hand and a quick message on the car’s entertainment system told me I had a reply.
Thank god you’re all right. Ok. See you then.
My heart began to race a bit as I thought about how I was going to confront Andrew. I wanted to attack him, scream at him, punch him – anything to make him hurt as much as he had hurt me. But that little seed of doubt that perhaps I didn’t have enough information began to take root, and I needed to figure out how I was going to interrogate him on what he had done.
Along the way to school, that seed was beginning to germinate, and it caused me to take a quick stop along the way. Just in case.
When I got to school, I had to report into the office to get my attendance recorded. Once that was over and done with, I looked at the clock. I had about fifteen minutes before fourth period started, and so I made my way to the back corner of the school where Andrew and I had our tryst in the morning.
I passed by the classrooms, ignoring the anonymous eyes that saw me as I walked through the halls. Every day, the occasional student walked through the halls during class time, so no one ever really paid too much attention. This time, though, one pair of eyes tracked me as I walked, and I didn’t notice them narrow with purpose.
I entered the girl’s bathroom just as the bell rang, releasing the students into the halls as they transitioned from third to fourth period.
A few moments later, the door opened and Andrew appeared. The look on his face registered confusion, relief, and a bit of anger. Self-righteousness boiled inside me, but I tried to dial it back to a simmer.
“There you are!” he said. “Where were you? We had to hand in our report this morning, remember?”
I looked at him coldly, rage and fury fighting to erupt. “Why did you tell Simone that we had sex?” I asked, point blank. No point in being indirect.
“What?” he reacted as if he’d been physically slapped. “Why did I do what?”
My eyes narrowed. “You heard me,” I snarled. “Simone knows that you and I had sex, and it’s not like I would have told her.”
“Shannon,” he said, carefully. “I swear to you, I never told anyone about what happened between you and me. Especially not to that cunt.”
The vitriol with which he said the word caught me by surprise. I raised an eyebrow, and he came towards me as if to give me a hug. I pushed my hand against his chest, keeping him at a distance. “If you didn’t do it,” I challenged, “then who did?”
Andrew stopped in his tracks. “I swear I don’t know!” he protested. “Look, I really like you, and I loved what we did last night. I really want to do it again. If I were to do something that stupid, then I would never be able to do that.”
“Oh, you’ve got that right,” I said, my voice dripping with attitude.
“Please, Shannon,” he said, his voice pleading with me. “I promise you, I hate that bitch. I would never tell her anything.”
I was confused. I wanted to believe him, but I just couldn’t figure out what was the truth. Andrew was a loner, and I had never seen him interact with Simone before. The three of us didn’t share a class, so I had no idea how she treated him in the cases that they shared. Could she have been as big of a bitch to him as she was to me? I’d never considered that possibility before.
Even so, it didn’t make sense to me. Simone knew. It couldn’t just be a coincidence that the day after I fucked Andrew, she happened to “suddenly” know about it.
As I looked at Andrew, though, I fought to reconcile the facts with his look of innocence. He looked genuinely hurt at the accusation, and in a panic. It was hard to reconcile what obviously happened with the look he was giving me. He looked too innocent, too cute.
“Andrew,” I said, uncertain. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
He took a step closer to me. “I swear, I’ll help you find out who told her,” he said. “But it wasn’t me. I didn’t tell anyone.”
He was close enough to smell now. There was a familiarity to his scent, and my body started responding immediately. “I don’t know, Andrew,” I said, but now my voice had lost is vigor. It came out more quiet than I had intended. “I don’t know how to believe you.”
I said the words, and I meant the words. But he was too close now. His eyes were pleading with me, and he looked devastated. “I promise you,” he said, his voice as low as a whisper but as intense as a laser beam. “I promise I would never do that to you. Or to me.”
His hands were on my waist, and then my arms were sliding up his arms. His lips were close enough to bite, and I wanted to do that. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to take him and test him to see if he was telling the truth.
I leaned up and kissed him, my mouth searching for validation from his. I wanted to feel for myself just how much he wanted me. I was certain that through the kiss, any deception would be apparent and I would know for sure. I told myself that he couldn’t hide the truth from me, and I would feel it in his kiss.
