by Bailey Hull
When I finally awake up the music has stopped and I gotta pee. I tiptoe down the hall, do my business. I’m about to leave when I catch my reflection in the mirror. Even in the low light provided by the nightlight I can still see the bruising on the left side of my face where Mary hit me. As I stand there studying my reflection it occurs to me that I’m wearing nothing but a pair of white cotton panties and a tight fitting white tank top. It would be exceedingly uncomfortable to get caught dressed like this. I keep forgetting I’m not the only one living upstairs now. I sigh. I guess I’d better get back in bed.
That’s when I see him. The second I turn to leave I see Brandon studying my from the bathroom doorway. I can feel the rush of heat blossoming in my cheeks. I can’t believe he caught me. I wonder how long he’s been standing there looking at me. Without meaning to my eyes drop down below his waist. I gulp involuntarily. He’s got on a pair of mid-thigh white briefs on. They fit on him like a second skin and his bulging manhood is casting a sizeable shadow across his hip.
“Look Jordan,” Brandon begins. “If you like what you see maybe we should take this little song and dance to my bedroom.”
“Huh?”
“I think you heard me Jordy.”
While my brain is scrambling to come up with a suitable reply Brandon walks into the bathroom.
“Uh…Brandon, what are you doing?”
“I’m giving you what you want.”
“What makes you think what I want is in the bathroom?”
“Cause I just stepped into the bathroom.”
“You have an awful high opinion of yourself Brandon. Aren’t you worried a fall from that high a pedestal you’re on will hurt you? Now I’m no medical doctor but I think you could actually break your neck and we wouldn’t want that now would we?”
Now Brandon closes the distance between us with a couple quick strides. I can’t let this happen. He’s my stepbrother for fucks sake! So I whirl around with the intention of marching purposefully out of the bathroom but Brandon is right behind me. Suddenly we’re face to face and nearly touching each other. I gasp involuntarily. He leans in to me and I’m pretty sure he intends to kiss me so I do the only thing I can think of; I burp. Just a tiny little burp. Kinda cute really, but not so cute to the other person if he’s just about to kiss you.
I cover my mouth with my hand and mutter an apology but my little maneuver doesn’t quite have the desired effect. He smiles and moves in for another kiss. This time I’ve got no way out. I have to remember he is my brother. We became brother and sister the day we were thrown together in the state sponsored foster care system. But it was always more than that. We were best friends. Brandon was adopted first, and a month later so was I. I made a promise to myself that one day I would find my brother. Problem is, when I found him again he was no longer my brother; he had become something much more.
I open my eyes. Even in the low light I can see the blue-green of the ocean sparkling in them and my soul is filled with peace. His eyes reach out and caress me as his lips brush up against mine. He doesn’t push, instead he places his against mine waiting for me to yield to his passion. I haven’t crossed the line yet; not until I kiss back. Not until I open my mouth and accept who he is to me now and what that means for us. He waits. I can feel his minty breath caressing my lips, mingling with my own warmth. I don’t know if I can do this. If I cross this line I can never go back. I take a deep breath and still my mind. But it only takes a moment to realize my heart has already crossed that line and for me there will be no returning.
My lips part and we kiss. The feeling is electric as my body melts into his. My nipples tingle as his chest mashes up against mine. His hands are here, there, everywhere at once exploring what was forbidden just days ago. Strong hands fall to my waist and he picks me up effortlessly and sets me on the counter by the sink. I lean back against the mirror thrusting my hips forward to meet his and I feel his desire throbbing against my pulsing sex. My lips part as his rigid shaft slides up and down against my clit sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. I need more! I push him. He stumbles back in confusion.
“What?”
I put my index finger to his lips. “Hush.”
I hook my fingers in the sides of my panties and slide them down over my hips, past my bent knees and down to my feet where I kick them aside. I glance down at my flat tummy as I stand back up. I can see my own desire glistening over my shaved sex. I grab the bottom of my tank top as Brandon hooks his thumbs into his own briefs and pulls them down over his rigid cock and down to the floor. I hoist myself back up on the counter and Brandon reaches for me but I push him back with my feet on his hips. I want to see him first in all his glory. His tumescent cock waves back and forth against his flat stomach glistening with our combined juices. I shift my hips forward and out over the lip of the counter top, spreading my knees for him. Brandon steps forward, taking his manhood in his hand and guiding it home. A soft moan escapes my lips as I feel his head push up against my pink hole before plunging all the way in with a single powerful thrust!
A cry of pain and ecstasy escapes my lips and he stretches me, grinding against my clit causing wave after wave shooting through my body as our thighs come together with an audible slap. Strong hands grab my breast mashing, pulling and twisting my nipples. Each pinch sends a bolt of intense pleasure straight into my brain. It’s enough to make my head spin.
