by Emily Bishop
Once inside the pickup, I splayed my dress into the tiny back seat and stared straight ahead, unsure. Freddy gave a final wave to my father, muttering. “He’s an old crank, ain’t he?” He stabbed his foot upon the gas and blasted us toward the carnival, which had already begun stirring in the distance. Again, I pressed my lips together, tight, not wanting to speak to Freddy, yet knowing that I had to, in some way, perform for him.
As his truck moved toward town, he pointed at Eric’s house, sneering. “That guy, that creep, seems like he’s been run out of town? Ain’t seen him at school. Not gonna graduate, is he? Course I suppose white trash like him was never gonna graduate.”
“I hope he’s all right,” I whispered, allowing this sentiment to escape, and immediately regretting it.
Freddy and I sat in silence all the way to the carnival. As he parked his truck to the side, I spotted Cynthia and a few other cheerleaders bucking toward the performance area. Cynthia waved at us—at mostly Freddy, surely—and beckoned. Freddy scoffed at her, as well. “That little bright-eyed wonder. I bet she’ll be just as bright-eyed when she’s sucking Hank’s dick tonight.” He slipped his arm over my shoulders and allowed his fingers to tickle at my light skin. “Guess you’re pretty lucky to have me to yourself tonight, huh?”
I felt a shiver up and down my spine and jumped from the pickup, yanking my dress along with me. I gave Freddy a small nod and I swallowed harshly, feeling like a bird trapped in a cage. “I’ll see you after the performance. All right?” I told him, wondering if I could fake an injury, or pretend to get my period. Anything to get me out of this night.
As I walked toward the cheerleading squad, my legs light, the carnival stirred to life around me. The lights whirred, the sounds of the games clinked and booped. It was a reminder of being a child, of coming to the carnival hand-in-hand with my father and watching the senior cheerleaders perform. Cynthia leaped toward me, placing her hands on either side of my cheeks. Leaning toward me, she whispered, “Did you get a quickie in before coming?” while waggling her eyebrows. This stirred my stomach.
As we prepped for the performance, stretching out our long limbs, my eyes scanned the horizon as night descended around us. Already, half the town had arrived: children strapping themselves into strange, mechanical rides and blasting through the air, screeching, and mothers nibbling on cotton candy, letting their bodies go. Fathers seemed to leer at us, the cheerleaders, before our performance. Knowing that, while generating “town pride,” we would whip our legs through the air, showing a peek of something else.
My cheerleading coach, Micah, appeared between the hay bales surrounding the performance arena. She beckoned for me and stretched out a large smile showing bright white teeth, a reminder that she’d once been team captain, herself. “Olivia,” she said, tipping her nose into mine. “You know this is one of the biggest performances of your high school career. Before you know it, high school will be over. You won’t have all this. You’ll be just another person in this town,” she sighed.
My head stirring, heart still pumping with anxiety, I nodded. “We’ll give it all we got, coach,” I told her. But the words sounded cartoony.
“And look at you,” Micah sighed, tilting her head. Her brown eyes glittered with the lights from the carnival, making her look ghoulish. “You’re the prettiest girl at the ball. Dating the football captain. And in just a few weeks, you’ll walk across that stage. Become who you’re going to become. Damn, if I’m not jealous.”
I stirred, sweeping my eyes back toward the cheerleaders, who’d begun to line up in the center of the carnival for the performance. It was time. In the distance, someone was crying out at the top of the Ferris wheel, saying, “Let me down!” The voice was like a string.
“Okay. We have to get started, now,” Micah said, her words becoming more forceful. “Let’s do it.”
Feeling gazelle-like, aware of the length of my legs and arms, I swept toward the center of the girls. I smacked my hands together and hollered, “Five, six, seven, eight,” before starting the routine we’d done more than a hundred times, all told. Cynthia and the other eight seniors did backflips and front flips, while I whirled alongside them. We chanted as we jumped and bounced, our lungs stronger than any engine.
