Winter Miracle

by Teagan Kade

  Wow. This is a side to Tia I wasn’t expecting at all. It’s fucking bad-ass. “I’ve put girls on that website too, you know. You going to knock me out as well? How did you knock him out?”

  She ignores my question. “At least you give them all five out of five, but yes, I should be kicking your immature ass too, but I can’t move him by myself, can I?”

  “Move him?”

  “To the quadrangle. We’re going to put him on display, him and that peanut he calls a cock.” The way she says ‘cock’ is fucking beautiful.

  I open the door. Guy’s out cold. His dick is so shriveled up you can barely see it. “Again, how did you knock him out?”

  The smile that comes to her face is pure evil. I fucking love it.

  “Follow me,” she says.

  She takes my hand and leads me to a set of drawers near his bed, pulling out the bottom one. Below it is a fucking chemist’s worth of pills, drugs, powders.

  “Jesus,” I stammer.

  “Lacey told me all about it. The idiot was stupid enough to show her, asked her if she needed anything to help her relax.”

  Tia reaches in and selects a bag. “Roofies. Pretty funny, huh?”

  I don’t know if ‘funny’ is the right word, not that I haven’t long suspected Ethan was drugging girls, himself, dealing to every kid within ten miles. His parents might be loaded, but I know for a fact they only provide him a small allowance. Of course he was going to take advantage.

  A thought comes. Call it in. Get the fucker kicked out once and for all. It’s a good idea, but public humiliation is even better.

  Tia drops the bag back in and puts the drawer into place. “Wasn’t hard to spike his drink.”

  I really can’t believe the deception at play here. I’ve had Tia all wrong. “This is some dangerous, Mission Impossible shit. What if he tried something on you again?”

  “I can handle myself,” and the look in her eyes tells me she sure as fuck can.

  “You actively lead him on, all for this?” I don’t know whether I should feel relived or terrified.

  She nods. “Girls have to protect their own. Lacey wasn’t going to do anything. She doesn’t have the balls.”

  I laugh. “And you do?”

  She reaches down to the crotch of her jeans and pulls. “You better believe it.”

  I push open the bathroom door again. It’s such a pathetically sad sight. I mean, it’s cold, but it’s not that cold. “You’re a hell of a friend, you know that?”

  She pushes me in. “Just grab his arms.”

  I salute. “Yes, sir.”

  *

  I can’t say I’m used to lugging naked men around campus. I know what they say about dead weight, but this is ridiculous. It’s like hauling an elephant around in the middle of the night.

  I’m holding him under his arms, Tia with his legs like a wheelbarrow, his dick flopping back and forth like a melancholy window wiper. I’m looking around, wondering when someone is going to spot us. This is out there, even for me.

  I breathe out, a veil of white following. “This is insane.”

  Tia jerks her head towards the quadrangle. “We’re almost there.”

  “You’re fucking crazy, Tia Reed.”

  She smiles. “Takes crazy to know crazy, right?”

  A bronze statue of the college’s founder, Dr. Xavier Hutchins, stands proudly in the center of the quadrangle. The poor guy’s doomed to X-Man jokes for all eternity. In a couple of hours this place will be swarming with students.

  Tia drops Ethan’s legs. There’s nothing gentle about it. I lower him down and drop the bag. “He’ll get frostbite out here.”

  Tia busies herself spreading out the rope. She’s a pro at this. I almost tell her she can tie me up whenever she likes before sense kicks in. Can you even see what she’s doing here?

  She tests the slack in the rope. “The sun will be up at five. That’s an hour away. He’ll survive. Besides, if his cock does drop off it will be a service to women worldwide. Help me stand him up.”

  I reach under his arms draw him into a standing position against the bottom of the statue while Tia runs the rope around his torso and thighs. All the while I can feel his junk pressing into my leg. I’ve had wild nights, sure, but this takes the cake.

  He murmurs something, a jumble of words. I’m so spooked I almost leap out of my skin.

