Overlooked

by Lulu Pratt

  It’s almost six, and they should be home soon. I don’t understand how it takes five hours to buy bras.

  Good thing I didn’t have to go. I’d have made Piper get the first thing she saw. We would’ve been in and out of Target in five minutes.

  Somehow I don’t think Piper would’ve been happy with that.

  Regardless, Avery’s coming here for pizza. Tonight it would be nice to make it through the night with the ability to stand and walk her to the door like a normal person. Unlike last night, when I had such a raging hard-on that I couldn’t stand and anyone would’ve seen the gigantic bulge in my jeans.

  The only way to solve that is with a quick release, to keep my dick from getting too excited when it hears her voice.

  Minutes later, I’m in the bathroom with the door locked, in case they come home anytime soon.

  My hard cock is in my hand and I’m doing my best to think of anyone but Avery. I think of Charlize Theron. I think of Beyoncé. I think of Jennifer Lawrence. But my mind keeps running back to the sounds Avery made when she was smushed up against her window screen.

  The memory of each little sound sends my cock stiffer and makes my back tense. Tingles radiate from my groin through my entire body, and I keep stroking, remembering the look of her face as she came.

  I want that look for me. A shudder rips through me as cum spurts from my cock. Fuck, I’ve got to stop doing this. I need to stop fantasizing about her while jerking off.

  Except I keep saying that, and I keep doing it. Like I’m some kind of pimply teenager with his first crush.

  After cleaning myself up, I head into the living room to relax while I wait for Piper and Avery to get home.

  I promised Piper pizza. What’s Avery’s favorite type of pizza? It’s probably spinach or something girly. That’s fine, I can order whatever, I’ll just get a meat lover for myself.

  Since it’s after six, I order two pizzas, one meat lover and one vegetarian so we won’t have to wait for them after they get home.

  At six thirty, Piper flies through the door, slamming it behind her. Her arms are loaded down with bags. I assume she spent every penny I gave her.

  Piper’s buzzing with adrenaline. She flits into the living room and dumps the contents of her bags onto the couch.

  “Where’s Avery?” I ask.

  “She went home. Said she’s not feeling well. Thinks she’s coming down with something.”

  Bullshit. She’s hiding from me. Maybe I gave her too much of a hard time last night.

  Leaving Piper to examine her hoard, I go over to Avery’s and ring the doorbell. Nothing. I knock on the door. She doesn’t answer. But I know she’s in there, so I pound a little harder.

  “Avery,” I yell through the door.

  Silence. She’s hiding.

  A smirk forms on my face and I silently laugh at how much I’ve rattled her. Another time.

  The pizza delivery guy arrives while I’m standing on her doorstep. I wander back to meet him at his car. After paying him, I take both pizzas and wonder what to do with the vegetarian.

  It doesn’t take long to decide to leave it on Avery’s doorstep.

  “Here’s your pizza I ordered you. I’m leaving it on your doorstep, you can get it after I go home — since I know how you don’t want me to catch your cold and all,” I yell through her door.

  Back inside, I put the meat lover pizza on my kitchen table and get out two plates.

  “Pizza,” I call.

  Piper bounds into the room, wearing a different outfit than the one she arrived home in.

  “Those new clothes? They’re nice,” I say, trying to relate to the girl.

  “Thanks. Avery helped me pick them.”

  I don’t dare ask about the bras she went to buy.

  “So you had fun?”

  “Yes, Avery’s so awesome. And guess what, she had lots of fun last night and really likes you. Like, really likes you.”

  That’s why she had to run home and hide.

  “Oh,” I say, not wanting to enter into this sort of conversation with her.

  After the pizza is gone, I sit through a fashion show of Piper modeling all her new clothes in various combinations. Fortunately she doesn’t mention the bras either.

  When she’s bored of that, we watch another episode of Law & Order before she heads to bed.

  Piper’s been asleep for awhile, and I grab my iPad for my now nightly ritual of watching Avery’s videos.

