by T. J. LONG
Ann does live in that famous 90210 area code, in a mansion, amongst lots of other students that go to our school. She hates it, which is why she is at my house most days. We became friends on the first day of kindergarten when we bonded over Pop-Tarts. The eternal connector that is food. She had a s’mores flavor, and I had brown sugar. Ann, being the more outgoing of the two of us, sat next to me and started a conversation.
“Do you like chocolate?”
To which I answered, “Of course. Who doesn’t like chocolate?”
“I hate it. I guess my mom doesn’t pay attention.”
She held up her chocolate Pop-Tart and asked if we could swap. We have been friends ever since. I’m not sure if friends is even the correct term—more like sisters. Her parents are always gone on business trips and vacations, leaving her alone with the help. Thankfully, my parents love her as much as I do.
As I push in my chair, I feel someone standing behind me. Nervous that it may be Jed, I turn slowly. I’m expecting to find a giant muscular boy, but instead, I’m met with devious brown eyes. A girl I vaguely remember from a class we had together freshman year stands before me. I don’t know where she came from but she definitely wasn’t in this class. She throws me a mischievous smile as she hops onto my desk and crosses her legs
“So I heard you and Tristan aren’t together anymore, is it true?”
I bite my cheek to hold in the eye roll that’s begging to make its presence known. “That would be true,” I reluctantly say.
Her eyes light up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
Being an athlete meant every girl wanted you and every guy wanted to be “bros” with you. They do it for the status and the status alone. It didn’t hurt that Tristan was actually a good-looking guy, with dirty blonde hair that fell casually down his forehead, blue-green eyes that rivaled sea glass, and a true ball player's body—thick thighs and all. And, of course, I can’t forget about his golden skin from all the days in the sun, shirt off practicing with the team.
I'm pulled from my thoughts of his body by her vile words: “Wow, that’s great news.Well, not for you.” She laughs at me, in my face. What an asshole. “I’m sure you know he’s been on every girl’s radar since we heard about him likely becoming captain of the team next year.”
Have I mentioned how much I loathe cleat chasers? A three-month vacation is exactly what the two of us need, and by two, I mean my heart and my brain. Three months is enough time to get over Tristan so next year the incessant girl drool won’t crush me.
As if Ann can sense my discomfort, she walks into the room. This girl is my rock. I give her a look that screams, “Help me,” knowing she will come to my rescue.
“Hey, don’t I know you?” Ann says to the girl with a hint of laughter in her voice while walking toward us.
The girl looks up, meeting Ann’s eyes, and hops from my desk toward her with unnecessary attitude. “Sorry, you don’t look familiar. At all.” She flips her hair and crosses her arms over her ample breasts.
My eyes roll. She is full of shit. Everyone knows Ann. She was damn near the most popular girl at our school.
“No? Hmm.” Ann’s eyebrows rise as she smacks herself on the forehead like she’s just solved a real life mystery. “I got it! I remember where I know you from.”
I don’t know what the girl is thinking she’ll hear, but I’m surely not expecting what Ann says next.
“You were caught giving blowies to four players at once, right?”
The girl, who’s name I don’t know, goes red and I look at Ann with massive eyes. I try to stifle a laugh by smacking my hand over my mouth, but despite my best efforts, my laughter falls out.
I had heard rumors about a girl who’d suck anyone off but I thought it was just that: a rumor. If Tristan ended up dating her, or anyone else like her, then good luck to him.
Ann keeps staring daggers at the girl until she realizes she’s out of her league. She lets out a little scream and storms out of the room. Ann turns toward me, tilts her head, and gives me a sly smile. “Look at the trouble you’ve caused today. Not only are you making randoms angry with you but half the baseball team wants to date you. Who are you and where’s Taylor?”
No way was I taking responsibility for all the weird happenstances that occurred today. Every day I tried my best to stay to myself and not to draw too much attention. I only needed Ann, and then Tristan when he came along. No one else mattered to me. I focused on them and my studies.
But the breakup and extra visible leg somehow made me beam like a bright light in a dark room. And everyone had noticed.