I definitely felt something, but not just in his lips. He pressed up against me, his erection sliding against my stomach. Damn, he got hard fast.
What are you doing? Team Morality screeched in my ear. Just what the fuck are you doing? He’s lied to you!
Heh, Team SUAFM countered.
I got lost in Andrew’s kiss. The boy was a quick learner, apparently. I didn’t remember him being this good only a few hours ago. He held me in his arms, and I found myself melting into him, trying to get my arms around him to get the leverage I needed.
There…
“Andrew,” I whispered.
“Shannon,” Andrew said hoarsely, interrupting me. “I swear, I didn’t do anything like that. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Andrew,” I repeated.
“When you didn’t show up to class,” he continued, ignoring me, “I got worried. And then you didn’t answer my texts.”
His voice seemed to be agitated, like he was trying to will his defense into me.
“Andrew!” I hissed. He stopped and looked me in the eyes.
“Yes?”
“I want you to fuck me,” I said.
His eyes grew wide. That was not what he was expecting. “Here?” he croaked. “Now?”
I reached into my bag and fished out the item that I had picked up on the way to school. Looking at it now, I wondered just what my intentions had been all along, whether I was ever going to disbelieve his story.
Or maybe I just wanted to get fucked no matter what.
Slut, Team Morality spat.
Damn right, Team SUAFM cheered.
Andrew’s eyes grew wide as he recognized the familiar square shape. He looked over his shoulder, and then back at me.
“Don’t you have a class?” he asked.
“Nope,” I said. “Free period. You?”
He shook his head. “No, normally I leave school during this time.”
I nodded. Seniors were allowed to leave school if they didn’t have a scheduled class. I usually sat in my car with a book, but from time to time I would check out for a bit. The next period was lunch, so it effectively gave me an extended lunch break.
Andrew’s hands reached for my jeans, and I reached for his. It was too awkward, though, and we decided to each do our own zippers. I made a mental note that jeans were terrible attire for quickies.
He looked around again, and said, “Let’s go into a stall, just in case.”
The possibility of getting caught was exciting, but I agreed and we shuffled with our pants around our ankles to one of the far stalls.
“Not that one,” I said, indicating the one that I had hid in earlier. “Let’s do this one.”
Andrew shrugged, and followed me into the stall. I wasted no time ripping open the condom and grabbing his dick to place the reservoir on his tip. It jumped at my touch, and his hardness excited me. I didn’t want to waste time, so I unrolled it down to the root as fast as I could.
“Oh!” he jumped.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s, um, tight.” He cocked his head a little, and I got the impression that he wasn’t enjoying this part very much.
I kissed him. “Tighter than me?” I teased. I could see by the look in his eye that he wasn’t sure how to answer that question.
I took his dick and aimed it at my pussy. He had to crouch down a little in order to get the right angle, but I was able to aim him at my hole.
“Oh!” he said as he felt himself aim true to my entrance. I pulled him in with my hand, and he obliged.
He began to straighten, and I could feel his cock slide further inside me. The sensation was drastically different than what it had felt like last night. Being penetrated felt good, but the barrier between his flesh and mine was more than physical. It almost felt like a tease.
“I want to feel you come inside me,” I said. “Don’t stop until you come.”
After I said that, I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to come. The sensation of his cock was neutered. Even though it moved freely inside of me, it felt as if there was a delay between the time that he moved and when I felt it.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped, “but I can’t stay in this position.”
Andrew was trying his best to gain leverage, but my jeans around my thighs were preventing any real ability to thrust or even penetrate me. He turned me around, and I felt his dick fall out of me.
Despite the deadening sensation of the condom, I missed his cock immediately. I needed it back, pushing against my inner walls. There was a comfort there, even if I felt like I was being robbed of something. At least it was better than nothing.
He sat on the toilet, and I backed onto his lap. I reached down with my hands and grabbed his dick and stuffed it back inside me. There, that’s what I wanted. Once he was there, I pulled my legs up and rested my feet on his thighs.
This is disgusting, Team Morality whined.