  My eyes nearly pop out of my head when I see today’s video, F*ck Buddies. My finger flies across the screen and clicks “watch now.”

  Unlike her normal videos, this one is raw with emotion. Her normal cool, controlled self is nowhere in sight. Instead, she’s appealing to her viewers to tell her if she should fuck me or not.

  My heart hammers against my ribs. I’ve rattled her. There’s not a shred of doubt in my mind that this video is about me.

  Avery said she only wants casual sex. Fine by me, that’s all I want too. Except she said she wanted it because she’d never be interested in a relationship with him, because he’s a jerk.

  She thinks I’m a jerk?

  Whatever. She’s a judgmental meddler. That doesn’t need to stop us having a good time.

  It takes all my self control not to barge over there right now and fuck her senseless.

  But I have to think about Piper.

  There must be a way to keep it secret from Piper. Avery’s home in the day. I’m usually home in the day. We can fuck while she’s at school.

  We would just have to make sure Piper never, under any circumstances, found out. Ever.

  And we have to be clear from the outset that this is purely a fuck-buddy arrangement. A convenient one, since she lives next door.

  I can’t resist commenting.

  Ox Man: He doesn’t want a relationship either, go suck him off already. You know you’re gagging for it.

  Avery

  Knox’s muffled voice comes through the door, saying something about leaving a pizza for me.

  I intend to leave it, but realize the animals will get it and make a mess. After twenty minutes, I creak open the door and whip it inside. It’s untouched, the neighborhood cats and wildlife haven’t found it yet.

  At least I have dinner. I carry it into my kitchen, intending to microwave it before eating it in front of the TV. Setting it on the hopelessly old and out-of-date countertop, I get a plate and fling open the lid.

  What is it? There’s no pepperoni. My nostrils flare as I lean in and look closer. There doesn’t appear to be any meat at all. Oh well, I guess beggars can’t be choosers, but I’m really surprised a rugged man like Knox orders vegetarian pizza.

  He’s full of surprises.

  On Sunday, I spend the entire day hiding inside. Even though it’s nearly eighty degrees out and I don’t have any fans or air conditioning, all my windows are shut tight. The idea is to pretend I’m not home. And make sure he can’t hear me from his garage, which is far too close to the property line, now that I think about it.

  I don’t have to face Knox if I’m not technically here. Even if I am technically here.

  It suits me fine anyway, since there’s always more work for me to do.

  Upstairs is unbearably hot and stuffy. The heat releases forty years of smells from the carpet. There’s no way I can work in my fake bedroom. Instead, I grab my laptop and find the coolest room in the house.

  It’s the hideous kitchen, naturally. At least it gives me extra motivation to work, so I can earn enough money to have it ripped out.

  The first thing I do is check the comments on the F*ck Buddies video I posted yesterday. I still can’t believe I did something so rash. How embarrassing. I hope my viewers forgive me for it.

  I intend to capture all the comments, save them to my computer, and delete the video before anyone else has the chance to see it.

  Except there are only two comments:

  Ox Man: He doesn’t want a relationship either, go s
uck him off already. You know you’re gagging for it.

  And, underneath it, timestamped an hour later:

  Hung like a Donkey: What he said. Go get fucked u uptight bitch.

  Nice. I’d expected some troll stuff but I’d also expected more from my fans. Especially all my female viewers. Fine, maybe not many people saw it. Other than the seven hundred and eighty thousand views it’s showing.

  I click onto the other video I posted yesterday, my rant against Nathan, the Don’t be Annoying video.

  Hung like a Donkey: Ur more annoying than him

  Great, same troll again. I click into another video.

  Mel9424: Love you, you’ve brought so much joy to my life ;) ;)

  I smile, glad that I can help someone. There are a dozen more like it. My eyes keep scrolling down the screen, until I see a comment that sticks out at me.

  Hung like a Donkey: U don’t know what u r talking about

  Um, okay. It’s the same troll again, and my pulse increases.

