by Tiana Laveen
“And ova here, we have that big, SpongeBob built bitch, Mrs. Cee.” He pointed towards the receptionist, a pale-fleshed older woman with a scowl across her rectangular shaped face.
“My mother and father are gonna kill me…” Hassani mumbled as he toiled with his jacket, rolling it up tight in his grip like a towel being squeezed dry. He promised his parents he wouldn’t get into any more trouble in school, but that little fat head kid had it coming.
“Yeah.” Angel smirked. “They probably will. Saint ain’t no joke.” He grinned, like the mess was funny. “By the time I got down there, it was almost too late.” The boy cackled, seemingly proud of the whole incident. “I bet he won’t fuck wit’ you no more though.” Angel’s eyes grew cold and dark as night as he glared at him. “Besides, you were just defending yourself. He hit you first.”
A stone-faced woman with fluffy reddish brown hair approached them.
“Hashen Ache-knot-tin?” She looked down at her clipboard, then shot a menacing glare towards Angel. “I’m all too familiar with the likes of you… I’m looking forward to the day you are expelled and out of my hair.” She pointed at Angel as if he were some fungus that refused to stop growing and spreading his nasty ways along the school hallway walls.
“Oh yeah?” Angel smirked as he looked up at her and popped his gum. “Well, I’m lookin’ forward to the day when you check the damn mirror before you leave the house. You need to get familiar with some plastic surgery, some clothes that actually don’t smell like a mixture of hot garbage and moth balls, and someone to do your fucked up hair that you want me out of so damn bad…you ugly, old stank pussy bitch!”
And then that was it—the woman suddenly grew into some super hero and snatched Angel up so fast, he looked like a yo-yo on a string. The strangest thing happened though. The boy smiled all the way and winked at Hassani as she dragged him away. Hassani couldn’t understand why he’d spoken to the woman like that; after all, he was in the lesser amount of trouble of the two, but now, he’d surely get suspended. After the Vice Principal had left in a hurry with Angel in tow, he was called into the Principal’s office. He sat at her desk, sweating bullets—so many, he was surprised his thighs hadn’t been shot.
“Hassani Aknaten.” The pretty white woman clasped her hands together and smiled at him. He was proud she’d pronounced his name correctly; it was constantly being said wrong. “You are such a bright, gifted and nice boy, Hassani. Why would you get into a fight this afternoon with Kyle Koop?”
“Mrs. Dorris,” Hassani nervously spoke up, his voice cracking, embarrassing him so. “I didn’t do nothin’, I mean, anything. I was sitting at my desk writing down my work and he came and pushed me, told me he didn’t like me. I don’t even know Kyle, Mrs. Dorris. All I know is that he is in my computer graphics class and sits two seats down. Mrs. Dorris, I don’t like to fight.”
“Well, Hassani, that may be true, but there have been a lot of potential fights around you since you’ve been here. I also heard about one that occurred right outside the school front doors, after school hours. Now, the other little boy involved confirmed you two were the ones being harassed, but it does not negate the fact that trouble seems to follow you. I’m not certain if you are verbally inciting these other students, but if you are, it needs to stop.”
“No, Mrs. Dorris!” Panic began to set in. “I promise you I ain’t, I mean, I’m not saying anything to anyone. I just want to come to school, get my work done and go home. I don’t want to get in trouble! Please don’t call my daddy!” He was now gripping the damn jacket even tighter, surely about to tear a hole in it.
Daddy had got back from his trip to L.A. and immediately taken him in the backyard after his fight with Mr. Moon and Mr. Cookie. He confessed he understood he had to defend himself against the jerks, but fighting should be avoided at all costs, only used as a last resort. He warned him to keep his nose clean, and so he’d promised Daddy he would, but now this happened…
“Well.” She sighed and nodded in his direction, a sweet smile on her face. “I like you a lot Hassani, but you really need to watch who you hang with. I was told that Angel was with you, yet once again. He’d gotten out of class multiple times, and came down to your room. Now…” She pointed at him as she gave her warning. “You need to understand that I don’t believe in bad children. I believe in children who sometimes do the wrong thing, and Angel is one of those children. He is a very bright boy, but he is not a good role model for you, Hassani. You may look up to him, because well, he is older than you, has taken some sort of liking to you, and a lot of the kids around here look up to him—but if you follow in his footsteps, all of these fights and everything, you will end up in his same shoes. Now you don’t want that, do you?”