Clearly, I wasn’t used to it. It’s not that I was unattractive, quite the opposite actually. But my shyness and anxiety really had a hold on me. I was never the bubbly girl that demanded the room's attention.
“This skirt,” I say, grabbing at the hem and pulling it up a tad, “is what did me in, thanks to you.”
Maybe I carried myself differently in it, or maybe people were just acting ballsy because it was the last day of school and they knew it would be awhile before we’d see each other again. Regardless, I was ready for school to be done and for Ann and I to tackle summer, together.
***
On the car ride home Ann and I stop to get our forbidden love—In and Out. I lift my burger to hers for a cheers before she bites into the juicy meat. “Here’s to a boy-free and drama-free summer.” I smash my burger into hers while she side-eyes me.
“Hey, now. I never agreed to no boys. Boys will be a prominent part of my summer.” She wiggles her brows.
“Whatever,” I say and dig in.
All the stress from the day must cause me to overeat because by the time we get to my house my skirt is unbuttoned and partially unzipped. My hands land on my stomach.
“The food baby is in full effect,” I say as we make our way to my room to Netflix and chill—not in that way, perv. Yet after two movies and nearly 5 hours, I’m ready to eat again. “I’m going to head downstairs to see what snacks we have. Do you want anything?”
She lifts herself onto her elbows and purses her lips. “I’ll take gummy snacks if you have them.”
“I’m sure we do,” I say as I head for the kitchen. The pantry is always well stocked. We aren’t a snacking family, but Mom likes to look “cool” when the neighbors and their kids are over. I load up my hands with goodies and skip back up the stairs, ready to continue our 80s movie marathon.
When I step into the room, I throw a box of gummies to Ann but she isn’t paying attention, so the box hits her hard on her thigh. She jumps.
“Ah, shit, that scared me!”
“Well, maybe you need to pay more attention to your surroundings, phone whore.” I shoot her a look.
“Sorry, hot boy texting.” She smiles and wiggles her phone at me. She finally looks down to see what I’ve thrown at her. Holding the box up in the air with a perplexed look on her face, she asks, “Why did you bring me the whole box? It’s bikini season, Tay. I already overdid it with In and Out.”
My eyes roll. “It’s summer. We can let loose,” I say joyfully as I bounce onto the bed with my bag of chips and two bags of assorted candy.
“….So, I see,” she teases.
“Pretty in Pink or Friday The 13th?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
She scoffs and says, “Pret—,” but before she can finish the word, I jump up and grab the remote.
“Friday The 13th it is.” I smile innocently at her. I know Ann hates horror films, but it's my favorite genre and I’ve spent the last few hours watching chick flicks. 80’s horror can’t be beat. Lot’s of running around in the woods and tripping over invisible branches and, of course, the main event: Boobs.
Two hours later, after listening to Ann’s phone buzz throughout the entire movie—boy, oh, boy, it was getting annoying—I turn to her. “Pretend this is the theatre and silence that thing!” I say as I point to her phone.
She makes an embarrassed face and laughs. “S
orry,” she singsongs.
“Who is it anyway? Gosh, You’ve been texting for like two hours straight.”
“Just some guys from school.” She starts to count them on her fingers. “Dickey, Charlie, Robbie, and your boyfriend, Jed.” She smiles at me and makes a kissy face.
I gasp, “Ewww.” My leg makes a swift move and kicks her in the shin. “Muahaha,” I say in the best evil laugh I can emulate.
She howls out in laughter and in pain. “I’m joking, gosh,” she says while rubbing the small ache I’ve created. “Put those weapons away.” She nods toward my legs.
“Fine. They go away, for now, but don’t tempt me,” I warn. I bring my foot near my mouth and blow on it like it’s a pistol from an old western. We both laugh hysterically until her phone dings with another text. “What do they want, anyway?” I ask as I relax back on the bed. I turn on Pretty in Pink because, Lord knows, Ann will have nightmares if the last movie she sees is horror.
“Apparently, there’s an end-of-year party at Dickies and they are trying to persuade me to make an appearance.”
