by Lola Swain
Problem was, he was in his room with Mandy Cantervoss. She goes to school with us and she is very straight. Silly me figured that it was no problem that Nico was in there with Mandy. I just wanted to fuck. I knew that it wouldn’t take long and if she wanted to join us, I was certainly down. But Nico said that Mandy was horrified and inconsolable after she watched us fuck. The bitch didn’t leave the room, but she was pretty upset. So upset in fact, she took it upon herself to write Brother Fucker in neon yellow spray paint across my locker for the entire school to see.
Papa would not allow us kids to have sex until we turned eighteen. We were subjected to his Control Sessions when we entered puberty. It was his way to ensure we had control over our emotions. Papa believes, and now I am convinced, that the most powerful urges are born of the desire for flesh. That desire, when out of control, has the potential to cause war, topple civilizations, raze infrastructure.
I have always had an issue with impulse control and sex. I want it when I want it and with whom I want it. It may not appear to be a very adult way to handle your body, but it is the purest definition of hedonism and Papa ingrained that philosophy into us at a very young age. And a hedonistic lifestyle is a wonderful way to live. Problem is, in order for the lifestyle to succeed and flourish, all participants have to subscribe to the same value. My family and I do all live extremely hedonistic lives. Mandy Cantervoss, does not.
I fucked up by shining the glaring light of difference on myself and my brother in front of Mandy when I knocked her off his cock and jumped on it in front of her. And I know all families do not live like ours. I know this. But I wanted Nico’s cock. Not five minutes from then or the next day, but at that exact moment. So I took it. But now we’re paying the price and for that, I feel like shit. Our family cannot risk being outted. I did this. I outted us.
“Okay,” my brother Alexander said when we gathered in Papa’s office, “today was a really shitty day for all of us. There were some harsh words spoken and things escalated physically between Nico and Lyric. While we all understand why Nico is upset, Lyric is upset as well and did not intend to put us at risk. With that said, I want to remind everyone that we are here to figure out a solution to our problem. We all know what that problem is and there is no need to rehash or blame. So, where are we at? Nico, have you spoken with Mandy Cantervoss since Lyric and I left school today?”
“No.” Nico said and sighed. “I tried to approach her at lunch and again after the final bell, but she ran from me both times. She seems afraid of me now. But I want everyone to know that after the stunt Lyric pulled in my room in front of her, I thought I had her straightened out. She allowed me to fuck her and, of course, she had an amazing time. When she left our apartment, I had no indication that she would spray paint Brother Fucker across Lyric’s locker.”
“What if it wasn’t her?” Rose said.
“Who else could it be, Rose?” Nico said. “No one else has seen Lyric and I fuck. No, it was definitely her.”
“Okay, so we’re under the assumption that Mandy Cantervoss wrote that on Lyric’s locker. Now, what do we do about it?” Alexander said.
“I think we should just leave her alone,” Julian said. “Perhaps the people who did see it won’t think anything of it. After you and Lyric left school today, I paid one of the janitors to scrub the paint off before the third period bell rang. So, really, only the kids that were near the lockers between first and second saw the sign.”
“That’s true,” Serene said. “I didn’t even think of that. Perhaps not a lot of people saw it? If so, maybe we should do what Julian says and let it die.”
“Yeah,” I said, “but Bobby Sharpe gave me a definite dirty look in Professor Teresi’s class. I didn’t go to my locker before first bell so what if she did it before that?”
“Bobby Sharpe?” Rose said. “Come on Lyric, Bobby Sharpe gives everyone dirty looks.”
“He also called me a weirdo,” I said.
“You are a weirdo, Lyric.” Nico said and laughed.
It was the first time he addressed me since the incident at the lockers and it felt nice even if he teased me. Nico is the only one I fucked. Where Alexander and I have a more traditional brother-sister relationship, Nico and I have a full-on passionate, tense fuck-fest of a connection. It was growing stronger until I screwed up with the Mandy stunt. I love Nico, same as I do the others. I just happen to always want to fuck him. Each of my brothers is hot, but Nico has something that I am attracted to a billion times over.
“Okay, are we all in agreement that we let the thing with Mandy lie?” Alexander said.
We all said yes, except for Serene.
“I don’t think we should. I think we should confront her and make her admit it and then make her suffer for it!”
“Serene, it will get us nowhere. What are we going to do, knife her after school and hope no one investigates? She’s too public and she’ll be missed,” Julian said.
“Julian’s right, Serene.” Nico said and lay on the floor next to Serene as he stroked her hair. “As much as everyone wants to make her pay for what she did to Lyric, we need to leave this alone.”
“Fine.” Serene said. “But I want it to go on record that I am against this.”
“It’s been duly noted,” Alexander said and chuckled. “Okay, if there’s nothing else, we can adjourn.”
“Actually, Alexander,” I said, “there is something else. Today in the park, Alexander and I—”
“Had a wonderful time,” Alexander said. “We don’t need to bore them with the details of our park visit, okay, Lyric?”
I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to tell them what Professor Teresi’s wife told us in the park, but apparently Alexander didn’t think it a good idea. With so many wrong assumptions under my belt at that point, I suppose it was wise to listen to someone else for a change.