Hassani hesitated, then shook his head. “No Mrs. Dorris.”
Neither Mrs. Dorris nor anyone else in that school would understand, so there was no need in trying any further to plead his case, make her see.
“Now.” She shuffled some papers on her desk. “I was going to ask Angel to come in here and give his side of the story, for what it was worth.” She rolled her eyes, but since he has once again smarted off at Mrs. Mickels, I’ll just have to take your word for this and let it go…but don’t let me find out you’ve had another altercation, Hassani. I want you to excel, to succeed. You are truly one of the brightest young men I’ve met and your parents care a great deal about you. They are heavily involved in your progression. Your mother practically calls your teachers every week now for a progress report.”
Mama been calling up here?! Oh no!
He was certain he was turning all shades of red…
“And your father and I speak every now and again as well. He has made it clear that, should you get into any trouble, I am to call him immediately.” She shook her head, clasped her hands together, and looked into his eyes. “However, I am going to let this one go, Hassani. But if it happens again, I’ll make good on your father’s request. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After a few moments, Hassani was released into the now empty school halls with a pink piece of paper in his hand. He made his way slowly back to class. As if carried by a puff of smoke, Angel mysteriously arrived at his side, a crooked grin on his face.
“See…I knew they’d let you off.”
Hassani paused, balled the paper tightly in his quaking palm and looked at Angel up close and personal.
“You knew that boy was gonna try me, Angel. How do you know when I’m in trouble? This tha third time you’ve done that. I want to know,” he asked. Angel tapped around a bit, as if not wanting to answer. He looked here, there and everywhere. The limestone water fountain couldn’t possibly be that interesting.
“It’s like your father said.” He finally steadied himself. “We’re in tune. We chose each other. I just know…”
“Yeah.” Hassani started to walk again. “Well, I need you, so please stop mouthin’ off at people before you get expelled.” He lowered his head as if drowning in sorrow, for in a way, he was.
“I knew what I was doin’.”
“What are you talking about? How is gettin’ smart with Ms. Mickels helping?”
“If I hadda gone in there with you, to talk to Mrs. Dorris, she woulda called your house, told your father. I know her, man. Anyone hemmed up with me is guilty by association, but like most folks, the visual is what makes the shit pop. With me not sitting there, you’d look more innocent. Which you were, but with me,” Angel said, pointing to himself. “They’d have had you down for detention. That was all an act. I didn’t care about that woman. She ain’t get to me like that, Hassani. She always mouthin’ off, and I ignore her. I just realized as I was sitting there that we needed to somehow get separated. I couldn’t have you taking the fall like that. Oh, and keep your nose clean little fucka ’cause I’m suspended.” He laughed mirthlessly.
“Suspended?!” Hassani screamed. “Angel! No!”
“Oh, calm down.” The
boy grinned and rolled his eyes as he patted Hassani’s back. It’s only for two days. That means the rest of today, and Monday, so you cool. Mondays are easy for you, ’cause you are in art class for three periods in a row. And besides, some of those dumb mothafuckas saw how you socked Kyle. They don’t want none of that.” He cackled. “See? Our little fight lesson helped I see.”
Angel had hemmed him up in the bathroom a couple of days earlier and struck him all about the body as if he were some punching bag. Hassani pleaded for his life, gasping for air, confused as to why his Guardian would do such a thing, but Angel kept right on, shouting all the while,
‘Imma make a man outta you! You better learn how to fight!’
“Nah,” Hassani grinned as he paused in front of his homeroom door. “My Daddy taught me that.”