I love it! Team Shutupandfuck me countered.
You don’t want to think about what’s happened in this stall, Team Morality complained.
You are getting fucked right now. In a school bathroom. While school is in session and every student and teacher is clueless about what’s going on. Quitcherbitchin. Team Shutupandfuckme was as proud as a peacock.
It was at that moment that the bathroom door opened. Andrew and I froze, expecting to get caught. I heard footsteps walk across the tile floor, but this stall didn’t have the gap that the other one did. I couldn’t tell who it was.
I kept my feet on his thighs and tried to keep my balance so that I didn’t have to put my feet down in order to stop myself from falling. My paranoia sank in, and I thought about what it would look like if the stranger came up and threw open the door to our stall. Whoever it was would see me in a lewd reverse cowgirl, pussy bared, a cock bent upwards and into my hole.
I wonder if she would want to watch, Team Shutupandfuckme offered. Maybe she would stand there with her hands down her pants while Andrew fucks you. Maybe she would come when Andrew did.
For fuck’s sake! Team Morality complained. This is serious!
Andrew’s hands snaked up my sides until he grabbed a hold of my nipples through my shirt. I felt him get harder inside me.
See? Team SUAFM crowed. He’s as perverted as you are! He is even more turned on knowing that you’re about to get caught!
My nipples screamed in pleasure at the attention, and my situation seemed to change. Suddenly, Andrew’s massaging of my chest and the sudden rigid hardness of his cock kicked me up a notch.
I ground down on his lap, trying to get him further into my pussy. His entire body stiffened. “Shannon,” he whispered a warning.
Suddenly it became a fun game. Could I make him come without our unwanted visitor knowing? Could he stay quiet?
The footsteps went into a stall, and we barely allowed ourselves to breathe.
Team Morality was on the brink of panic. Why aren’t we busted yet? Surely this is our doom!
Andrew’s hands squeezed and pulled at my nipples, erratic and chaotic. He rested his head against the back of mine, and I could feel him breathe through his nose, overheated air coming from his nostrils flowing down over the back of my neck, and then his mouth as he attempted in vain to get air without making a sound.
He grew harder and longer, and his hands pulled at my nipples in anguish. My own pussy clamped down on him in response, overjoyed that it was getting the extra stimulation. I was holding my own breath, leaning back against my lover and trying to remain quiet.
I didn’t have much experience with Andrew, but I was convinced he was very close. The prankster in me wanted to get him to come, so I tried to collapse my pussy walls around him as tightly as I could. Immediately, his body reacted and I felt him grip me with his hands at the same time I felt his thighs tense.
After a moment, we heard the toilet flush. At that moment, where the sound masked everything, I felt Andrew’s cock pulse violently. His hands grabbed my chest and gripped them in a vice, and he tried to inhale so that the sound would be drowned by the rushing water. His dick seemed to jump in rapid pulses, and I wondered if he was coming. It was very hard to tell.
Damn condom.
Water poured into the sink, and I allowed myself to breathe. I exhaled, not realizing just how much air I had been holding in, and then inhaled as quietly as I could. A few seconds later, the sink water stopped, paper towels were pulled out of a dispenser, and then the door opened and closed.
We stayed still for a moment, not sure if it was safe to move. Once we felt we were in the clear, we both relaxed at the same time. I collapsed and leaned back onto his chest once more, and I felt his hands lovingly trace up and down my torso, occasionally spending extra time with my nipples.
“That was intense,” he croaked.
I raised an eyebrow. “Did you come?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” he said. “Couldn’t you tell?”
I thought for a moment. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I felt you get harder and longer and then throb for a moment, but having that rubber thing on just made it difficult to really feel you.”
I felt him nod behind me. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said. “It felt fantastic to be inside you, but it kind of felt…”
He stopped, searching for the words. “Like you had your dick stuck in a mitten?” I offered.
He chuckled. “Kind of like that, sure,” he said. “But if it means that or nothing, I’ll definitely choose that.”
I rotated my hips around his cock, which wasn’t nearly as hard as it had been. “Me too,” I said, not realizing that I had just practically promised to fuck him whenever he wanted.