As we paused, mid-way through the routine, I blinked, dizzy, into the crowd. On cue, the music for our second number stirred from the speaker, pushing us into a hip hop routine. I began to cut to the right, as Cynthia cut the opposite way. Off to the side of the crowd, a tiny bright orange light snuck up, from a lighter. Behind it, I found a familiar face. A dark black beard, high cheekbones, penetrating eyes. Eric.
My heart fluttered in my chest, rising to my throat. I missed one cue, and then another, finding myself lost in a sea of emotion. Cynthia hissed at me, mid-mistake. “What the hell are you doing, Thames?”
But I didn’t care. I was on top of the world, electric, buzzing with the fact that Eric—Eric had reappeared in my life. And I felt sure that he was here to claim me. To tell me that we were being idiots, not aligning ourselves together. I bounded through the rest of the routine, stretching my arms into the air on the final cue. Blinking into the applause, I watched as the entire town bounced up and down, cheering. But I only had eyes for Eric.
I didn’t wait. Seconds after the music cut, as the crowd continued to roar, I bounded through, sliding among townsfolk, to find myself in front of Eric. Broad-shouldered, his eyebrows dropping just above his eyes, casting shadows across his cheeks, he looked dark, brooding. Entirely unlike anyone else at the carnival. I’d known, my entire life, that he’d been different. That he’d held a fire within him that couldn’t be matched.
He dropped the cigarette between us, on the ground, and stirred at it with his foot. Without speaking, he reached for my hand and led me out of the crowd, away from the watchful eyes of Freddy. Across the crowd, I knew he couldn’t fight through to find me fast enough. That if Eric and I fled fast, with light steps, we could retreat.
“Hurry! Hurry!” I whispered to Eric, as we slid out from the crowd and toward the line of cars beyond. One of them was his father’s—a little beat-up Chevrolet Isaac had crashed more times than I could count. The rubble of the vehicle littered the edge of our yard and his. Yet, before I knew it, Eric had me pressed up against the side of the car, his hands on my shoulders.
He breathed roughly, as if he’d been moving very quickly. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and his eyes stirred left and right, gazing deeply into mine. I wondered if he would speak first. If we would bother with saying all the things we’d never managed to say.
“Olivia,” he whispered finally. Far beyond him, the cheerleaders continued to bop up and down, waving their pom poms. I prayed that Freddy couldn’t see us in the darkness of the parking lot. I so wanted to be invisible with Eric, as we’d always been.
“Eric?” I said back, feeling my eyes fill with tears.
Eric’s fingers traced up my neck, toward my ear. He brought his hand along my hair, sweeping it across my shoulders, before making a small, sensual circle along the fabric of my cheerleader uniform, near my nipple. I allowed a small moan to escape my lips.
“I’ve always wanted this,” I told him. Wetness stirred between my legs.
With a volatile motion, Eric placed his hand between my legs and pushed them apart. His fingers licked around the top of my cheerleader underwear, stretching beneath, across the tender skin. It was skin no one had touched before. I blinked up at him, lost in the chaos of his dark eyes, as he slipped his first finger inside me. He found the wetness immediately. I sensed it in his eyes when he felt it. They glittered and then closed, and he brought his tongue out from between his lips. Unable to resist me a moment more, he pressed his lips against mine and kissed me. Somehow, this was more passionate, more intimate than the touch at my clit. It made my heart feel squeezed behind my ribcage. Love. This was what they’d talked about. What they’d told me it would be.
Seconds later, he whi
pped open the car door and knelt me into the back. He stripped my cheerleader skirt from off my thin legs, inhaling the scent of my pussy. It filled the car. My eyes turned toward the bulge at his black jeans, thick and heaving. Leaning forward, I undid his belt and pushed his pants from his legs, revealing this thick, throbbing cock. Cock. I had never articulated this word before. Hadn’t understood it. Hadn’t known just how it would make my heart beat crazy and bring another wave of heat to my pussy. My eyes shimmered toward his, finding my own emotions reflected back.
