Eighteen (18)

by J. A. Huss

  Economics is boring. And then it’s lunch. I wander over to the wall where Sunday and his friends sit and I come in on the middle of a conversation about me.

  “What?” I ask Rocky.

  “I was just telling them how you went off on the counselors the other day.”

  “Jesus, that’s old news, guys. And way less interesting than it sounds.”

  “You’re just a tough chick, Shannon,” Rocky says.

  She goes on and on about it for several more minutes and when she gets to the end, I realize Sunday never told her about my almost-breakdown. I look over at him and he’s smirking, a crooked smile that lights up his dark eyes. “Wanna ham sandwich?” he asks me, holding one out. “They’re the only edible thing on the menu.”

  I take it. “Thanks.” I’m starving. He looks pleased as I eat in silence, just listening to the chatter of his friends.

  But he never brings up our conversation or the fact that I said I won’t take rides from him anymore. I’m impressed with that, actually. Most guys would be all, Fuck you, bitch. You know? I’ve had my share of boyfriends. I’ve had my share of choices too. And no matter who you choose, there is always someone unhappy with you about it.

  But he’s not unhappy. Or if he is, he hides it very well. He takes it all in stride. Like he’s got some secret. Something in his back pocket that will change my mind. Like all he has to do is bide his time.

  And it’s a smart move. Because I do like him. And how practical is Mateo as a real boyfriend? What could we possibly have in common?

  Sex.

  I almost blush when the word manifests in my mind.

  I don’t know why he makes me so turned on, but just thinking of him right now is enough to make me want it.

  “Why are you blushing?”

  I look up from my thoughts and realize everyone is getting up to go to their next class. “Um…” I laugh.

  “You’re thinking about me, huh?”

  “A little bit,” I confess. “I’m curious about why you’re so nice to me, actually.”

  Sunday grabs my backpack and motions for me to walk with him.

  I do. He’s got my pack, right?

  “I’m nice to everyone I like.”

  “Oh.” I chuckle a little under my breath.

  “You’re pretty,” he says, shooting me a sideways look. “And smart. AP classes. I got a lot of details about you when we were sitting in the counseling office.”

  “Yeah, that kinda sucks. No privacy.”

  “Well,” he says, veering off into the main building where my English class is next period. “You handled it well. Aside from the three fucks.”

  I laugh out loud at that one. “Bowman should’ve suspended me. I was expecting it, actually.”

  “He didn’t because he likes you too.”

  “Right.”

  “Nah, really. I watched him when you were talking about your geometry class. He was fascinated. Like you’re his dream student and he can shove you into being a productive adult if he can just get you through second semester senior year.”

  “He’s nosy. He read my file. He knows about my sister. My situation.”

  “What is your situation?” We stop outside my classroom and Sunday leans on a locker. And for some reason I don’t get the feeling that he’s being nosy.

  “My sister died right after she gave birth to my niece. I live with my brother-in-law and the baby right now.”

  “He’s the one who hit you.” It’s not a question.

  “I got him back, so don’t worry about me. Sometimes you just need to have a who’s-in-charge fight, ya know?”

  He stares at me. His smile is gone. “No, Shannon. I don’t know. I’ve had my share of fist fights, but I’ve never had them with the people I live with.”

  “You’re lucky, I guess.”

  “I guess I am.”

  I don’t know what to say after that, so I just look down at my Chucks.

  “I’ll take you to school if you want. I mean, after-school school.”

  I should say yes. Everything inside of me wants to say yes. But it’s not fair to him. “Nah, my brother-in-law is gonna take me. Make up for the other night. And buy me dinner,” I add, to sweeten the story.

  Sunday hands my pack over and I take it. “OK,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch then.”

  “Yeah, lunch is my new favorite.”

  He shoots me one of those amazing smiles, and with something that looks a little bit like reluctance, walks off.

  The rest of my day goes by fast. You know how it goes—you don’t have a ride to night school and you’re wishing the day could be longer so you can figure it out. But no. Two-thirty comes way too fast and after I go to my locker and get what I need for tonight, I have to face the fact that it’s the bus or it’s walking.

  And I can’t stand at the bus stop in front of school, because Sunday hangs out at the arcade across the street. So I walk home and sit on the couch until four when I have to decide.

  What if I don’t go? Will Mateo come here looking for me?

  I don’t want that. I was lucky Jason didn’t come home and find us out on the patio last night. I really don’t need any more drama.

  So I walk back up to Lincoln and catch the bus a few blocks down from school.

  I hate my life the whole twenty-minute ride down to Gilbert. I should not have to take the bus to night school. I should not even have to go to night school. Everything is unfair.

  I tuck my pity party away when I get to school, but when I pull on the door to go inside, it’s locked.

  I look around for Mateo’s car or bike, but the lot is empty.

  I will cut a bitch if I just hauled myself over here for no reason. I swear to God, I will—

  The loud roar of a bike cuts me off and even though I don’t want to feel the wetness between my legs, there it is.

  I throb for him.

  He pulls up next to me and pulls a helmet out of one of his side packs. “Get on,” he says, revving the engine.