I stayed behind with Alexander as the others left Papa’s office. Nico hugged me and everyone seemed a lot more relaxed than we were at school. We had to keep up appearances. For Papa’s sake.
“Alexander, what am I going to do about this meeting with Headmaster Wells? Should I tell Papa to expect a letter? A phone call?”
“I think you should just act as if you know nothing. Like seeing the wife in the park never happened. Hopefully by the time Papa gets called in for the meeting, he’ll be out of town. Or maybe we can say he’s out of town and Carla can go in his place. She’ll do anything for us.”
“That’s a perfect idea,” I said. “Carla will definitely cover for us!”
“See?” Alexander said and hugged me. “Problem solved! We have time to decide what to do, Lyric.”
But there was no time.
The next morning, as I sat in Professor Teresi’s class pissed off because he didn’t show up for the second time, Alden Jensen came into glass and handed our substitute teacher a note.
“Lyric Trucido?” Mrs. Albanao said as she read the note.
I knew what they wanted and immediately felt dizzy.
“Yes?” I said.
“Headmaster Wells is requesting your presence, now. Please gather your belongings and go directly to his office.”
The kids muttered and murmured as I stuffed my books into my book bag. Bobby Sharpe shook his head at me and laughed as I walked by his desk. Idiots. All of them.
I walked down the corridor slowly as I made my way toward the headmaster’s office. I knew Papa was coming and the fact that I hadn’t given him advanced warning scared the fuck out of me. Papa never likes surprises and he doesn’t like threats toward his identity or his family. I presented him with both. I took a deep breath and opened the door to the office and Papa was the first person I saw.
I stopped and stared at him in the doorway. He looked so handsome in his black suit and long black cashmere coat. He removed his leather gloves and cracked his knuckles as he stared at me. He smiled, but his eyes were as dark as the sky before an August afternoon rainstorm.
“Ah…Lyric has ar
rived,” Papa said to the headmaster’s secretary. “Lyric, come and sit here.”
He patted the empty seat next to him and I walked toward him. His eyes never lost their dark and his smile never waned. He was fucking pissed.
“Hi, Papa,” I said as I sat down.
I rested my head on his shoulder and he moved away from me.
“What am I doing here, hmm?” Papa said through clenched teeth. “Why was I called out of a most important meeting to meet you here?”
“Papa, I can explain everything,” I said.
“Mr. Trucido and Lyric?” the secretary said and stood from her chair. “Headmaster Wells will see you now.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll find out first hand, now,” Papa said as he grabbed me by the arm and led me into the office.
Headmaster Wells is a big, fat jolly looking man who always smiles. His face is flushed red from too much liquor, but he seems pretty together. He was not smiling, however, when Papa and I walked into his office.
Papa extended his hand and Headmaster Wells shook it. He dipped his head and it almost looked as if he was bowing to Papa. It made me giggle and both men gave me dirty looks. Headmaster Wells asked us to sit in the leather club chairs in front of his desk. He offered Papa coffee, me nothing, cleared his throat and spoke.
“I bring you both into my office today to discuss a problem that was brought to my attention by Professor Teresi and his wife.”
Papa stiffened in the chair beside me. He knew why we were there.
“Excuse me,” I said, “his wife? What on earth does Professor Teresi’s wife have to do with anything?”
“Lyric, Professor Teresi’s wife has very much to do with everything in this matter,” Headmaster Wells said and turned to Papa. “You see Mr. Trucido, it appears Lyric has a crush on Professor Teresi. Now I know schoolgirl crushes are somewhat commonplace, however, Lyric crossed a line when she appeared at Professor Teresi’s apartment the other day.”
I stared at the paper Headmaster Wells ran his fingers back and forth over. But I felt Papa turn his head and his eyes burned in the side of my face.
“His apartment, you say?” Papa said. “Lyric, did you go to Professor Teresi’s home, uninvited?”
“Yes,” I said as I stared at the paper.
“Well,” Headmaster Wells said, “I do want to impress upon you, Lyric that Professor and Mrs. Teresi were in no way pleased you violated their personal space. Our teachers are our teachers. They are not friends or buddies and it is unacceptable to pop over to their homes uninvited.”
My face burned. It was not just from the humiliation of being called out by Headmaster Wells. It was not just from the anger I felt toward Professor Teresi because he totally caved to his wife and threw me under the bus. It was also from Papa. That’s what terrified me the most. Papa made me burn.
“Lyric,” Papa said, “do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Fine,” Papa said and stood from his chair and buttoned his coat. “Lyric understands, Headmaster Wells. You will not have a repeat of this juvenile behavior. What do I do with such silly teenage girls? These three girls will be the death of me!”
Papa chuckled but he was not laughing. I stood from my chair with my head bowed and Headmaster Wells reached out and pulled down on my arm.
“Yes, I sympathize, Mr. Trucido. But if you would take a seat again, we have one more matter concerning Lyric to discuss.”
I plopped back down in my chair and Papa lowered to his. I kept my head bowed and my eyes shut. I wished I could turn myself into one of those balled-up bugs and roll the fuck out of the office.