Ann was a hot girl everyone wanted to get close to. She had a bubbly sarcastic personality that got everyone laughing. If I didn’t love her like a sister, I’d be envious of her.
“So, are you going then? I mean, what will they do without you?”
She shrugs. Her phone buzzes again with another message.
“Well, if they are going to keep texting you, then please, please go,” I jokingly beg.
She eyes me and fake laughs. “Well, will you come with?” She gives me a hopeful smile.
“No. Definitely not.” Oh, crap, here come the puppy dog eyes. “No, stop with the eyes. I’m definitely not trying to break my no-boy, no-drama summer so soon… But you go. Have fun.” I pat her shoulder in assurance that I’ll be just fine. I’m fully capable of being left alone.
She turns to me. “Are you sure, like, really sure that you’ll be okay here alone?”
“Yes, seriously. I’ll binge watch horror films and eat my weight in snacks. It’ll be a blast.”
She rolls her eyes but complies.
“Make out with hot guys and tell me all about it.” My eyebrows do a dance, and we giggle like the school girls we are.
I know Ann will tell me all about her trysts tomorrow. This isn’t the first party I've skipped over the years. Freshman year she lost her V-card to a senior and I got all the deets minutes after it happened. I guess you can say I’ve lived vicariously through her and her hookups. She always tells me the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Ann has always been more of a go-getter than me. She has a sexual confidence I can’t seem to muster. I have all the same teenager hormones coursing through me, but that bitch named anxiety never fails to stop me in my place. I had hoped to get there with Tristan, but now that option was off the table. I don’t think I will ever be comfortable with the casual hookup scene, but I hope the next guy I date will get a more confident, less timid Taylor. The Taylor I tried to be at school today.
In the meantime, I am horny and lonely—not a good combination.
I stop the movie and we give each other hugs and make plans to swim and tan the following day, which is what most of our summer will consist of.
Instead of watching another Friday the 13th movie, I decide to wash the drama of the day away. I turn on the water and step out of my wrinkled and, let’s face it, kind of stinky uniform. Then I inch my way into a hot bath. The warmth that invades me causes me to moan in pleasure. I take my hair and twist it into a bun so it doesn’t get soaking wet. “Alexa, play Explosions In The Sky - The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place.”
The music comes bursting through the speakers and takes me to the tranquil place I need to be after the day I’ve had. My phone buzzes a few times, but I ignore it. I know it’s just Ann with party updates.
My hands billow through the water causing the bubbles to disburse and making it look like some abstract piece of art. I breathe out, allowing myself to think of the day's events: Tristan getting annoyed with me, Brian cornering me, and Jed giving me that note. That crazy note messed with me, physically. How did I get so turned on by words from a guy I’ve never had feelings toward?
His note replays in my head: “I want to bend you over and take everything Tristan didn’t.”
I’ve never been so openly wanted. Had Tristan showed this much interest in me, sexually, I can guarantee I wouldn't be a virgin right now. I just needed a little push.
I wish I had had the balls to speak up and tell him what I wanted from him. It was so easy for Ann; why couldn't I get my brain and mouth to work together? Every time things got heated between us, he would pull back, nuzzle my neck, give me a peck, and whisper that he needed to go. And everytime a frown would appear on my lips, but my voice would escape me.
The lack of physical affection often made me feel like I wasn't good enough, like he didn't really want me. I knew I was attractive, but I couldn’t stop the feelings from creeping up. They stormed to the surface when I heard the rumors going around school about him hooking up with a cleat chaser. Why her and not me? Was I not good enough?
“Jed sure thinks so,” I say aloud. Yes, Jed, the boy I’ve never thought about wants me. He wants to fuck me. I laugh at the notion.
Before I know it, I find myself back in the fantasy he painted for me. Jed bending me over the desk, slowly lifting my skirt higher and higher until it exposes my perfectly round ass.
He groans at the sight. Red lace boy shorts barely cover me. His hands travel slowly up my thighs until they reach the curve of my ass. Grabbing a handful of me, he squeezes until it hurts. I moan in pleasure and in pain.