  Tia slaps him in the face. “There, there, princess. You’ll have all the attention you need soon enough.”

  Tia’s working the rope like a fucking Boy Scout, tying it off and standing back to admire her handiwork.

  I have to give it to her. This is some A-grade pranking. “Where’d you learn to tie knots? The Corps?”

  There’s almost a classical beauty at the way the imposing figure of Dr. Xavier looms over the bound body of Ethan below, his cock hanging limply to one side and looking even smaller out in the open.

  Tia takes out a lipstick and moves towards him. She writes something on his chest. When she stands back I see it reads ‘World’s Worst Lay’ in bright red.

  “Classy.”

  She takes out her phone, the flash going off as she takes a picture. “There you go, Lacey. Happy birthday.”

  I’m still looking around waiting for security to show. “What now?”

  She takes my hand. It’s warm, deliciously, press-it-between-my-legs warm. “Now we get the hell out of here.”

  We both spring through campus to the apartment, running, laughing, pushing each other. I feel like I’m a kid again, not a single worry in the world.

  Tia’s striding ahead of me across the running track. She turns, stops and I collide into her, her two hands pressed flat against my chest.

  I look down into her eyes made metallic under the moonlight, a world of possibility swimming inside them.

  Her hands remain glued to my chest. I’d be quite content if they never moved.

  Gently, I run my own hands up her side as our breath continues to mingle cloudy and hot between us. I lean in, lips parted.

  Do it.

  Do it.

  Do it.

  A moment before our lips meet she pushes me away, starting to run off again. I don’t know where she’s getting this limitless energy.

  “Come on,” she says, jogging backwards. “I thought you were an athlete.”

  “And if I catch you?”

  She winks. “You won’t.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  TIA

  By sun-up social media is ablaze with Ethan Knight’s spectacular fall from grace in the college quadrangle. Speculation is rife as to the perpetrators, but even if Ethan does figure it out, he’s not going to do jack shit about it.

  U R THE BEST, messages Lacey, the text followed by a flood of emoticons. That makes it all worthwhile. Guys like Ethan think they’re entitled to do whatever the fuck they want. Maybe he learned his lesson now.

  Maybe not.

  Blake comes out of his room in his boxers holding up his phone. “I particularly like this one. Makes it look real cold out.”

  I laugh, cereal and milk spilling out of my mouth. I lean over the bowl. “He’s not going to be happy about it.”

  Blake puts the phone down. “Fuck him. Is Lacey happy?”

  “She is.”

  “Then that’s all that matters.”

  Blake looks away for a moment before turning his attention back to me. “You should know I deleted the website.”

  “The website?”

  He remains serious. “The website.”

  “Oh?” Color me surprised. “That’s good.” It is, though I never thought he’d actually do it. It was no doubt a prized possession, a digital account of his many triumphs and conquests, a testament to his virility… or reputation as an asshole.

  “It was never my idea in the first place. Fuck knows why I even went along with it. I flushed the whole thing, had Han Solo-slash-Mr. Rover at the AV college help.”

  Act cool. “Thanks.”

  �
�No problem.”

  I’ve never been so nervous. Why do I feel this way?

  “Say,” he says, equally awkward, “you planning anything after training tonight?”

  I put my spoon down, watch the way the milk ripples away from it. “I’ve got nothing planned, no.”

  He speaks to the fridge. “I was thinking, you know, maybe we could watch the other Star Wars movie?”

  He looks back to me like a lost little puppy dog, the mighty Blake Johnson exposed. “The sequels?” I laugh, but I’ve taken it too far. I can see the way it cuts him.

  He runs his hand across the table. “You’re right. Stupid fucking idea.”

  Do something! my head screams. “Wait, sure,” I splutter. “I mean, yeah, we can watch it.”

  A genuine smile lights up his face, his hazel eyes sparkling in tandem. “Cool.”

  Cool? Who says that these days? Vanilla Ice?

