Getting Schooled (The Wright Brothers Book 1)

by Jones, Christina C

  We swung by my place first, so I could get my car, and get what I needed for an overnight stay. Back at his house, I showered and climbed straight into his bed. I snuggled deep under the covers with my fingers tracing the edges of the engraved nameplate on my necklace while I watched him put the finishing touches on a paper that was due in my mother’s class tomorrow.

  “Hey princess,” he called, and I looked up, meeting his eyes. “Can you tell me if something sounds right to you?”

  I nodded, then sat up a little further. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Aiight. So… There’s no point in this work where the reader is allowed to be comfortable – and that feels purposeful. Givens draws you out of your comfort zone with elegant prose, and then plunges you into grief right along with the unnamed main character as she navigates the impact of her sister’s drug addiction on her own life.

  Tee, the sister, gets a name. By leaving herself unidentified, the narrator leaves us with a sense that she’s distancing herself from the story, even though she clearly plays a part. But I don’t believe this is the only reason she allows herself to remain unnamed. Through various points in the story, it is clear that the narrator isn’t simply relaying the message.

  She’s in the room.

  The night Tee sneaks out of the bungalow and runs into the Street Kings, the night the father sneaks into the bed, Tee’s suicide attempt. The details are too vivid, the picture painted a little too clearly, for these to be secondhand accounts. There’s a level of guilt hanging in every one of these words, begging the question of if the narrator’s role in Tee’s ruin is more than she lets on. Maybe she leaves herself unnamed because she doesn’t feel she deserves one in Tee’s story.”

  I was completely enthralled.

  For those moments while he was reading out loud from his paper, I was wrapped up, remembering the very first of his words I’d read. This was no different – insightful commentary that was leaps and bounds better than a good three-quarters of the class. I knew because I’d read most of their first drafts.

  “That sounds really good,” I said, sitting up. I was in one of his army tee shirts that I’d commandeered as my own after my shower, and I tucked it between my legs, concealing my nudity underneath. “Only a few people mentioned the narrator feeling guilty, which is actually a huge theme through this story, that not many seem to easily pick up on. So, I can tell you now that you’ll definitely get points for that. Mama will be impressed.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “She’s not going to think you coached me on that, is she?”

  “Hell no. My mother knows me well enough to know I’d be turned right off by needing to coach you through this. You’ve been one of the strongest students from jump. She’ll recognize your work when she sees it.”

  He nodded, then looked back at his laptop and let out a breath. “Yeah… I’ve got some stuff in here about the jealousy between the sisters, the abuse, the beating, all of that. How it led to Tee’s addiction. A speculation that the narrator may have indulged in a little “white horse” herself, based on some of those erratic passages. I think I covered everything I need to.”

  “I think so too,” I agreed. “Your draft was really good, and it sounds like you’ve made it even better, so… I don’t think you have anything to worry about. But, you obviously are.”

  He grinned, swiping a hand over his head. “Yeah, I am. This paper is weighted heavier than all the others this semester, and after that low B on the first one, I need this shit to hit hard.”

  “And it will,” I laughed. “Don’t stress it. And don’t tell anybody I told you this, but… at the end of the semester, she offers a chance to improve the grade on your lowest-scored assignment. You’ll get a chance to pull it up – if you even need it.”

  “Yo, are you serious?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Yes. Why would I make something like that up?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, I have to ask with you. You know you like to sneak-attack. As a matter of fact… Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you today? You haven’t made any slick comments, no insults, nothing. What’s up?”

  My hands went up to my necklace. “Just… a weird feeling, after this morning. Thinking my necklace was gone really messed with my head.”

  And then that accident, I thought, but didn’t say out loud. I didn’t want to be dramatic, and still being shaken up about the necklace was bad enough. Jason closed his laptop and then came to the bed, leaning to give me a soft kiss against the lips.

  “Well lets go to sleep them. Maybe tomorrow’ll be better.”