  I click through my older videos. Hung like a Donkey has commented on every single video.

  Hung like a Donkey: U talk bullshit

  Hung like a Donkey: Ur already stupid but U need to be spanked

  Hung like a Donkey: Go get some so u know what you’re saying

  And on and on.

  All in the past day. Normally I can ignore trolls, but the fact this guy has commented on so many of my videos freaks me out. I report him to YouTube, but there’s not much else I can do.

  The second I’ve hit report abuse, I FaceTime Darla.

  “Check out my latest troll attack” I say the second she appears on my screen.

  Darla’s pale eyes flit across the screen as she clicks into her browser and through my videos.

  “What the what?” she says.

  “I know, right. I’ve reported it but it’s freaky that he’s posted on so many.”

  “Make sure you take screen shots of them all.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Some people have way too much fucking time on their hands,” she says.

  While she’s talking, I grab all of the comments before YouTube takes them down.

  The nice thing about living with Nathan, no matter how useless a man he was, was that when my videos were subject to a troll attack, it wasn’t just me in the house. Having him in bed beside me made me sleep a little easier.

  Now it’s just me and an oversized pillow for comfort.

  “How are you doing, anyway? Anything new?” I ask.

  “You mean do I have any more gossip on Nathan?” Darla winks twice at the webcam.

  “No, do not tell me anything about Nathan. I mean it. How are you?”

  “I’m great, babe. I found a new man. Well, if he’s old enough to be called a man yet.”

  “Please tell me he’s old enough to drink.” Is this to do with her turning thirty soon?

  “Of course, otherwise how boring would that be? He’s been old enough to drink for a whole year now.”

  “How does he know what he’s doing in bed? Doesn’t he come too fast?”

  “Oh hell no, I’m teaching him. That’s the fun. This boy doesn’t mind following instructions.”

  “How long has it been? You didn’t know him the last time we talked.”

  “He’s a fast learner. Let’s just say I’m molding him into my dream man.” Darla motions her hands, miming the perfect male shape. She starts wide at the top, descending into a vee shape. When her hands meet, she flips one over and mock grabs a crotch.

  I snort. “You’re bonkers.”

  “And you’re not? Had any more run-ins with Mr Hottie next door?”

  “Nope,” I say, turning my face so she can’t tell I’m lying.

  “Fine. Tell me Friday, since you’re holding out on me now.”

  “So anyway,” I hesitate, “I’m going to come to you and stay for the weekend.”

  “What? No way, I’m coming to see your new place.”

  “You absolutely are not coming here. I miss going to our old haunts, I’m coming to you.”

  “Not. Gonna. Happen. I need to see him in the flesh. If you come here, leave your keys under the mat. Because I’m staying at yours this weekend, with or without you.” It’s her don’t-mess-with-me voice. The one everyone knows means business. I’m sure her new boy toy is very familiar with it. If she says she’s coming, she’s coming. If I’m not here and don’t leave the key, she’ll sleep in her car in the driveway.

  “But…”

  “No buts. Don’t think you can run and hide from introducing me to your neighbor. Because I know that’s what you’re trying to do here.”

  Well she’s wrong about one thing, that’s definitely not what I’m trying to avoid. Unless it comes under the umbrella of avoiding all contact with Knox whatsoever.

  It’s not going to be possible to avoid him forever, is it?

  Ugh. The reality of the thought is a blow to my gut.

  But I can hide a little longer, give him time to forget. Make the situation a little less raw.

  Darla and I talk for a little longer, before saying our goodbyes.

  I throw myself back into my work, planning out the videos I’m going to shoot this week. I’ve got two product placements. Fortunately neither makes noises.

  My doorbell rings, and I sink down low against my kitchen table, even though I’m around the corner from the door, and there’s no way anyone could ever see me.

  “Avery,” Piper says through the door.

  I’m relieved it’s just her, but still don’t want to see her in case she tells Knox I’m not sick after all. There’s always a good chance of her inviting me over to their house for more pizza or dessert.