“Saint?” Angel’s brow rose in astonishment. “I thought he was Mista Peaceful.”
“He is, but even Daddy has told me sometimes your peace has to be obtained by this piece.” Hassani raised his fist in the air and shook it, causing both of them to erupt in giggles. And it was true.
While in that backyard, as soon as the coast was clear and Mommy was out of the kitchen, Saint made the boy put his fists up. He gave him a lesson on self-defense, and whispered in his ear, ‘Should you have to fight again, this is how you do it…’
It was their little secret.
“True that!” Angel gave him a pound and began to walk backwards as Hassani gripped the knob of the classroom door to enter.
“Keep outta trouble!” he warned again. “I’ll give you a call this weekend, son!” He winked and raced up the hall towards the exit.
Hassani stood there for a while looking at nothing, then couldn’t help but crack a smile. Yeah, things weren’t so bad after all…
*
Chapter Thirty-One
“Are you sure about this, baby?” Saint glared at the woman as he stepped out the shower. He caught his reflection, taking note of the iridescent water beads all along his torso as he pushed his fingers through his saturated hair, removing the longer strands from in the front of his eyes. His cock immediately thickened from the sight of her in the plum, see-through negligee. It had been almost a month since they last made love, and though he didn’t admit it to her, he was deteriorating. He didn’t know when the misery would end, thus, anxiety built inside of him like a stack of blocks. Because of it, he poured himself like a cup of hot tea into his work. He dived nose deep in it, for without the distraction, he’d lose his fucking mind. Occasionally, she did allow a hug, though he knew it took all of her resolve. This was one of the worst things that could ever happen to them, a thing she was close mouthed about, refusing to let him in. He appreciated how she was trying to protect him, didn’t want to make his ass feel worse than he already did after the failed remedy.
They’d tried an exercise together a couple weeks earlier. She came to him, admitting the problem wasn’t going away, lessening or getting better. She wouldn’t give too many details, only that she was at a loss—and she wanted their marriage back on track. He decided they should go on a romantic rendezvous. It began with a walk in the park, and that was where it ended…
The woman could barely hold his hand. It was the first time in their marriage that an invisible entity had come in and stole their peace of mind, destroyed their happy home. He brought up Koki once again, unable to shake the notion that he’d had something to do with this, especially after another dream grabbed him like a rag doll and shook him in its tight grip. But Xenia knew nothing of that, and he drowned in the realization that this may be nothing of the sort. It could truly just be that he was one of the unluckiest bastards in the world.
Moving back into the moment, the woman led him out of their master suite bathroom into the bedroom. He was astonished to see rows of lit white candles and soft, romantic music playing. LSG crooned, ‘My Body.’
“Damn, you did all of this?” He nodded in approval, grinning like a silly kid in a candy store.
“Yes, I did. And yes, I’m sure. I want to try, Saint. I want us to get past this.” She smiled at him before she turned away and crawled onto the bed, her small soft feet moving about until she found a spot she liked, and lifted the cream colored covers. She disappeared beneath them, now protected from the chill in the room. New York had thrust itself under the cloak of a snowstorm. L.A. Dreams had officially been blown the fuck away with a kiss from the East coast, and she simply didn’t give a fuck as she puffed her cool air cigarette and blew snow in the face of all that opposed her. Saint tore his thick, black bath towel from around his waist, exposing himself to her. She immediately zoned in on his dick, as if she’d never seen it before. After running the towel along his hair, he set it to the side, slowly gliding himself under the covers beside her. He couldn’t help but notice how she swallowed nervously, how her fingers gripped the comforter so tight.
“Relax,” he cooed, not yet touching her. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do. You tell me what you want, and I’ll comply.” His cock saluted, causing the damn sheets to tent as he stared hungrily at her breasts, the nipples slightly erect and pushing into the thin, purple fabric of her gown.
She nodded, unleashed her grip on the sheets and slowly ran her hand along the bed towards him, until their fingertips met. Then, as if magic had come upon her, she smiled a bit, and then a little bit more. He hadn’t seen her smile in quite a while, and it aided in his sexual attraction right at that moment.