  I nodded, then flopped back on the pillows as he left the room to get into the shower. I was half-asleep when he came back to bed, sliding under the covers with me and pulling me close. The warm comfort of his arms made it easy to drift off, into a deep sleep. But I was drawn from it suddenly, violently, by a loud, booming, rumble of thunder.

  I sat up, realizing that my forehead was soaked in cold sweat. I extricated myself from Jason’s hold around my waist, trying not to wake him. As soon as my feet hit the cold hardwood floor, unwelcome memories rushed to my mind. The screech of tires, screaming, the helpless limbo as the car spun out of control, and then, the sickening crunch of crushed metal and shattered glass.

  I sucked in a breath, trying to bring the air back to my lungs, but it didn’t feel like it was working. A flash of lightning, another monstrous peal of thunder brought back the merciless squeal of the wiper blades on the windshield, trying valiantly to keep the window clear. My father, cursing. Not because I’d called him to come and get me, because of the weather. Because of the storm that had cropped up out of nowhere.

  I made my way out of Jason’s bedroom on shaky legs, still struggling to breathe. It seemed like the harder I tried, the more my lungs constricted, the more nausea ripped through me. I looked around, frowning at my unfamiliar surroundings, and sank to my knees as my heart thumped erratically in my chest. Another roar of thunder, and I covered my ears, trying not to scream as heavy rain beat down on the house.

  My eyes closed, but immediately wrenched them back open, shaking my head. I was back in that seat, back in that concrete drain, screaming for help, not for me, for him, and—

  “Reese?!” I flinched as a hand came down on my shoulder, but didn’t look up. Suddenly Jason’s arms were around me, enveloping me in warmth. “You’re having a panic attack. You’re okay. Just breathe. Breathe, princess, breathe,” he murmured in my ear, over and over, as his hands made soothing circles on my back.

  I don’t know how long he stayed with me like that, but eventually, I came back down. My breathing leveled, heart stopped racing, nausea dissipated. Little by little, I was able to calm down.

  “Talk to me about what’s going on with you,” he insisted, but I shook my head.

  “I’m exhausted, and we have class, and it’s late. We can talk about it another time. Not tonight, please.”

  Jason let out a little sigh, but didn’t push it. Once we were back in his bed, I snuggled close and cautiously closed my eyes, hoping to only see blackness. That hope was fulfilled – my desire for sleep was not. Jason managed to drift off, but I tossed and turned, shaken out of my calm by every clap of thunder or jolt of lightning. Instead of soothing, the sound of the rain was like nails on chalkboard tonight, grating to my ears.

  “Have you talked to anybody aboutt this before?”

  I flinched at the sound of Jason’s drowsy voice in my ear. I hadn’t realized he wasn’t still asleep.

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding in the dark. “It hasn’t happened in a really long time, but yeah… I talked to somebody. They gave me ways to cope, ways to get to sleep.”

  Jason grunted. “You definitely need some sleep. You’ve been tossing for hours. Is there something I can do?”

  “Not really. If I was home, I’d probably take some melatonin, and I have tea.”

  He sat up. “Give me your keys. I’ll go—”

  “Hell no!” I exclaimed, s
itting up with him, blindly feeling for his arm. “You can’t go out there in that.”

  “It’s just rain, why—”

  “Because it’s not just rain! You can’t go out in that storm, not for me. What if you… no. Just no, okay? Please?”

  Jason pulled away from me, and then suddenly the lamp was on, and his eyes were filled with concern as they scanned my face. “Reese… what aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t do that shit right now.” He hadn’t snapped at me, but his voice was firm as I looked away. “Just tell me.”

  I swallowed hard, closing my eyes as they welled up with tears. “I was in the car with him. I… was so stupid. Dating this guy who slipped something in my drink one night. But I knew as soon as I tasted it that something was off. I locked myself in a bathroom, called my dad to come and get me, and he did. I was the only one there once he got to house, boyfriend was gone. My dad was driving me home, back to my mom’s when the storm started. Somebody hit us on the driver’s side, so hard that the car rolled into one of those drainage ditch things.”