“Are you sure about this?” he whispered to me, his words so tender. I’d been hearing those words all my life.
I nodded, tipping my nose against his. “I am sure,” I murmured back.
He moved forward and brought his cock against the opening of my pussy. I’d heard from many cheerleaders that the first time hurt a lot. That it stretched you out, made you bleed. But as I brought my feet up and around his muscled body, leaving room for him, I felt that, instead, I was being filled. His cock rippled into me, finding space, until I felt the end of him against me. Blinking up, I brought a soft smile on my face. So this was it. This was sex.
But I was wrong. An animal instinct overtook him. His eyes burned with passion, lust, and he began to fuck me—really fuck me—with ferocity, with life. He brought his hands to the edge of the car for balance and lifted the length of his cock out of me, watching as his dick shone brightly with my wetness. And then, just when I thought he’d hold back for good, he thrust himself forward, back into me. I moaned, his chest against my tits. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a thousand different emotions exploded. Sweat billowed down my armpits and between my tits. As he pressed his cock deep inside me on another thrust, he turned his tongue to my tits and wrapped it around and around the darkness of my nipples, making them perky and hard.
I wanted to say things to him. To verbalize “dirty” talk, like I’d heard the girls joke about in the cheerleading locker room. But instead, I held my tongue, watching as his animal instinct fell away. After several minutes, he began to recognize me again. I strummed my fingers through his hair, pulling at it lightly. With a firm finger, he pressed at my clit, moving upward and bringing my legs over his shoulders. As he pressed his finger harder and harder against that nub, he thrust into me. Over and over. I turned my hands across my tits, loving the pain that ignited within me as I pinched my nipples. I felt like I was cresting the wave. That I was falling into another one, just after…
He pressed his cock deeper than before and my body tightened up, tensed. I was alive for him, pussy pulsing, coming harder than I ever had before on my own.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” I wrapped my legs around him tight, held on for all I was worth.
But as my moans escaped my lips, I watched as his own eyes widened. After a final thrust, I felt him come inside me. Gasping, his motions violent, he fell into me. His chin found refuge on the top of my shoulder, and my arms wrapped around his sweating, muscular shoulders.
It was done.
I felt as if every cell on my body had ignited with electricity. This was what they’d whispered about for thousands of years. This was the great “adult” secret. And I wanted to do it with Eric until I was old and gray. Forever.
Chapter 20
Eric
Twelve Years Earlier
“Come away with me. Tonight.” I heard the words escape my lips, as we huddled against the edge of my dad’s truck. Olivia snuck her cheerleader skirt up over her waist, gazing at me with these big, hopeful eyes. My body ached with need for another round with her. My fingers were hungry to slither up and down her thighs, that porcelain skin, finding refuge in the heat and wet between her legs. I’d never felt anything like that before. That final thrust had cast me deep into another world of emotion, making me forget I’d ever been a hillbilly. That I’d ever been beat. That I’d ever felt like nothing. With Olivia, our bodies locked together, I could be so much more.
“We have one more routine,” Olivia said, chuckling as she snuck the last of her shirt over her head, hiding her tits. “One more, and then I’ll come find you, okay?”
“What does it matter if you do one more routine? We’re out of this town,” I told her, bringing my lips against her nose and kissing it, so tender. “We’re going to go build a better life somewhere else. Far away from what your dad wants for you. And a million miles from old Isaac…”
“But silly,” Olivia tittered. “You know I have to get that diploma, don’t you? Otherwise, well, I won’t be able to get into college and build a fortune for us.”
“Oh, so you’re the breadwinner now?” I asked her, teasing. Again, I kissed the tip of her nose, then the top of her lips, hungry to dive back into her. But I sensed she was right. Far beyond, near the performance arena, I could already hear the cheerleaders begin their raucous crying. They were waiting for Olivia, their fearless leader.
Olivia’s eyes darted toward the carnival. They reflected back the Ferris wheel, stirring into the stars. Her hair was mussed from sex, curling down her chest. I felt sure her smile would never falter.