Yeah, baby! Team SUAFM cheered.
“It definitely felt like I was robbed of something,” I finished. I remembered Tracy talking about how she felt when my father came inside of her. That wouldn’t happen with a condom, but I didn’t fell like getting pregnant, either.
“Did you come?” he asked.
“No,” I said, and moved to stand up. He helped me lower my feet to the floor. “But that’s okay. I’ll let you make it up to me later.”
I grinned at him as I pulled my jeans up to their proper position. He grinned back like the Cheshire Cat. “So then you believe me?” he asked.
I frowned, the rush of the problem coming back to reorient me. He saw the change in my expression, and his reaction shifted back to one of concern. “I promise. I swear,” he insisted, “I didn’t tell anyone about last night.”
Andrew looked wounded. He had taken the accusation to heart, and it had hurt him. I sighed, and reached up to touch his face. I looked down at his softening cock, the condom looking ridiculous as it seemed to dangle off the tip, heavy with sperm.
I decided not to answer his question, because I simply didn’t know what I believed. “Was it better than in my mouth?” I asked.
Andrew looked down at his dick. I reached between his legs and started to pull the condom off. He sucked in his teeth at the sensation.
“Does that hurt?” I asked, worried.
“No,” he said through a sharp intake of breath. “Just very… very sensitive.”
The rubber snapped off in my hand, and I held it, dangling. It felt heavy. “You come a lot,” I said.
“You make me do that,” he said, grinning.
“Well, was it?” I asked.
“Better than your mouth?” he asked. I nodded.
He thought for a moment. “It’s different,” he finally said. “I mean, it’s hard to tell with the condom on, but it feels more… complete.”
He frowned. “I don’t think I’m explaining very well,” he said. “I definitely enjoyed finishing in your mouth more than in the condom.”
I grinned, holding up the condom as he pulled up his jeans. “Well, I definitely enjoyed you finishing in here more than in my pussy.”
He smiled, and once again I was struck at how cute he was. I got on my tiptoes to kiss him. “Andrew,” I said softly. “I want to believe you.”
“Please do,” he said.
“I need to find out how she knew,” I said. “But right now, we better get out of here before someone else comes in.”
Andrew nodded in agreement. We exited the stall, and I pushed open the little flap door to the trash bin to toss the condom away before turning to the sink to wash my hands. He took the next sink, and said, “This may have been a fantasy of mine,” he grinned.
“Fucking in the girl’s bathroom?” I said. “Weirdo.”
He laughed at my wink.
“What class do you have next?” he asked.
“English.”
“Mr. Rawlins?”
“Yeah.”
“I heard he’s a hardass,” Andrew said.
I thought about how Mr. Rawlins tried to protect me from Simone, and what he was willing to do to prevent all of this nightmare from happening. “He’s not bad,” I said, feeling a need to defend the man. “He’s tough, but fair.”
Andrew nodded, apparently accepting my assessment.
We dried off our hands, and left the girl’s bathroom, but not before looking to see if the coast was clear.
We walked side by side, not sure if we should hold hands. There was a part of me that wanted to hold onto his arm as we walked, feel secure in his presence in a way that I never had walking through the halls.
You chickenshit, Team SUAFM screamed.
We arrived at Mr. Rawlins’ classroom, and I turned to Andrew. “Thanks for walking me to class,” I said, feeling like an idiot.
“It’s what a gentleman does,” Andrew said, trying to imitate his father’s voice. I giggled.
“Oh, wait!” I said. “I forgot! Here, just like you asked.”
I fished into my bag and pulled out his cleaned t-shirt. “Here you go,” I said. “All clean and folded.”
“Wow,” he said, totally impressed. “That was fast!”
I shrugged. “I keep my promises.”
He hefted the t-shirt, smiling. The moment began to grow awkward. “See you later?” he asked, trying to find a way to leave gracefully.
Kiss him, you fool! Team SUAFM shouted. Kiss him kiss him kisshimkisshimkisshim.
“I-” he started, and then I launched myself forward and kissed him on the lips. It wasn’t a full-on kiss, but it got the point across. I hoped.
