He leaned against the wall and looked down the hallway to his target. He smiled when he saw her smile. Her three friends surrounded her as usual. The two queen Bees of the school Maddie and Jo and their lackey Brooke who looked like a 12-year-old girl.
Ice and her two best friends were beyond gorgeous that was for sure, but there was something about the 5’5 black beauty that just grabbed his attention. Was it the way she always stood just a little further from her friends as if creating a barrier? Was it the way she hugged her books to her chest? The way she always avoided direct eye contact with everybody around her? Or maybe it was how untouchable she seemed.
He looked her up and down. Her hair was put into a messy updo with side bangs. She had on a green cardigan and a white skirt that flattered her long dark legs.
Peyton watched as she nodded and smiled politely as she listened to her friends. He could tell she wasn’t really paying attention. She might have been staring at her friends, but he could tell her mind was somewhere else. This intrigued him. He watched as she tugged her earlobe. She looked down at her feet, seemingly mesmerized by something on the ground.
Peyton smiled, she was strange, and he loved it. It was time to get his Ice princess’ attention. He ran his fingers through his hair, leaned back against the wall and stared pointedly at her.
“Over here Ice.” He whispered softly.
He stared intensely until she finally looked in his direction, her eyes settling on him. Peyton smiled and Ice bit her lip and looked back to her group. That biting the lip thing she did was damn sexy and if she kept it up, he would have no choice but to bite it himself.
She looked at him again and Peyton nodded his head. Ice smiled a little and nodded too.
She looked back to her friends and nodded at their conversation. Not a minute passed before she turned her head back to look at him. Peyton took out the cigarette from behind his ear, pointed at her with it and then pointed at himself. She ever so subtly shook her head and tugged at her earlobe, returning her attention to her group.
He smiled and waited for her to look at him again.
She did.
Peyton motioned to the exit sign and put the cigarette to his mouth.
Come. He mouthed as he backed up a bit towards the exit.
He could see the hesitation in her stance. The way she looked from him to the three girls around her and back to him again.
He thought she was going to refuse his invitation until she said something to her group of friends and backed away, her hands out slightly.
Peyton smiled as he turned and walked out the exit.
Ice was coming.
**
Ice smiled as she walked through the exit door. “I don’t smoke.” She whispered. Peyton was waiting for her, elbows propped against the railing, leaning casually as he stared at the door.
He grinned. “I know but I do. You can be my smoking buddy.”
He lit the cigarette putting it back in his mouth. He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist casually and comfortably as though it was a common occurrence. They walked further from the door and towards the football field, oblivious to the person who’d opened the exit door behind them.
Brooke watched Peyton and Ice walk further away without a backward glance. Her lips tight as she narrowed her eyes at the tall blond-haired teenage boy.
**
“Relax.” Peyton said as he sat on the rail and blew out smoke. “It’s lunchtime. You’re not missing any classes.
He watched her as she fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. “I know it’s not that. You could get into so much trouble for smoking on school property.” She said looking worried.
Peyton shrugged. “Live a little hun. What are they gonna do shoot me?”
“I guess not.” She replied.
He noticed her staring at his hands again. This time he was sure he didn’t have charcoal or paint on them. He moved his hand to see if she would follow it, and sure enough, she did.
He smiled.
Ice shook her head, looked back at his hand and sighed. She looked at the sky and slowly back to his hand.
She softly muttered something.
“What?” He asked as he took his last drag and tossed the butt of the cigarette on the ground. He squished it with his heel.
“Can I touch your hands?” She asked a little louder.
She looked a little embarrassed. “I know it’s weird, don’t ask…umm…I just wanna touch them.” She trailed off.
“Be my guest.” Peyton said, opening up his hands to her.
He watched as Ice shyly put her hands in his. He stared at her as she softly touched his fingers. Gently caressed it with her index finger.
Peyton stirred.
He instinctively stepped closer, but she didn’t notice.
“I love your hands.” Ice whispered. She intertwined her fingers with his and Peyton admired their contrasting skin tones.
“They’re so masculine yet not at the same time.” Ice said looking at him. “I don’t even know how to explain it.”
Peyton stared at her in amazement.
He didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t fucked anyone in a while but having her touch his hands in that manner had just given him an erection.
Ice took Peyton’s left hand in both of hers. Leaving his right hand to roam.
And roam it did. Peyton put his right hand on her hip and gently brought her closer to him. He stood up spread his legs a little bit and leaned against the rail. He brought her body in-between his legs, never once taking his eyes off her face.
Peyton didn’t even know if Ice was still here or lost in her own world. He watched as she brought his hand to her face closed her eyes and kissed his fingers.