“Why didn’t we ever do that before?” she whispered to me, kissing me again. “We’ve been stupid. Avoiding it. When it was always going to happen.”
“What are you going to tell Freddy?” I asked her, between dotting kisses. My hands cut around her waist, holding onto her tight and feeling the weight of each heartbeat rippling up and down her spine.
“That asshole? I’m going to avoid him until he gets the hint,” Olivia said. “Find me after the routine. I’ll put on my dress and we can run off and dance in some field somewhere, far away from here. And do THAT all over again.”
It was a deal. I watched her slip through the line of cars, her cheerleader skirt bouncing as she walked. With the routine ability of any teenager, she threw her hair into a ponytail as she scampered, before falling in line with the other cheerleaders. As I approached, I tapped a cigarette between my lips. I remembered all the old movies, the post-fucking cigarette, and snickered to myself, feeling a part of some greater adult club.
About ten feet away from the crowd, I watched as Olivia smacked her hands together, her face holding the happiness of our secret. One of the girls whirled my Olivia through the air, forcing her to flip before she landed on her feet again. It seemed not to faze her. I puffed at my cigarette and billowed the smoke over the crowd, feeling like a puppet master.
The thrust, the fist, came from the right. I yanked to the side, feeling my cigarette nearly fall from my lips. Freddy and Hank stood before me, bulky, blocking the lights from the carnival. Freddy was maybe an inch or two taller than I was, with a large, block-like skull. Could almost see the stirring of the mechanics of his idiot mind, putting him through the ringer.
“What the hell were you doing with my date, asshole?” he spewed.
A wave of rage came over me, latching onto my tongue. “What makes you think you own her?”
Freddy stepped forward, clicking his head to the side. “What about ‘my date’ don’t you understand?”
To match him, I took a step toward him. There was about six inches between our feet now, and I inhaled the stench of his half-tobacco, half-peppermint breath. Goodie two-shoes football player, smoking cigarettes out back? Still, my own cigarette hung between my lips, and I huffed smoke out of my nose, grinning at him. After making love to Olivia, I felt sure that nothing could knock me down. That nothing could rip into me. I had won.
But Freddy shoved me again, pushing me toward the edge of the Ferris wheel, where the carnival staff kept the carnival equipment. Pools of oil gleamed on either side, sifting between the rocks and gravel. The smell filled my nostrils. It was poison. But none of the carnival workers had noticed—all of them bouncing off their own minds on one drug or another, pressing the carnival ride buttons or else ogling the cheerleading outfits.
I lifted my fists, adrenaline pumping. Freddy licked at his lips, making them shine, while Hank shifted behind him, almo
st like his second.
“What the hell are you going to do over here, Freddy?” I asked him. “Are you going to kill me? Would that do well for your town image, huh? Wouldn’t be the golden boy then, would you?”
“On the contrary,” Freddy said, his voice almost a croak. “I think taking you out would make me into the town hero. Picture it in the papers, Holzman.” He flashed his hands through the air, articulating. “Local Hero Takes out the Trash, Marries Cheerleading Captain, Saves Town.”
I scoffed at him, shaking my cigarette toward his face. “As if she would ever agree to marry you, you bastard. She’s going to become something someday, while you stay here, getting fatter and older and sadder—”
But as I spoke, Freddy swung his fist toward me and knocked my cigarette out of my hand. It swept through the air before falling directly into a strange, greenish pool of gasoline and oil. Immediately, it ignited, creating distance between Freddy and I. The fire licked up against the tent before latching onto another pool of oil closer to the cheerleader performance. The crowd’s faces turned, fiery and bright, their smiles transforming. Their screeches echoed out across the carnival, as the fire drew closer.
It was incredible how quickly it burned through the oil, then catching the tents and the hay bales closer to the performance. The smoke was thick, black, leaving me only a small window to see Freddy’s face. He cast his demonic, toothy smile toward me, his eyes so certain. “You know what you’ve done now, Eric, don’t you?” he cried, smacking his hands together.