  She bangs on the door, though not with as much force as her father uses. Riddled with guilt, I freeze in place to stay silent.

  The letter slot snaps shut, and the house goes quiet again. I peek around the corner. A white envelope is on the floor.

  I retrieve the envelope and tear it open. It’s a homemade card, with a surprisingly good drawing of the two of us shopping together. Thank You is written in purple bubble letters across the front.

  Inside, written in purple pen, it says:

  Dear Avery,

  Thank you so much for taking me shopping. I had so much fun and it’s so nice to have pretty bras. I hope we get to do it again, I love hanging out with you.

  My dad says thank you, too. He said you’re super nice and funny, and how lucky we are that you live next door to us. He also said you can come for pizza another time.

  And that he thinks you’re really pretty.

  Piper xoxo

  My heart bursts. She’s so sweet. I actually had a lot of fun shopping with her. I wonder if it’s possible to hang out with her and have zero contact whatsoever with her father.

  Though I wonder why she’s telling me all the stuff he’s supposedly saying about me.

  Knox

  I haven’t seen Avery in days. It’s already Wednesday. She’s obviously scarred by my drilling comments. Except she posted the F*ck Buddies video after that conversation. Even though the video’s gone now.

  Did she change her mind about wanting a fuck buddy? I haven’t. As long as she agrees to the no-relationship part.

  Avery must feel like a sham, posting all these how to have sex videos online, when she doesn’t appear to be having any herself. No wonder she wants a fuck buddy. It’s not just for her body’s needs, she needs one for her job.

  I’d be doing her a huge service.

  On Monday, she didn’t answer her door, no matter how long I banged on it. Yesterday, she didn’t answer her door, no matter how much I tried to talk her out through her closed door and windows. It’s impressive that she’s kept all her windows shut so tight, since it’s been over eighty every day and I haven’t even worn a shirt all week.

  Today, I have a different tactic.

  I hear Avery’s front door shut, and jog to the front of her house. She probably t
hinks I’ve gone to pick up Piper from school, like I normally do. But not today, I asked her friend’s mom if she’d give her a drive home.

  “Hey,” I say, rounding the corner of her house. She’s on her driveway, wearing a flimsy sundress that I want to tear off her right this second. She must’ve been making a break for her car. I stride over to her.

  She looks at me like a deer in headlights, and a broad smile forms across my face.

  “Knox,” she says as I near her.

  “Thanks for taking Piper shopping.”

  “No problem, anytime. She’s a great kid. You’ve done a good job, considering her mother is in Africa. I mean, what she’s doing is noble, but her priority really should be her daughter.”

  Africa? What the fuck is Avery talking about? Focusing on my goal, I ignore the comment.

  “She’s a good kid,” I say.

  “Anyway, I’d better run,” she says, turning away.

  On reflex, I reach out and grab her upper arm to stop her from leaving, before she can go hide again. The second my hand touches her soft skin, a rush of something shoots from my hand all the way down to me feet.

  Judging from the way she looks to the sky and swallows, she felt it too.

  “I’ve never seen a guy here.”

  “Nope,” she says, and leaves her lips slightly parted.

  “I was joking around the other day about you not having a man around. But I mean it, if you need any help with anything, I’m here.” I release her arm.

  “Oh,” she says, and turns to face me. Our eyes meet, and the same rush blasts through me.

  “You know, anything at all,” I say, raising my eyebrows.

  Her nose twitches and her tensed shoulders drop.

  “Hear me out. I’m single, you’re single. We both have itches that need scratching. We both know you find me… Well, you know, the whole window thing.”

  Avery’s eyes widen and her cheeks turn red. She turns to flee again, and once again I grab her arm. Even though I’m touching her, we’re standing arms length apart.

  “Let me go.”

  “Just let me say what I want to say, then you can go hide from me in your house again.”

  Avery lets out a long groan, her other hand flying to her mouth to stop it.