“I’m okay,” she said softly. “No strange or bad feelings… This is nice.” She then wrapped her hand around his and gave a gentle squeeze. She nodded as she rediscovered him. “Yes, this is good.”
Saint remained quiet, letting her take the lead. He didn’t want to do or say a damn thing that would mess up the positive progression. Despite all of his pent up sexual frustration, and how he wanted to tear that damn gown off her glorious body, expose her and have his way, he knew better… No, he had to be slow and steady, letting her lead him as if he were on a leash.
“Okay, do you want to try a little oral sex, first?” She shrugged her shoulders and gave a half smile, as if she’s forgotten how this worked.
“Anything you want, baby. Do you want me to do you first, or…how do you want it?” he asked, making sure to speak as softly as she did.
“Um, I think I’ll go first, I mean…” She closed her eyes and regrouped. “I mean, you can do me first, and then I’ll try you.”
He nodded. “Or, just throwing this out there…” He cocked his head to the side. “We could do each other at the same time. It may alleviate some of the pressure and anxiety you have…you know, if you’re receiving pleasure at the same time.”
“Oh yeah.” She nodded in agreement, as if it were a novel idea. “That could work, okay. How do you want me to lie down?”
“You tell me. Whatever and however you want, baby. We can do a sideways 69 or the traditional way with me on my back, your pussy over my face or, if you were feeling a bit more adventurous, I could, uh,”—he pointed across the room—“lay you on the ground or we could take it into the Red Room.”
She grinned, then lightly laughed. “Well, I think we better take a more traditional route going into this. Let’s just do it the regular way.”
“Okay, baby.” Saint sighed and leisurely got on his back, not wanting to appear too needy, too excited. He gripped the sheets in anticipation, balling them tightly in his fists, craving her pussy so badly. Soon, her lovely ass hovered over his face. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, locking her into place. “Honey…”
“Yes.” She gently ran her fingers over his dick.
“Do as you wish. If you just want to look at it while I pleasure you, you can. If you don’t want to look at it at all, you can close your eyes… Just do whatever feels good to you right now, okay?” He couldn’t help but offer a little advice; it was the therapist in him, and it would prove important to both of them that this be successful.
“Okay,” she said. “Thanks.”
He gulped as he felt her wrap her hands around the base of it. Even something so everyday elicited a groan from him. She hadn’t touched his dick in such a long time—that alone sent his arousal through the roof.
“Mmmmmm…” he moaned as he felt her warm mouth on the head, engulfing it. He squeezed her ass cheeks in an involuntary response. “Oh Xenia…damn baby…” Soon after, his mouth was too full to let her know how she was completely driving him wild.
“Ahhhhh!” She began to pump her hips, driving her pussy further into his face. He savored it, taking her closer, lightly flicking his tongue all over her garden. “Ahhhhh!” she cried again.
“Feels good, baby?” He paused briefly to check on her, then saw her nod before she went back to dining on his cock. He found himself slightly disturbed that his typically drenching wet bride was barely lubricated. Instead of focusing on that too much, though, he upped his game, hoping to solve that issue once and for all as he plunged his stiffened tongue deep within her, making her buck and scream out. He felt her shake and quake within his grip, which turned him on even further.
“Mmmmm!” He began to slightly pump his hips, pushing a bit more of himself into her hot, wet mouth. “Oh yes, baby!” he yelled before shoving his tongue back within her, feeling her wetness slightly increase.
Come on, baby… It’s me, Saint, your mate. Come back to me. Cum back to me…
He continued on and then, abruptly, she pulled the plug on the encounter.
“Saint…stop.” She dragged herself from him and glared at him from over her shoulder. He couldn’t quite describe it, but her twisted, confused facial expression wounded his heart.
“What’s wrong, Xenia?” He glided his finger along her saturated pussy lips…but he knew it was mostly from his own saliva. When he slid his tongue across his mouth, he hated that he couldn’t taste her sweetness along it.