At the same time the first wave of an orgasm ripples through my body, every ripple stronger, more satisfying than the previous ones until I can’t take it anymore. Brandon steps back, grabs his cock and begins to stroke his length up and down like jackhammer. With my right hand I grab his cock just above his hands and squeeze as his engorged head slides through my slickening fingers. Suddenly he lets out a deep, throaty groan as his hot white seed spurts through my fingers, across my tits and neck. Finally he begins to ease up as his essence winds down into a trickle over the backs of our fingers. I let go of his cock and look at my sticky warm fingers, inhaling his masculine scent. Curious I bring my index finger to my lips. I stop for a second to look at him. He’s watching me wondering if I’ll do it or be grossed out by his seed. His cock is still rigid in his hands but he’s no longer pumping. He watches intently as I open my lips and slip my sticky finger inside, sucking his warm salty fluid off my finger and it feels so good knowing that I did this. I made him lose control and explode his essence over my body.
Presently he leans forward and whispers in my ear. “Let’s go to bed and do it again.”
How can I possibly refuse?
Chapter Ten
Further the Divide
Wednesday Morning…
Sunlight streaming in through the window and right into my eyes slowly wakes me up. I lie for a minute clearing the cobwebs from my brain when something stirs beside me.
Brandon!
I jump up scrambling to keep a sheet covering my breasts. Brandon opens his eyes and smiles lazily at me.
“What the hell?” I ask stunned that its morning and I’m lying in his bed.
“Good morning to you too babe.” He says with a smile.
“Holy shit, I can’t be in here!” I look over at the clock. It’s twenty minutes after seven. “Oh my god, I’m supposed to be finishing breakfast right now.” I cast around his room for my clothes. My bra and panties are lying in the middle of the floor.
“Relax…” Brandon says. “No one knows you’re here.”
Frantically I pull at his sheet until it becomes untucked from the end of the bed. I wrap it around myself and stand up. Just as I’m grabbing up my clothing items there’s a knock on the door.
“Brandon.” My dad calls. “Can I come in for a minute?”
Brandon shoots me a look then points to his closet. I know what he’s going to do. I make a mad dash across the floor and literally dive into his closet pulling the door closed as he invites my dad in.
“Come in Mr. Chouinard.” Brandon calls out.
I peek
through the horizontal slats in his closet door. Brandon is sitting up in bed. My dad walks in and sits in the chair at his desk.
“So I thought about what you said…about the fight and all and I made a few calls. You’re in luck. The UCC is willing to entertain the idea of a second bout between you guys. They’re just trying to figure out the best way to market it. I also planted the seed about prize money as well. Their first response was to donate a said amount to a charity of the winner’s choice. They’re a little hesitant about making high school kids fight for money. It’s a bit cut throat to have teenagers beating each other to death for a few bucks. But I think they’ll come around. I suggested they use the prize money to benefit the school instead and they really liked that idea.”
“Well that’s great Mr. Chouinard.” Brandon replies.
“I also made a few calls to local gyms and karate schools as well. We should have a trainer and nutritionist nailed down by the end of the week and maybe a fight date in a month.”
“This is great news Sir. Thank you so much.”
“No problem son. Hey, have you seen Jordy this morning. She didn’t come down for breakfast either and she’s not in her room.”
I catch my breath. Oh shit! What am I going to do?
“Sorry, haven’t seen her since just after dinner. She was buried in homework last we talked.”
“Well if you see her before I leave for work tell her I’m looking for her will you?”
“Sure thing Mr. Chouinard.”
“Have a good day at school.”
“Thanks.”
Soon as my father closes the door I stumble out of the closet.
“What am I supposed to-”
Another knock on the door sends me scurrying back into the closet.
“Come in.” Brandon calls out as I’m shutting the door.
“Almost forgot.” Mr. Chouinard says. “I heard there was an altercation between Jordan and some girl at school. Apparently the other girl was suspended. My daughter okay? Should I be worried here?”
“She looked fine to me Sir. Well, except for a tiny shiner, she’s fine. It was just a misunderstanding. No one would have been suspended if there hadn’t been any evidence of trauma. But it’s minor so don’t you worry Sir, your daughter is fine.”
“Thanks Brandon.”
“Bye Sir.”
After the door closes I peek out cautiously, making sure my father’s not going to pay us another surprise visit. When the coast is clear I climb out. Next I peek out the bedroom door making sure my father is downstairs before I venture out.
“Where you going?” Brandon asks.
“To get dressed…in my own room.”
“You’re leaving without giving me a good morning kiss?” He asks.
“I hold my hand in front of my mouth and breathe out before sniffing. “Yeah, you’re not getting a kiss from me until I’ve brushed.”
I poke my head out the door again, then look back at Brandon. “Later Romeo.” I run out dragging his bed sheet in my wake.
At School…
Homeroom is just wrapping up when I finally drop Brandon off at Pete’s coffee.
“How long you going to keep doing this?” He asks, indicating the coffee shop.
I think about it. Everyone knows he’s my sort of brother. I guess there’s no point in making him walk the last few blocks.
“Fine, get back in.”