  Jason’s face fell as he reached for me, pulling me against his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

  I sniffed, hard. “I know I’m not supposed to think this, but he’d still be here if it wasn’t for me. I walked away without a scratch, and he—”

  “Shut up,” he rumbled softly in my ear. “I’m not gonna sit here and listen to you blame yourself for that. You did what you were supposed to do, call your father to get you out of a situation like that. It was not your fault that there was a car accident.”

  “I know. I know. But sometimes it really, really feels like it.”

  He drew me a little closer, holding me tight while I cried quiet tears. After a while, they subsided, and I buried my face against his chest.

  “I’m not usually like this, I promise,” I mumbled, my voice muffled against his skin. “The thing with the necklace, and then hearing that accident earlier, and the storm… It was just a tough day for me. I’m sorry.”

  He chuckled, then kissed my forehead. “You don’t have to apologize for showing a little vulnerability, especially about something like this. Hell, I’m glad to see it. Reminds me that you aren’t as Teflon-coated as you pretend to be.”

  “You trying to say I’m not tough?”

  “That’s not at all what I’m saying.” I smiled as he used the pads of his thumbs to swipe tears from my face. ”You’re the toughest princess I know.”

  “Why do you call me that?”

  “What?”

  “Princess.”

  Jason groaned, and then laid back. “I mean… that was my first impression of you. Sitting in front of the class, not saying anything to anybody except the professor, with this sophisticated look on your face. Clothes, jewelry, shoes, always perfect. You already seemed to have that bougie vibe, and then we bumped into each other, and your reaction just sealed it in.”

  “My reaction?” I lifted an eyebrow, confused.

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. You wrinkled that cute little nose when you saw my shirt, and immediately checked to make sure the dirty mechanic hadn’t gotten anything on you.”

  “Oh my God!” I exclaimed, shaking my head. “It wasn’t even like that! I mean, yes, I saw your shirt, and thought about motor oil, but it wasn’t on some “ewww, dirty mechanic” thing. More like, “goddamnit, I knew I shouldn’t have worn white, why the hell do I keep bumping into people today”. Earlier that day, at lunch, I almost came to blows with this white boy dripping ketchup everywhere. I’ll admit to some bougie, but I’m not that much of a snob. I was paranoid about my shirt.”

  Jason chuckled. “See? Princessy.”

  I sucked my teeth, and then reached over him to turn off the light. “Whatever,” I grumbled, and he grabbed me around the waist, pulling me on top of him.

  “Hey… you okay?”

  Even though he couldn’t see me, I smiled, and pressed my lips to his. “Yeah. I’m okay.” I let out a soft, inaudible sigh, thinking about how that might not have been the case if I were at home by myself. Yeah, I’d dealt with the panic attacks before. Enough in the first few years after the accident to be somewhat used to them, even if it had been a while. I’d talked to therapists, who wrote down stuff like PTSD, and depression on their little pads. I’d gone through bottles and bottles of mood stabilizers, anxiety and depression meds before I got back to a reasonably good place.

  I knew the anniversary of his death was a hard time, so I could prepare myself, know that I needed to stick close to the bed, use natural remedies to cope. Melatonin and tea, maybe some drinking, anything to avoid the stuff that made me feel like a zombie after. Tonight had caught me way off guard.

  “You think you’re gonna be able to sleep?”

  “Probably not. But I still don’t want you to go out.”

  “Reese, you need to get some sle—”

  I kissed him first, stopping his protest. “No,” I murmured, gently nibbling at his bottom lip before I traced it with my tongue. I dipped my head, kissing his stubbled jaw, down to his neck. My hands drifted up over his chest, up to his ears, gently pulling and tugging.

  He chuckled, trying to move his head away. “Don’t try to distract me, woman.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, giggling as he flipped us over to rest on top of me. A contented sigh escaped my lips at the pleasant weight of his body on top of mine. I brought my hands up to his shoulders, resting them at the base of his neck as he lowered his lips to meet mine.