A grin started to broaden on his face, and then he broke out into a wide smile. He turned and left, and I watched him go. As I hoped, he turned around and caught my eye, before nearly colliding with some girl talking to her friends at a locker.
I giggled again, and then entered into Mr. Rawlins’ classroom. I took my seat, lost in my thoughts about how adventurous I had truly become.
“Okay everyone,” Mr. Rawlins was saying. “Settle down, the bell is about to ring.”
Sure enough, the bell rang at that very moment just as Simone sauntered into the room with an exaggerated swagger. The class quieted for the beginning of class as she walked down the middle of the chairs but instead of heading to her seat across from mine, she stopped directly in front of me.
It was the perfect entrance. She was the only one standing, and as a result all eyes were upon her.
“Oh, Shannon, you left this in the girl’s bathroom,” she said in a sing-song manner. “Boy, you have been busy. Getting laid by two people in three days! People will talk, you know.”
With that, she held up the used condom for the entire class to see, and dropped it onto my desk with a squishy plop!
There was a beat, and then pandemonium gripped the class.
I launched myself out of the seat and at Simone, my hands and nails curled into claws. The first thing I managed to grab was her long, blonde hair, followed quickly by a quick scrape at her face. Unfortunately, she turned her head quickly enough so that all I got was a raking of her hair, but I did catch her ear.
Simone screamed, a glorious sound that was lost in the yelling and shouting in the room. I felt a tug at my pony tail, and my glasses flew from my face as I was hit in the cheek. I closed my eyes and used Simone’s hair in my left hand to find my way.
I had no idea what I was doing. I’d never been in a fight before, and as such I was running on pure adrenaline and hatred. I wanted to hurt her, but I had no idea how. At that moment I regretted not growing my nails longer, because it would have been perfect for gouging her eyes out.
For her part, Simone had evidently been something of a scrapper, and I felt my head yanked violently backwards, my throat exposed. Instinctively, I knew that something was coming and brought my free hand up to protect it, just in time. A slashing sensation raked across my forearm, breaking the skin in long streaks. I knew that Simone’s perfectly manicured nails had just drawn blood.
She was not a big girl – in fact, if anything Simone had the perfect body type. She had a beautiful, lithe athletic figure with muscular legs and well-proportioned breasts. I, on the other hand, was just a skinny little twit who only recently discovered that I had a bubble butt, but nothing more.
Nothing, that is, except that I was wiry. I twisted around and in the process brought my thin little leg in a sharp sweep, catching the back of her calf. I still had her hair in my hand, and she still had a grip on my pony tail. We collapsed in a writhing, maniacal heap on the ground.
I couldn’t find purchase on any part of her body, so I just started swinging wildly. My eyes were closed for protection and I knew I had to open them up just to see what was going on, but the preservation instinct was too strong.
All of a sudden I felt myself lifted into the air, forcibly separated from Simone. In frustration, I screamed again at my impotence. My blood thirsted for vengeance, I wanted to make her pay.
“That is enough!”
Mr. Rawlins roar cut through the chaos like a laser beam. The room instantly went silent, except for Simone’s and my heavy breathing.
His voice cut through my fury, the authoritarian tone slicing through my fog of rage. I stopped my struggling and took stock of my situation. I was held up, dangling with my legs two full feet in the air. Confused, I whipped my head around and saw that both Simone and I were being held up by two of the school’s varsity football players.
The room started to quiet down, and Mr. Rawlins took a step towards both of us. The man’s jaw was set, his eyes narrowed into slits. He looked around the room, and he snarled.
“Put. Those. Phones. Away.” His voice was low and even, and contained enough menace that everyone immediately complied. My heart sank as I realized that this was going to be all over social media within moments. Even so, you had to hand it to the man. He knew how to command a room.
He took a step towards us, still being elevated off the ground with ease by the two jocks.
“Ms. Tiller,” he seethed. The contempt in his voice for Simone was palpable. I felt a profound sense of schadenfreude at her withering reaction.