“Ice.” He breathed. His voice had gotten deeper and his breaths a little shallower.
“Huh?” She asked softly her eyes still closed as she slowly put the tip of his middle finger in her mouth.
“Fuck.” Peyton whispered in awe.
He abruptly took his hand from her mouth, startling her. He lowered his head and pressed his lips hard against her parted ones.
Peyton knew he caught her off guard, so he brought both of his hands to the side of her face, pulled her in and kissed her gently.
He almost let go of her mouth when she didn’t respond. But she did respond. Softly at first as if tasting him, then she pressed a little harder. Her lips were so soft and tasted slightly of a fruit he couldn’t think of right now.
Her arms went around his neck to pull him in for a deeper kiss. She rose slightly on her toes as she tilted her head into his. Peyton slowly slid his arms around her waist. On arm rested right at the arch of her back, while the other he lowered. Slowly but confidently his left hand slid over her butt. He grabbed the linen material of the skirt, along with her right butt cheek and pressed her against himself.
A soft moan escaped Ice’s lips, causing Peyton to groan in acknowledgment.
His tongue probed her mouth open as he continued kissing her. He knew that the day he’d finally gotten to kiss his Ice princess, it would be worth it. He just didn’t know it would be this amazing. He couldn’t remember kissing somebody with this much longing.
“I’m sorry…,” Ice said breathlessly breaking the kiss.
“Don’t apologize.” Peyton said kissing her again.
“No…I’m sorry…boyfriend.” Ice tried to push him away.
“It’s okay.” Peyton kissed her neck and froze in confusion.
Ice pushed herself off him. Hands shaking, she quickly covered her mouth and she stared at him guiltily. She brought her hands down and shook them nervously/
“I have a boyfriend.” She whispered backing away from him.
“I have a boyfriend.” She repeated as if she needed to convince herself.
“I have a boyfriend.” She looked at the ground and rubbed her hands to her face.
“You said that already.” Peyton said in annoyance.
Ice closed he
r eyes. “I shouldn’t be out here kissing you.” She abruptly turned around ran back to the school building.
Dinner
(Ice)
“Can I see your hands?” She asked herself incredulously. She slammed her bedroom door and threw her book bag on the floor.
“Can I see your hand? What kind of question is that?” She went to the corner of the room and banged on her wall. She hit the wall with her fists trying to let out some frustration and ignored the pain that was slowly creeping up her knuckles.
“Uuuggghhh!” She screamed forgetting to put her hand over her mouth as usual.
Ice took off her cardigan and threw it against the wall. “Not only do I ask to see his beautiful hands but then I touch it… I touch it as though I’m some kind of sick weirdo.” She yelled again.
She ignored the butterflies that appeared in her stomach as she remembered the feel of his hands.
Ice unbuttoned her skirt and let it fall to the ground. She started to breathe heavily out of frustration. “I kiss his hands…I freaking kiss his hands…If asking them to see it wasn’t bad enough, I end up acting even weirder.” She said enraged as she stomped on her skirt.
She took off her shoes and flung them, one hit her desk and the other the lamp that barely budged.
She marched off towards her walk-in closet. “And if that wasn’t slutty enough, I kiss him. I just fling myself on him without a care in the world.” She raged as she started roughly tearing some clothes off the hanger.
Just like that, she stopped.
Her finger touched her lips, remembering the feel of Peyton’s lips against hers. Involuntarily a small smile came across her face. She bit down on her bottom lip to try to stop it. She closed her eyes and leaned against one of the walls.
“What’s wrong with me?” She asked softly to no one in particular.
Ice opened her eyes and looked around the room not quite believing that she had caused this amount of mess in such little time.
“Come on Ice, you’re calm and collected…you don’t through fuc--…you don’t through unnecessary tantrums like everybody else.” She said to herself quietly.
Ice picked out one of her housedresses and slowly put it on. She rubbed her temple. Sighed and held back tears.
Knock! Knock!
Ice turned her head to look outside the entrance of her walk-in closet. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists. “Not now…please God…not now.” She pleaded through clenched teeth.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
The person on the other side persisted.
“God, why do you hate me?” Ice asked as she held back tears. She took a deep breath and slowly walked out of her closet.
“Iceria Johnson open the door this instant.”
Ice heard the venomous words and cringed. She held the doorknob for a few seconds before turning it and slowly opening the door.
“Took you long enough.” Melissa Johnson glared as she pushed the door open with one of her long red polished fingers.
“Sorry, ma’am.” Ice said quietly looking down as her mother stepped into her room.