  His kisses were gentle at first – soft, barely there. Little by little, the pressure increased, my lips parted, and our tongues met. Hands moved lower, gripping and squeezing and kneading my ass cheeks, pulling me against his growing erection.

  I gasped a little as his hands moved under my shirt to cup my breasts. He tugged the soft fabric upward, exposing my breasts before he dove in, licking and sucking my nipples into hard peaks that he teased with his fingers as he kissed his way down.

  Pressure was already building in my core by the time he eased my legs apart. He ran his tongue along the inside of my leg on one side, kissed the bare juncture of my thighs, and then licked his way down the other side. He peppered the insides of my thighs with kisses, nibbled the crease of my butt cheeks, building anticipation and making me wetter. I was squirming underneath his touch, anxious, ready to beg him to stop teasing when he pressed his whole tongue to me in a broad, slow lick, and then closed his mouth over me.

  I nearly came right then.

  My fingers raked over his scalp, and a high-pitched moan escaped my throat as he lapped at me with his tongue. He perched my legs over his shoulders, burying his face between my thighs as he dipped his tongue in me, making slurping noises that sent a thrill of pleasure up my spine. Suddenly, he pushed my legs up higher, knees to chest, opening me up wider, noisily devouring me like I was the best thing he’d ever tasted. His mouth was everywhere on my slick flesh, sucking my lips, kissing, nibbling, licking me until my thighs began to tremble.

  I tried to ease back, to calm my racing heart, quiet my yelps and moans of pleasure, but it was pointless with his arms locked around my thighs, holding me in place. He licked me – savored me – until an orgasm wracked my body, leaving me trembling with joy.

  Faintly, I heard him open the drawer beside the bed, and then he was between my legs again. His mouth came down to mine as he parted my thighs, sinking into me with a confident stroke that made me gasp. He plunged his tongue into my mouth as he began to stroke, giving me a sex-laced kiss that made me dizzy with passion. His tongue against mine, exploring, caressing, getting me high on him, if I wasn’t already.

  Something about being enveloped in nearly complete darkness made everything else more… intense. The sensually wet sound of flesh on flesh, his fingertips on my ass as he gripped and squeezed. His hot mouth on my neck, his breath in my ear as he growled about how good I felt around him.

  For a wh
ile, his strokes were slow, measured, but eventually they picked up steam, until he was driving into me with deep, blissful strokes that made it hard to breathe. I hooked my legs around his waist, opening for him to get deeper, and digging my nails into his back when he did. His mouth went to my neck, sucking and biting as he burrowed himself deep, grinding into me. My eyes stung with tears of pleasure as I pressed my face to his shoulder, trying not to scream as he began driving into me again, with fast paced strokes that made me feel like I was right on the edge of combusting.

  And then I did.

  Jason’s mouth crashed onto mine as I came, swallowing my scream of ecstasy. He slammed into me one last time a few moments later, groaning as he locked his arms around my waist, holding me tight against him.

  Sleep came for me quickly after that. I felt Jason leave the bed to get rid of the condom, clean himself up, and then come back with a towel for me before he climbed back into the bed. I was barely conscious as he moved the warm terry cloth over my skin, more gentle than I would’ve been with myself, but I smiled. Who would have thought that our literally running into each three months ago would lead to this? Me, falling asleep against a man who so obviously cared for me.

  I used the last bit of energy I had and turned to him, snuggling close against his chest.

  “Hey,” I murmured, with my eyes already closed. “Thought you only did that for people who “belonged” to you.”

  “What?” he grunted back.

  Our conversation in my mother’s office seemed so long ago, but it flashed in my mind. “The other stuff is reserved for someone who belongs to me. You trying to belong to me?” We liked each other, had had a lot of sex in the month since we started dating, but both agreed that oral sex was a whole other level of intimacy.

  “You ate the cookies.”

  I smiled at the warm rumble in his chest as he laughed at that, and then moved a hand down to squeeze my ass. “I guess I did, huh?”