Then he turned to me. “Ms. Rochet,” he snarled. The shoe was on the other foot now, and I deflated. When he addressed Simone, it was exhilarating. When he addressed me, though, the edge in his voice cut me worse than her fingernails. It was laced with disappointment, pity, and something akin to hatred.
Hatred. Mr. Rawlins hated me now. He had tried to help me, and as I glanced up at his face I saw the unadulterated reflection of a man who felt betrayed. No, wait, that was too strong of a word. Ignored.
I had done that, too. I had ignored his advice, thought that I knew better. And now he was here, put in a position of two girls trying to kill each other. His body was tense and taut, ready to lash out, but he didn’t.
It was his restraint that was scariest of all. The room stilled in anticipation of what he might do. He was a coiled spring, one that felt like if it were unleashed, we’d all be decapitated. I was actually frightened.
“Put them down,” he said, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. Like some mafia don telling his roughnecks to do his bidding, Mr. Rawlins’ command forced the jocks to lower us to our feet to stand on our own. They remained at the ready, just in case Simone and I decided to take the opportunity to go at it again.
Simone apparently was feeling the same as I was. As much as we hated each other, we were scared of Mr. Rawlins more.
He looked around the room, catching the eyes of the students who didn’t look away immediately. “I am going to escort Ms. Tiller to the main office. Mr. Forsmith-” he indicated the jock who had lifted me off the ground, “will accompany Ms. Rochet to the infirmary.”
His words pure acid. “I expect sanity when I return. And if even one single video or picture or tweet makes its way online – just one – I will fail this entire class for the entire semester. For most of you, that means no graduation. No exceptions.”
There was an audible groan from the room. Mr. Rawlins made no movement other than his eyes, and the noise ceased immediately. “Am. I. Understood?” he growled, and fuck me if he didn’t sound like a lion warning its pride.
Again, the restraint. There was a force of will behind his words, one that demanded respect. There was a murmur around me of begrudging acceptance. This was no fake threat. He really would fail the entire class, and college plans for most of us would go up in smoke. Lawsuits? What lawsuits? No fucking way did that matter to him.
Mr. Rawlins looked at Simone, and tilted his head toward the door at the front of the room, then looked at Mike Forsmith to take me out the back. We stepped over upturned chairs and books, and I tried not to look at the snickering people who were turning their thoughts back to the used condom.
Why didn’t you flush that down the toilet, you dumb bitch? Team Morality wailed. You were supposed to be the smart one!
I didn’t know who I was most upset with – Simone for her public shaming, or me for being such a fucking moron. I was seething, angry, and without Mr. Rawlins keeping me in check, I wasn’t sure how to do it myself.
“So, you got laid in the bathroom?” Mike asked as we walked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Shut up,” I spat, not even looking at him.
Mike was more than a foot taller than me, and two and a half times my weight. He had lifted me off of Simone like a doll, and probably could have killed me with one punch.
He was also afraid of me. He took a quick step to the side at my words, as if I were about to attack him and scratch his eyes out.
“Hey,” he said, holding up his palms in an effort to show he meant no harm. “I was just going to say that’s pretty badass.”
I grunted. I wasn’t looking for his approval.
“Whatever,” I said. My arm was throbbing, bloody, and driving me crazy. I didn’t need Mike’s commentary.
“I wish my girlfriend was that adventurous and cool,” Mike said.
I whirled on him. “Yeah, Mike? Does that turn you on?”
I took a step toward him, and turned on a sultry voice. “Do you want to go right now? On the way to the nurse? We can take a little detour,” I took a step toward him, and he backed away at my aggression.
“You know I’ve got the condoms, Mike,” I said, closing the distance. “We can go right in there, you can lift me up in the air and drop me right. on. your. cock.”
I walked my fingers down his chest towards his dick as I said the words, enunciating every consonant sharply. I looked down, and saw that Mike was sporting an erection in his pants. He was turned on!
I turned on the sleaze. “Oooh, Mike,” I purred and cocked my head as I peered up at him. “It looks like Little Mike likes the idea. Whaddya say?”
Mike swallowed, and mumbled. “I… I have a girlfriend,” he finally said.