“Okay,” Papa said and crossed his arms over his chest. “I hope this doesn’t take too long because I’ve already been called out of one meeting. What, now? Another crush?”
Papa put his hand on the back of my head and applied pressure until I lifted my head.
“No,” Headmaster Wells said, “something more serious. It seems your son Julian approached one of our maintenance technicians yesterday with some money to do something. The technician did it, but as it seemed like a bribe and in violation of our employee’s code of conduct, brought me the money. And a picture of the, well, offense.”
Headmaster Wells shuffled some papers around his desk and found the picture. He glanced at it, looked up at me and shook his head. He turned the picture toward Papa, leaned over his desk and held the photo in front of his face. I didn’t need to look at it, I knew already what it was. But Papa increased the pressure on the back of my head and forced me to look at it as he studied it too. And there it was, memorialized in an 8x10 color glossy…my locker with the words Brother Fucker painted across the top in yellow neon.
Papa turned my head so I faced him, his wrath evident, and cleared his throat.
“Well, this appears to be the case of Lyric being bullied,” Papa said and released my head as he turned to Headmaster Wells. “And what will you do about it?”
The headmaster sat down and looked back and forth between me and Papa.
“Mr. Trucido, I do not think this is the case at all. You are very active with Wilton Day and we do appreciate your unique situation, being a single father to six teenagers must be difficult. But after surveying the situation, I really must go to the Board to see what to do about this.”
“The Board?” Papa said. “Why must you go to the Board? I am on the Board as well, but it sounds as if you are implying this is Lyric’s fault.”
“Mr. Trucido, the Board is always informed when there is talk and I can assure you there has been talk. For many years there has been discussion about you and your family. Discussions that we have not, until now, brought to your attention. We feel that we need to discuss this with the Board as we cannot have any rumors, or otherwise, disrupting the other children. I am sure you understand.”
“No, I do not understand,” Papa said and stood from his chair. “It sounds as if you are blaming Lyric for being bullied and feel that you need to hold all my children responsible for your lack of backbone. I do not know of this talk you speak of, but my children, same as the others, should not be disrupted!”
“Mr. Trucido, I am suspending Lyric until the Board is able to discuss what to do with the rumors about her and your other children. If we deem that these are just the silly machinations of teenagers, so be it. Lyric can then return to school. If not, well, we will need to further discuss what to do with Lyric and your other children.”
“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I cannot believe you are suspending my child at will, for no reason,” Papa said and looked down at me. “Get up Lyric, we are going!”
“Mr. Trucido, you will note that Wilton Day is a private school, we have strict code of conduct guidelines, a contract, that all children must follow. Lyric broke those rules just with her jaunt over to Professor Teresi’s home and she needs to face the consequences. I have a duty to all children at this school. If they will be harmed or influenced by someone or something that has the potential to damage them, it must be investigated.”
Papa and I walked to the door and he turned to face Headmaster Wells. I closed my eyes and wished for Papa to kill him, but he did not.
“Again, I do not understand, Headmaster Wells,” Papa said as he opened the office door. “I am taking Lyric home now and will send my driver to retrieve the other children as soon as he takes us to our apartment. Have them at the entrance in fifteen minutes! You will be hearing from me again.”
Papa and I left the office and he gripped my arm as we walked through the corridor of the school.
“Papa,” I said as he dragged me toward our car, “this is not my fault. Professor Teresi’s cunt of a wife caused this! It’s her fault, Papa!”
“Shut your fucking mouth and get in the car,” Papa said through clenched teeth as our driver opened the door to the Town Car for us.
Papa refused to speak to me the whole way back to our apartment. When we got into the elevator, he looked do
wn at me and grabbed my arm.
“When we cross the threshold, you will join me in the utility room,” he said.
The terror shot through my body as we ascended toward the apartment and I clenched my legs together to hold back the urge to piss myself. When the doors opened, Papa dragged me from the elevator, through the foyer and into the kitchen by my hair. Carla stood at the sink and swung around as Papa fumbled with the pad lock on the door.
“Oh, Lyric,” she said, “what have you done?”
I looked at her through my tears and trembled. I couldn’t speak as Papa removed the pad lock from the hinge and opened the door.
“Mr. Lucien, please,” Carla said.
Papa ignored her and flung me into the room by my hair. I hit the stone floor and felt the skin peel from my knees. He slammed the heavy door closed and walked to the center of the damp-smelling room and yanked the chain to turn on the overhead bulb. The bulb swung back and forth, illuminating the scariest parts of the room for a moment before plunging them back into darkness.
This is Papa’s torture chamber. And while none of us kids had the displeasure of experiencing it until now, it was the one threat Papa held over our heads. There was no time-out chair in our world. It was this room.
Papa circled me slowly. I watched his shiny, black wingtips move past me as they clicked on the hard floor.
“What shall I do with you, Lyric?” Papa said and kicked me in the ribs. “What shall I do to this petulant child of my own flesh?”
“Papa, I’m sorry,” I said as I rolled over on my back and stared up at him.
“Sorry?” Papa said and kicked me again in my side. “You say you’re sorry? What will we do, Lyric, hmm? What will we do if we are exposed because of you?”