  “Where are we going?”

  He ignores me. Stares straight ahead.

  “Fucking fine,” I sigh. I push the helmet onto my head, swing my legs over the seat, and scoot up next to his back.

  Throb for him.

  “Scoot closer,” he says over his shoulder.

  I can feel the muscles in his back through his t-shirt because he has no jacket on. It was hot today and typically I’d be bitching about eighty-degree weather in January. But those muscles under his shirt change my mind. I press my head into his back and smell him as we take off.

  Chapter Fourteen

  We end up at his house, which is indeed less than two hundred yards from my own apartment. I take off the helmet and hand it over to his waiting hands, watching as he tucks it back into the packs. “Why didn’t you just text me and tell me to come here? I took the bus over to Gilbert.”

  He looks at me with something that might be curiosity. “To see how you’d manage to get to school without your friend’s ride.”

  “Asshole. You could’ve saved me an hour of time.”

  “Bygones, Shannon.”

  I screw up my face at him. “What?”

  “Just let it go. You’re here now.”

  Here is a small bungalow, typical of old-town Anaheim. One story, possibly an attic, with those thick columns on either side of the front porch. We’re not in front, which is good. I don’t need any nosy neighbors seeing me here with him. We’re in the back where he’s got a huge five-car garage.

  I’m not kidding, five cars. That garage has to be twice the size of the house. “What’s with the massive garage?” I ask.

  “Cars,” he says.

  OK, asshole. Remind me again why I’m with him and not Sunday?

  I follow him up the back steps and he holds the door open for me, waving me forward.

  He grabs my ass and squeezes hard as I walk past.

  I throb. And gasp. But mostly throb.

  T
hat’s why, Shannon. He’s gonna fuck me. But then… “Hey, you said I could watch you jerk off in the classroom.”

  That makes him smile. I like the smile. He likes me dirty, I realize. Dirty makes him smile. “We can do that tomorrow when you have to go for science. But until you finish all those tests you spoke so highly of at our first meeting, we meet here at three o’clock on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. And if you’re a bad girl, Saturdays and Sundays too.”

  “I can’t on Saturdays. I told my brother-in-law I’d babysit for him while he works during the day.”

  “Ah,” he says, turning to the fridge to grab two beers. “Well, we better make the most of the days we have then, right?” He hands me a beer and I take it. “But don’t think we won’t be fucking in the classroom too.”

  “Is that the only thing you want from me?” It comes out with a sneer.

  “Nope,” he says, popping the top of his beer off using the counter. He takes mine, does the same, and hands it back. “But it’s definitely up there at number one.”

  “Why? You like the idea of getting caught?”

  “No, Shannon, I like the possibility of getting caught. Fucking you here will be wild and fun. But fucking you there will be erotic. Taboo. Do you like taboo sex?”

  “I’m not really sure what that means.” I laugh, taking a drink of my beer to hide my blush.

  He lifts me up and sets me on the counter, spreading my legs and moving in between them. “Forbidden relationships, Shannon. Like this one.”

  “Hmm, but it’s not really all that dangerous for me, though. That’s what you said last night.”

  “Who cares? You’re not even into it yet. I am. So I’m the one who needs the thrill.”

  Jesus. I am not used to twenty-eight-year-old guys. They just say whatever the fuck they want. I’m used to Sundays. Although he’s sweeter than I’m used to as well.

  “You better be thinking about me,” Mateo says. His hands are on my thighs, rubbing them softly.

  I’m definitely thinking about him.

  “And don’t worry. If sucking my dick in the classroom isn’t enough to thrill you, I’ll think up something that will.”

  My mouth makes this little O shape. I exhale as I picture me on my knees in front of his chair in the classroom, my lips wrapped around his thick cock.

  “That do it for you?”

  I nod. I cannot wait.

  “Well, good.” And then he turns around, grabs a red book off the table, and plops it down on the counter next to me.

  “What’s that?”

  “Your homework. You like tests? You want to pass this class with tests? I got your book changed. They use this one for the self-paced trig class at Fullerton College. So it will transfer.”

  I shake my head a little. The switch from sucking him off in the classroom to trig throws me back.

  “What?” he asks, a smile creeping out. “You thought I was gonna pass you for sucking my cock? Please. You gotta earn everything with me, Shannon.”

  “OK, I’m just surprised by the subject change.” But what else is new. Everything about him is a surprise.

  “So here’s the deal. You do one test each time we’re together and then I fuck your brains out.”

  “Hand it over.” I laugh.

  “Ah, but there’s a catch. You gotta pass the test too.”

  “Dammit. I can’t just pass a test in trig.”

  “They typically only have a few questions.”

  “Yeah, but those questions will take forever to work out.”

  “Well, since you’re a beginner, I’ll cut you some slack for the first week. Every time you take a test, I’ll let you suck my dick.”

  “Oh, my God.” He’s crazy.

  “If you get one question right, I’ll lick your pussy.” He whispers that last part in my ear and I’m really going to need new underwear.

  I take a deep breath. “What if I get two right?”