“Give her a call,” I smiled, bringing my other hand to my face so that I could run a finger across my lips. “Tell her to meet us there. We can share.”
“Uh,” he stammered. He shook his head.
“No? You sure?” I asked as sweet as I could.
He nodded, though I could tell that he was seriously considering the possibility.
My voice became hard and vicious. “Then shut the fuck up, Mike!” I hissed. “Or I’ll tell your girlfriend about this little talk.”
It was an empty threat, as Mike really hadn’t done anything worth tattling on. But I knew how girls’ minds worked. If his girlfriend knew he was talking about sex with another girl, that would be enough. So the threat worked; Mike shut up and simply accompanied me the rest of the way to the nurse.
I, on the other hand, felt that surge of power once more. I had stood down a 250lb (or more) football player, got into his face, and won. After the fact, I realized that I had channeled some inner Punk Girl of my own, and I hadn’t even had to force it!
The episode ran through my head, and I wondered if I would have gone through with it. After all, I did like Mike’s hard chest and stomach. He had muscles Andrew didn’t have thanks to a daily workout and training. I bet it would have been fun to climb all over him.
Would I have fucked him if he had broken down and agreed?
You bet your ass you would, Team SUAFM shouted.
Of course not! Team Morality piped up. He’s someone else’s boyfriend!
That wasn’t a true objection. If Mike hadn’t had a girlfriend, we’d be heading to the bathroom right then and there to get that dick stuffed up my pussy as quickly as possible. Even if he was too much of a wimp to take the opportunity when it was given to him on a silver platter, I would have done it. I was pretty sure of it.
He would have told all his football buddies, but what did I care? Football season was over, there were only a few months left, and I was likely going to be suspended for fighting anyway.
I didn’t give a fuck. Punk Girl, eat your heart out.
We arrived at the nurse’s office, and Mike stood there with me, awkwardly, while we waited for the nurse to get off the phone.
“Yes, she just got here,” she said to the other person on the phone.
She looked up and nodded to Mike, who looked at me as if to say something, but turned on his heels and left without doing so. He had looked relieved to be out of my presence.
Good.
The nurse saw my bloodied arm, and immediately went to work. She asked me questions about what happened, but my monosyllabic grunts didn’t really give her any more information. I was going to have enough problems with the rumor mill as it was, and saw no reason to speed up the process.
She cleaned up my wound, and checked my head and the rest of my body for any other damage. Finding none, she said, “Well, Shannon, there’s good news in all of this. It doesn’t look like you’re going to need stitches for that arm. So, you’ve lucked out on missing a trip to the hospital.”
I snorted. “Yeah, that’s me. Lucky.”
She sighed, and looked at me compassionately. “Shannon,” she said softly, then stopped. “I need to bandage your arm, but then you need to go straight to the main office.”
“I know,” I said, my voice flat with a hint of irritation.
“You can stay here for as long as you need until you’re ready,” she said, then stood up to go get the bandages.
Whatever. I simply didn’t care. I felt exhausted and overwhelmed. In the past few days I had experienced incredible highs, terrorized by hellacious lows, gotten fucked, laid, licked, sucked, tweaked, and came more times than I could remember. It was exhausting.
I didn’t know which end was up, and I still had no idea how –
I sat bolt upright and ramrod straight. My eyes widened, and my mouth dropped open as I stared into space, recalling what Simone had said just before she dropped the condom on my desk.
“Getting laid by two people in three days,” she had said.
Two people. When I had overheard her in the bathroom, she hadn’t been talking about Andrew. She had been talking about Tracy!
A tunnel rush hit me, and I felt dizzy. Not only had Andrew been telling the truth this whole time, but somehow, in some way and for some reason, Tracy had told Simone.
“Shannon?” the nurse asked. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
I looked at her, and then continued staring past her at the wall as if it held all the answers.
Tracy. Had told Simone. Everything.
But, how? How did Tracy know Simone in the first place? Why would Tracy tell Simone? What did she say, exactly?
None of this made any sense. I didn’t understand. I had more questions than answers, and the best chance for me to get to the bottom of all of this happened to be sitting in the office right at this very moment.