He gets in and we drive in silence to the school. Things are about to get really interesting here. Soon as the school hears about the rematch the whole place will be in an uproar. I’m sure the Eastside Pride’s publicity machine will be churning out posters, banners, and scores of the faithful followers garnering support for Chase. That will of course drive a further wedge between the schools rich and poor. I’m just waiting for the gold stars to get passed out; any day now I’m sure.
It happened a lot sooner than I expected. Instead of the Westside student body being forced to wear some kind of identifying mark, it’s the Eastside kids that are wearing the ‘brand.’ At lunch a UPS guy delivered a big box to Megan and she opened it while we were having our lunch in the cafeteria. It was a box full of red and white badges. The badges themselves were bright red with the stylized letters, EP, for Eastside Pride in white. Unlike most badges that are round these are square. Megan proudly takes out two of them and hands me one before penning the other to her jacket.
“Who drew the letters?” I ask. I’m pretty sure I know the answer.
“Mark did.” She replies.
That would be Mark Brown, the mean kid who harassed Melissa and Brandon with his caricatures last week. The kid’s good; evil but good.
Megan pulls out a paper bag from her backpack and puts a bunch of buttons into it before handing it to me.
“Only give it to the kids who are really supportive of our cause.”
So it is a cause now and not just a club. I do not like where this is going at all. At first the changes were barely noticeable. Cliques have always been a part of school life and Lincoln High is no different. But lately there seem to be only two cliques, the kids who support Chase and those who support Brandon. That wasn’t so bad. But even those cliques have changed. When Brandon started attending Lincoln his followers were largely kids from the West side of the river, but he still had a number of kids from the East side as well; not so anymore. Chase used to have fans from both sides of the St. Lawrence but that has changed dramatically. Chase has one type of supporter; affluent kids living on the East side of the St. Lawrence. Both groups of kids pretty much left each other alone and at least they tolerated one another. Now open hostility is turning to outright violence as underprivileged kids from the West of the river are pitted against wealthy kids from the East side. It’s your classic haves versus the have not’s; or as some students are calling it plain and simple good versus evil. Kids from the East have taken to wearing the red and white EP badges and they are so popular you can safely assume that if you see someone without the badge they are a Westside supporter of Brandon. As he divide between the two students widens I am forced to look at myself and my part in the problem. About a week ago I predicted that kids from the underprivileged Westside would be made to wear some kind of identifying mark; not necessarily on the skin. Today that happened. A special assembly is announced during second period. The theme of the assembly; pride.
As usual I end up sitting with everyone I don’t much like anymore or just plain can’t stand. Sadly Megan is firmly in the I don’t much like anymore category, but I’m hoping one day she’ll wake up and stop this insanity. And in the, I just plain can’t stand, section it’s Eastside Pride’s wonderful VP Kelly Emmerson. Surrounding me are the EP faithful looking every bit as rich and useless as they really are. What I wouldn’t give to shed my EP persona and go sit with my real friends in the Westside section.
So the faculty in its infinite wisdom has decided that the kids from West of the St. Lawrence river should have as much pride as students from the East side. To help instill that deep sense of pride the faculty had green wristbands made up that look just like the yellow Livestrong bands made famous by American cyclist Lance Armstrong. Imprinted on the green wrist bands is the words I HEART WESTSIDE. The word heart has been replaced with the symbol of a heart. The bands are free of course. Principal Mooreland ends the short assembly with last minute instructions and a warning.
“Every student will be given a green band that lives west of the St. Lawrence River. I and the rest of the faculty do not want to require students to wear the band because we don’t think we should have to. Wearing the band is a matter of pride and that’s what we’re looking for is pride in ourselves and pride in our school. Teachers will be carrying replacement bands for those students who may have forgotten or lost theirs. Bands will be free for the first thirty days. After that a five dollar replacement fee will be assessed. When you are dismissed get your first band from the teachers at the doors. You are allowed to take two bands today so you will
have your own first replacement band. Now get out there and enjoy a pride filled day Westsiders!”
Chapter Eleven
Training
“Hey Jordan, wait up.”
I turn around in the hall and Megan is trying to catch up with me. At her side is none other than Chase himself which further confirms my assumption that she and the squeaky clean fighter are now a couple. Megan says something to him and he stays put while she runs up to me.
“We should talk.” Megan tells me.
“Okay…when and where?”
“During lunch. Let’s meet at Starbucks.”
“Sounds good, I’ll be there.”
I have a hard time concentrating on anything for the next few hours. Everywhere I look I see Nazi Germany or the US just before the Civil War. I realize this is only a high school problem but it is still a pretty fucked up situation and people are being alienated and hurt. Sadly I’m one of the ones doing the hurting. I just have to remind myself that in this case, the ends justify the means; at least I hope they do.
As agreed, when the bell sounds for lunch I hoof it to Starbucks to meet Megan. She is sitting and sipping coffee when I get there.
“So what’s up?” I ask Megan as I sit down.
“I need some information.” She says.
“What kind of information?” I’m quite positive I’m not going to like where this conversation is headed.
“Find out as much as you can about Brandon’s workout routine.” Megan begins.