Melissa Johnson was a gorgeous tall slender woman at 38. Her complexion was a couple shades lighter than Ice. She had the same big almond eyes, but her iris was hazel. She always entered a room as though she was the queen of Sheba. From her neck down, she was ordained in the latest fashion and jewelry. Not one single article on her cost less than $500. Including the small green brooch, she had on the left side of her costumed made dress.
“You should never keep a lady waiting. It is impolite. Do you understand?” She asked, staring down at Ice.
Ice nodded.
Melissa put one hand on her hip. “Excuse me young lady. Do I look deaf? I clearly spoke to you. Thus, the least you can do is to speak back.”
Ice swallowed. “Yes ma’am.”
“Humph.” Melissa said unsatisfied. She turned around to survey the room.
“Have you lost your mind? What the hell is wrong with your room?” Melissa shrieked. “It looks like garbage.” She pinched her nose. “And it smells, I don’t remember raising a dirty boy.”
Ice looked around the room. It was spotless, except for her school clothes that she’d left on the ground. She tried to control her breathing. Her head was hurting. She needed to control her random outburst. Her mother kept talking in that annoying uppity voice of hers. Ice played with the doorknob and tried to drown out what she was saying.
“Are you listening to me?” Melissa said getting in her face.
“Yes Melissa.” Ice replied forcing a small smile on her face. She knew her mom hated to be called mother, mom, or anything relating to her being a parent.
“I said your room is dirty, clean it. You are not a peasant. Thus, you should not act like one.” She repeated forcefully.
Melissa looked at Ice’s hair.
“And do something about your hair it is disgusting.” Melissa said turning up her nose. She ran her hands through her own straight perfect shoulder length hair. “It makes you look like a commoner.”
Melissa turned to walk out. As soon as she was out the room, she inhaled and then let out an exaggerated breath of relief.
“Oh yes, that dress you have on is hideous. Go put on the blue one I bought you last week. We are having guests for dinner. The Richards are coming over.” Melissa finished not once turning around. Her back facing her daughter, she strutted down the hallway.
Ice heard Melissa’s heels clicking all the way down the stairs then she softly closed her door. She leaned against the door for a little while and closed her eyes.
“I don’t feel anything…I’m immune to everything she says.” She whispered.
She looked around the room and couldn’t believe she could be so disorderly and disgusting. Hurriedly she picked up her clothes and her shoes. She threw her clothes in the hamper, went in her walk-in closet and organized her shoes. She stepped back unsatisfied. She tried to rearrange several other shoes.
“How can I be so messy?” She whispered fervently as she picked up the clothes she had torn from the hangers.
She didn’t put them back on the hanger because now she knew her mom would consider them dirty. She dumped them in the hamper too.
She hastily took off her dress and put that in the hamper. She looked through the hangers to find the blue dress she’d recently acquired. She put it on slowly.
It wasn’t until she went to the bathroom that she realized that tears were streaming down her cheeks. She splashed cold water on her face and wiped it harshly with a face towel. She picked up her brush and brushed her hair repeatedly. She only stopped when her head was throbbing with pain. She dropped her brush on the floor.
She took a deep breath and did her breathing exercise. “1…2… breath…exhale…1…2...breath…exhale.” Feeling a little better, she gently fixed her bangs and pulled her hair up in a high back ponytail. Looking at herself in the mirror, she thought she looked like a middle school girl instead of a 17-year-old senior.
Sighing she opened her mirror and took out her make up case. She closed the mirror and applied some eyeliner, mascara and a hint of red lipstick. Her mother’s favorite.
All of a sudden, her mind went back to Peyton. She bit her lip and smiled when she thought back on the kiss.
She closed her eyes.
His hands had felt so good on her body. She softly touched her neck, her hands slowly drifted down over her breasts and then down to her stomach. She hugged herself remembering his scent.
“I should stop.” She smiled to herself in the mirror.
With that, she turned and walked out her bathroom and through her walk-in closet. She looked over her bedroom. Satisfied with the condition of her room, she opened the door, quickly shut it and ran back to the closet. She picked out a pair of yellow heels her mom had bought her for her 15th birthday. She put them on and ran to her bedroom door.
Ice stopped, opened the door and walked out with an air that rivaled that of the quee
n of England.
She made it down the stairs just in time to see the Richards heading towards the dining room.
“Well if it isn’t the lovely Iceria.” Mr. Richards said happily as he stretched out his arms to pull her into a big hug.
Ice smiled. Mr. Richards reminded her of a black Santa Clause, all round and jolly.
“Why Iceria, you look so beautiful darling.” Mrs. Richards smiled and gave her a smaller hug. Mrs. Richards was a small petite dark-skinned woman, with a smile that could light up the place. Ice held onto the hug a little longer than necessary, she would be lying if she said she didn’t adore this woman.
Ice: Part I Page 3