  “Nah, it’s not that easy, grasshopper. Every time we meet and you take a test, you suck my dick. Every time you get one right, I lick your pussy. If you don’t pass the test, you don’t get fucked. But maybe I’ll let you rub one out in front of me to hold you over until next time.”

  I throb. I need that cock. I mean, if I didn’t have to be so close to him, I could do without. But I will die if I have to come here for weeks and not get laid.

  “And just to make it interesting, you’re gonna study naked. Take off your clothes.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I don’t know much about this world. I’m only eighteen. I feel like a little baby seahorse in a sea of sharks, that’s how confusing life is for me right now. But I do know one thing for sure.

  I should walk out of this house, call the police, and tell them what Mateo is doing.

  I also know I’m not even close to doing those things. Some fucked-up part of me is intrigued, turned on, and on my way to being addicted to him.

  I don’t give him the WTF are you talking about look or act shocked. Why would I? He prepped me for this, I realize. Last night when he came over.

  ‘Take your clothes off’ is a command I’ve heard before. Something I’ve obeyed before. He even gives me these few seconds to work this all out.

  And it pays off. Because I lift my shirt over my head, slip my jeans down my legs, unclasp my bra, let it slide down my arms to the floor, and then wiggle out of my underwear. I stand there naked in front of him as a condition of being given the opportunity to learn trig, take a test, give him a blow job, get at least one question right, and get my pussy licked.

  I’m officially sick.

  But instead of thinking about how many therapy sessions I will require when this semester is over, I wonder… “How hard can the first test be?”

  Mateo actually laughs.

  I love laughing Mateo.

  “You’re gonna pass that one, Shannon, but it won’t be as easy as you think,” he says, taking in my body with that wolfish gaze he has. “So let’s get started.” He points to the small kitchen table. There are only two chairs, one on each side of a window that faces the driveway. The blinds are up and the curtains are open. The house is sitting up higher than the driveway so if anyone did walk by, they probably could not see me.

  “A kid from your high school lives next door,” Mateo says, probably reading my mind. Because that’s when I see the window across the driveway. There’s no blinds or curtains in that one either. “If you sit here too long,” Mateo says, flipping on the lights—I look up at the bulbs dangling over the table—“it will get dark out, and believe me, he will see you. And he’ll see me, my hands fisting your hair, as I fuck your face.”

  I look over at him. I want to ask all the questions. Like why? Why do you do this shit?

  But I know why. It’s the same reason I let him drag me into this completely insane scenario. He likes it. It turns him on to think of people watching us. It turns him on to scare me into doing the things he wants with the threat of humiliation.

  So why bother asking? I like it too. I just nod. “We better get busy then.”

  He bares his teeth in a grin. “I hope you’re a quick learner, Shannon.”

  “I can be.”

  He frowns. “Explain. I hate wasting my time.”

  “I’m not good at math, Mateo. I’m good at memorizing things, so I learn the steps to solve the problems and I repeat them on tests. I’m not good at school, I’m just good at tests. That’s how I got through those AP classes. So if you want to waste time teaching me theory, or the reasons why math is the way it is, or force me to understand what I’m doing—then we’re never gonna fuck again. I just learn the steps. If you really want to help me graduate, teach me how to work the problems and let me do it my way.”

  “OK,” he says in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “Fair enough. Get out a piece of paper.”

  I look at the folder he’s got set up on the table, open it, and take out a piece of graph paper. He pushes a mechanical pencil ove
r to me and I take it and then look up at him expectantly.

  “Every section in every chapter has a purpose, and your homework is to read the chapter, find the purpose of each section, and write it down in one sentence on that piece of paper. That’s your cheat sheet.”

  “It’s open-book?”

  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “Life isn’t open-book, Shannon. You just think it is because you can look up anything you want on the internet. Answers are free these days. But it’s an illusion. You have to work for the answers. And if you’re good at remembering things, then you write down the answers that are meaningful so you can look them up when you need them.”

  “I’m not taking a test today, am I?”

  He shakes his head slowly. “I’m not letting you off easy. You’re not gonna get this credit without earning it. And I think you’re smart enough to realize that what we do after the test has nothing to do with what we do before it.”

  “Then why am I naked?”

  “I like looking at you. And after you write down the purpose of each section in chapter one, I’m going to fuck you anyway. Because I like fucking you too, and even if I had the kind of self-control it would take to let you get dressed and walk home, keeping you frustrated until tomorrow, I don’t want to practice it today.”

  “You’re the weirdest guy I’ve ever met.”

  He smiles. I long for the laugh, but I only get the smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now get to work.”

  I read the first section. It’s easy, so I find the purpose in less than a minute and start writing it down, being careful to make it succinct, so it has meaning to me later.

  Mateo cooks. He’s making lasagna because he’s got the box of pasta out on the counter with some cans of tomato paste. He starts boiling the water first, and then empties the paste in another pot to make the sauce. I’m intrigued by everything. And he’s got his back to me, so I can stare at the muscles under his t-shirt and the tattoos down his arms as he works. They are mostly stars, I realize.