  “I mean, yeah, no problem,” he corrects. “See you here then, like, at the apartment?”

  Oh man. “Can’t imagine we’d be anywhere else.”

  “Yeah, okay. Here then, after training?”

  “It’s a date,” I reply, not really thinking about what I’m saying but noticing the way his smile grows at the words. I bet it’s not the only thing growing…

  “Yeah,” he repeats, “a date”.

  *

  Rain beats against the windows hard. It’s been pouring all night, not that anything could put a damper on these proceedings.

  “So,” I announce, switching off the TV, “what did you think of The Empire Strikes Back?”

  I notice he presses the cushion into his lap a little more. He probably has a hard-on you could wreck a building with.

  And all over you.

  I think he spent more time watching me out the corner of his eye than he did the movie.

  “You know what? It was pretty great.”

  I clap my hands together, getting up onto my knees. He’s so, so close. It would be so easy to reach out and…

  “CGI left a little to be desired, mind you.”

  I playfully push his shoulder. “There was no CGI back then, you idiot.”

  “I know.”

  He turns and holds my gaze, the two of us watching each other, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but be in this moment. He shifts ever so slightly sideways, leans towards me.

  It’s going to happen. It is actually going to happen and I don’t want to stop it. I can’t.

  My lips part ever so slightly, a wispy breath released warm and hot against my face.

  I’d give up everything to be with him in this moment, anything for a simple kiss to stifle the need that’s suffocating me, to feel his lips pressed up against mine, his heart beating against my own, his hand running between my legs, fingers sliding into my wetness.

  I’m closing my eyes, our heads drawing closer and closer, when the front door bursts open.

  It’s Billy with a six-pack under his arm. “Fuckers! Ready for a little condo party?”

  Blake looks like he could murder him, brother or not. He leans back, the moment lost. “I thought you were hanging with Cutter and Magnus tonight, man?”

  Billy places the six-pack down on the coffee table and slumps into the sofa between us. Guy couldn’t take a hint if it rose up and slapped him in the face. “Fell through. So, what are we watching?”

  *

  We’re halfway through The Inbetweeners, Billy snoring between us still cradling a beer in his lap. We’ve had one or two each. I’m slightly tipsy myself, but it hasn’t affected Blake in the slightest.

  On screen two characters are undressing in front of a lake.

  I motion at the TV. “You ever done it?”

  Blake snaps to attention. “Undressed?”

  I laugh, shaking my head. “Skinny-dipping, numbskull.”

  He sits up. “Once or twice.”

  I’m sure it’s a lie. There’s probably not a body of water on earth his dick hasn’t been in.

  “You?”

  I sip on my beer, don’t even really know why I’m doing it. “Never.”

  Story of my life.

  “You want to?” he offers.

  I bite my lip. “What? Right now?”

  “I’ve got a key to the pool, remember, for training.”

  Of course you do. “I couldn’t…”

  But he’s got the idea by the teeth now, the prospect of seeing me naked driving him, not that it would so bad seeing him naked. “Come on.”

  I lift my chin. “What do you have to offer?”

  He looks across to me. “Always with the bargaining. What, my charm isn’t enough?”

  “No,” comes my drawn-out reply.

  He thinks. “How many Star Wars films are there?

  “Well, seven if you count The Force Awakens, but...”

  “Come skinny dipping and I’ll watch every damn one of them with you.”

  It’s too good an offer to refuse considering I was sold from the start. “Deal.”

  *

  The rain hasn’t backed off, drumming against the roof. Indoors, the Edmond Manners Memorial Pool is dark, silver light running in strips across the surface of the water. A blanket of mist brushes against it.

  Blake turns to me. And there’s that odd grin again, wistful and reckless, his right eye on fire, half-winking above. I lose myself in them for a moment and somehow manage to claw my way out of the stupor to produce a word. “So?”

  “We do this.”