My hand reaches through the bubbles to caress my pussy, which has already grown wet. My finger slides between my folds and I let out a moan as I graze the tip of my clit. “Ahh.”
Jed leans over me until I feel his warm breath on my neck. He whispers in my ear, “Can I touch you?”
I gulp and attempt to nod my head up and down. “Y-yes.”
He turns me over so he can get a full view. Our eyes meet as his hand travels from my neck to my clavicle, then down my chest. He slowly unbuttons my top, exposing my small, braless chest, nipples hard as rock, begging to be licked and sucked. He slowly explores my body like it’s a precious work of art.
His hands make their way to my thighs. I feel the cool breeze on my legs from my skirt being pushed to my waist. A shiver runs through my body as he tightens his grip on my hip bones. His fingers slowly make their way to the waistband of my panties, teasing me with the pleasure my body so desperately craves.
“Please,” I say in a purr, and my hips betray me and lunge forward making me look every bit as desperate as I feel.
He lets out a laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, Taylor, I’m about to touch that perfect pussy.”
I bite my bottom lip and let out a cry. His fingers inch lower until they reach my lower lips. My legs spread so far that I’m touching two desks. He begins to rub me over my panties, causing them to soak with the wetness he’s drawing from me. He’s a true master of his craft. I already feel the beginnings of an orgasm. It feels so different from when I touch myself, so much more pleasurable.
My body shakes. “Oh please,” I beg, wanting to be touched like I’ve never been touched before.
Like a mind reader, he reaches for both sides of my panties and slowly tugs them from me. He smiles at me and licks his lips. Holding my panties in his hand, leaving me completely exposed spread eagle on the desks, he stares, worshipping my bare pussy. “Does it want me, Taylor? It looks like it wants me.”
My chest heaves. My pussy is sopping wet. Yes, yes, it wants you. “Touch me, please,” I cry from need. My hips move slightly from side to side to ease the yearning of needing him, all of him.
Just when I’m on the brink of coming, my phone interrupts my fantasy with three consecutive message alerts.
Damn it. Talk about bad timing.
I’m not getting out
to check those. I'm sure it's still just Ann telling me about the party and how she wishes I was there, yada, yada, yada.
My fingers go back to their position on my clit. Gently, I rub again.
“Where was I?” Oh, yes, Jed had just taken off my panties.
Buzz buzz… Ugh, seriously?
I lift my head to peer at my phone, as if I can read the texts from this angle.
Buzz.
“Ugh,” I let out a frustrated growl.
I give up. I let the bath drain, and as I sit in the lowering water, I laugh at myself and my ridiculous imagination for thinking a 17-year-old boy could give me the things I just fantasized about. Everyone knows high school boys only care about pleasing themselves.
I blame the Kindle app. I read too many romance novels. My expectations are so high, I bet I’ll stay a virgin forever. I roll my eyes at that fun realization and stand up.
I look at myself in the mirror and watch as the bubbly lather falls slowly from my small perky tits down my bare plump pussy. I take this moment to drink myself in. My hair is still in a messy bun on my head, pieces that have escaped framing my face in an angelic way. My frame is quite desirable, with small but full hips, a petite waist, a handful of tits, and an ass that even Ann is jealous of.
I’m feeling pretty confident, and I smile at myself in the mirror as I reach for my phone. Sure enough, it's Ann. I’m met with multiple texts and a few picture messages. I reach for a towel and head to my bed to see what this hooligan has to say.
Ann: Wish you were here. So many hot guys.
She followed the message with a picture of said hot guys. I laugh at the boy craziness of her.
Ann: I’m happy you didn’t come because Tristan showed up with some questionable looking girls.
Of course he freaking did. I roll my eyes. It makes no sense why he’s acting this way. Screw him.
Ann: I’ve just met my future husband. I’m serious. I’m sending a picture now.
I’m intrigued. Ann never talks about boys in a long-term type of scenario. I think her parents screwed up her idea of love. They always left her alone. I’m sure it created some fear of being abandoned. I’m glad I can be a constant for her, at least.