  The idea seems less appealing now we’re actually here. I flick my head towards the windows. “Anyone could see us through those things.”

  “Trust me, those gardens are completely empty this time of night,” he reassures.

  “Trust you?”

  “So someone sees us. What’s the worst that could happen? We get a slap on the wrist, suspended? Don’t know about you, but I could use a break.”

  “You’re one strike away from expulsion. You don’t think this would count?”

  “It’s worth it.”

  Zing. Another doozy straight to my vagina.

  I’m wary, looking him straight in the eyes. “You just want to see me with my clothes off.”

  He puts his hand to his heart and stands at salute. “I swear I won’t look, not even a tiny bit, and I’ll go all the way with you.”

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “You know what I mean.”

  The rain shifts up a notch, hammering against the windows in a percussive slurry.

  Blake moves closer. “What happened to the wild and spontaneous prankster?”

  Another raised eyebrow. “You’re really going to play that card?”

  “If you don’t do anything completely reckless, out of control ever again, do this one thing. I won’t tell a soul.”

  It still sounds ludicrous, but I have to admit Blake has a strange effect on me. He’s fire. Try as I might, battle against my head all I want, I’m going to get burnt one way or another. Why not have a little fun in the process? I mean, when was the last time I completely let go?

  You know why.

  No, fuck that. It’s been long enough. I can’t let what happened in Orlando follow me around, forever casting a shadow over my life.

  “Fine,” I agree, “on my terms.” I can’t even believe the words are coming from my mouth.

  “Sorry?” Blake clearly isn’t expecting it either.

  “I’ll do it.”

  “You’ll do it.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, let’s go then.”

  “Let’s.”

  My toes tingle. My whole body feels tight and tense, but why? This is what I want, isn’t it? A true college experience?

  The rat-a-tat-tat of rain continues, a death march.

  “I think you know where the female changing rooms are,” says Blake, jogging ahead of me and pointing down past the pool.

  “If anyone comes, make a run for it.”

  This does little to appease my fast-d
eclining courage. “Where will you be?”

  “I’ll get changed—undressed, I mean—over in the men’s changing rooms. I assume you don’t want to come out together, so I’ll jump in and yell the coast is clear. Towels are by the bench there.”

  I feign casualness. “No problem.”

  We head in separate directions. My heart rate triples as soon as he’s out of sight. I walk into the change rooms, sit down and try to catch my breath.

  I hear a splash outside. Blake shouts something and I silently curse him for rushing me along. I stand up and start undressing, placing my clothes on a seat near the door exactly the way I was wearing them in case they need to go back on in a hurry.

  This is what you want, isn’t it? Dad would freakin’ flip if he caught us. You’re twenty-one, idiot. Like he’s got any say over how you live your life.

  Soon I’m standing there naked. It’s cool and completely unnatural, which is funny when I think about it. I can hear sound beyond the door.

  You have lost your mind, Tia Reed.

  Ideally, the best way to approach the situation is to run and jump in, limbs akimbo and loose bits flailing like a completely free spirit. That’s how they do it in the movies, spur of the moment.

  Instead, I poke my head around the changing room’s entrance, my body pressed up against the cold wall.

  “Don’t look,” I announce, as loud as I can muster. My voice bounces off the windows and walls, reverberating with the rain and turning into something alien.

  That’s the right word. I feel so incredibly strange standing here in this situation. Vulnerable. I shake, more from the thought of stepping out than the actual cold. I have goose-bumps in places I didn’t even know you could get them, and while there are maybe only fifteen feet to the pool, it might as well be five hundred.

  “I’m not looking, see. I’m covering my eyes,” Blake shouts back.

  It’s dark. Blue light dances on the ceiling, the walls and windows. Mist reaches up off the surface. Blake is more of a shape than anything else. His body bounces up and down in the water, but with the ripples it was like looking into a broken mirror and certainly not the full-frontal peep-show I’d managed to conjure up in my mind’s eye earlier.