Three Hundred Words

by Cross, Adelaide

  Millie and I stood a couple of steps apart, just waiting for the game to begin. In professional matches, it was a best of three games where each game was the first to twenty-one points; for the purposes of this tournament, we were only playing one game. They normally lasted about twenty minutes, which meant nearly two hours of actual playing time. I didn’t know if my body could physically take that much.

  Or if my brain could concentrate on where I was actually hitting things for that long, either.

  When the bell rang, I stepped up to the net, shuttlecock ready to serve. This was the thing I was good at – I’d practised and I knew I could do it.

  My first one soared right into the net.

  I stared at it in horror, getting ready to panic. If the second one missed and I managed to lose us a point in the first two seconds of the game then I’d never recover.

  Luckily, it peaked just over the net like I’d intended, and the game had begun.

  The girl diagonal to me fired it back easily enough, but Millie was ready and landed a spectacular drop-shot that they obviously hadn’t been expecting. I grinned, but that was only the first point and we still had a long way to go – not only in this game, but in the entire game.

  Shockingly enough, we got to twenty-twenty in our first game. I’d done nothing spectacular, just hit some normal shots and let Millie do all the work. My serves had been good, but I wasn’t feeling overly confident about my game in general and neither was she. Our opponents fist bumped after every point, win or loss, and it was obvious they’d picked that up from the pros.

  Millie and I didn’t have any kind of interaction like that.

  We moved straight onto the next point and I was forced to acknowledge there hadn’t been a lot of teamwork.

  It was my serve for the final point.

  And I smashed it. A corner shot that the girl diagonal to me could have never reached. For the first time, Millie and I shared a grin. “Nice work,” she praised, taking our sheet to be filled in by the umpire after we’d shaken hands with the now incredibly sullen girls we’d been playing against.

  “Yeah, you carried me through, though.” There was no point in denying it.

  Our next match was even better, taking home a victory with six points to spare.

  It was almost a shame we had to swap partners after that; Millie and I had found a pretty good rhythm. No doubt she’d be just as good with someone else, though.

  And hopefully my new partner, Lorna, and I would pull through.

  We didn’t. Our chemistry was awful on the court and even though I managed some decent returns myself we lost both games. They weren’t complete annihilations, but it was enough to make Lorna shoot glare after glare at me throughout the match.

  Going back to our team was embarrassing, but from our results, it didn’t look like anyone was dominating the rest of the field. It was all a bit of a mixed bag.

  So Rhianne and I still had a chance to help us bring home the tournament. Unfortunately, Rhianne was also the person friends with Luke. She sent me a piercing dead-eye as we moved towards our court. “Just please stay out of my way and let me handle this.”

  I nodded, scratching the back of my head and really hoping I wasn’t going to ruin this for everyone. It turned out we actually had a shot of winning.

  I served as perfectly as I had all tournament and hoped that might be enough to impress her. It wasn’t. She just had her head completely in the game and I supposed that was the best thing.

  She carried me in spectacular fashion. Taking most of the shots on my side of the court and leaving me to deal with any outliers that she just couldn’t quite reach. Even when the opponents targeted me, Rhianne was there to cover my horrid attempts. I hit one winner in nearly fifty points.

  And yet we won both games.

  Rhianne was good.

  And so when we went back to the team when the bell had rung, there was silent confidence in the camp. We’d beaten a lot of pairs.

  “An excellent tournament, girls,” the organiser droned on and I blocked her out. If we managed to lose this I’d probably be shunned for a lifetime. If the other girl had played they’d have won by a mile.

  “And in first place, the girls from High Borough Community School!”

  We stood up and cheered and even I was included in the hug. Our captain went to collect the small plaque we got in reward and I was forced to accept I was going to have to repeat this trauma at a national scale in another two weeks.

  Still, for now I was riding the high all the other girls were. We’d won the county tournament and, even though I was by far the worst player, without me they couldn’t have done it.

  I grinned myself silly and noticed Mr. Lane was grinning himself silly, too. We really had beat those snobby little bitches who looked down on us.

  I clasped the straps of my bag and trailed behind the girls as we exited the hall, plenty of harsh stares on our backs. Our coach had definitely made all the difference.

  Mr. Lane stuck by my side, but we didn’t speak. It was understood he’d be giving me a lift home again whilst the other girls travelled with the coach.

  Nothing could bring myself to hate that arrangement, I was just too happy right now.

  I slipped into his passenger seat and Mr. Lane followed suit. For the first time since we’d arrived at the school, he spoke to me. “Congratulations on the win.”

  Part of me wanted to argue that I’d really not done anything to contribute, but I beamed instead. “Thank you.”

  “Time to get practising for the National Finals then!” He sent me a teasing grin.

  I shook my head instantly. “No way. Don’t go trying to make me worry so much it ruins my good mood. Just praise me on my glorious win.”

  “It was a fantastic win,” he started up the engine and we were on our way home. “Your serving was quite excellent.”

  He’d followed me around every single court, no matter how suspicious it might have looked. I had been incredibly flattered, if not completely mortified by how poorly I’d played. “Why thank you. It is kind of you to say so.”

  Mr. Lane chuckled to himself. “Do you have plans for the evening? Lots of celebration?”

  “I doubt it. I don’t think I’m the first thing on my parents’ minds at the moment. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d forgotten I’m even playing today.” I hadn’t seen either of them when I was walking out the door this morning. My dad wasn’t in the house at all, I was sure – probably staying with his not-so-secret lover.

  “Ah, well, you’re always welcome to come and celebrate at mine.”

  It was a brave move, to say something like that when we were only ten minutes into an hour long drive, but he’d dared to anyway. It was a good job my ecstatic mood was quite impenetrable. It made it easy to say “I’d like that,” without letting any of the sadness and guilt seep in.

  I didn’t have a boyfriend anymore, and that was a good enough argument for me in the moment.

  Mr. Lane’s eyebrows shot up, but he certainly didn’t question me. “Good.”

  And just like that, the temperature in the car seemed to ramp up a notch. I’d done an awfully good job of keeping the intimate images from my mind all day, especially after what Mr. Lane had done just before we’d arrived, but now they all came flooding back.

  Mr. Lane’s hands running up my thighs, us skin-to-skin, flush up against each other.

  My cheeks burned and Mr. Lane was watching me unabashedly with an intense stare and that only made my skin hotter.

  His hand moved from the gearstick to my thigh. We were on a straight road now and he wasn’t going to need to touch it again.

  My entrance, however, which was quickly becoming slick definitely required attention. As his nails dragged up the exposed skin of my thigh, I leant my head backwards and shut my eyes.

  I was beyond glad he was willing to finish the job he’d started earlier.

  His fingers slipped up my shorts, despite the tight material, and ba
rely brushed against my swollen clit. I let out the tiniest whine, brushing his hands away so that I could pull down the shorts and give him complete access.

  There was no reason anyone should be able to look into the window and I was desperate enough to not really care. I’d have my eyes shut, anyway.

  He returned his hand as soon as my shorts were around my ankles and I spread my legs wide. This was a stupid idea, really. He should have been concentrating on the road, but neither of us cared.

  We were both far too horny, far too consumed by finally being close to each other again, to care about whether it was dangerous.

  When there was a blaring car horn from the left side, I was forced to open my eyes and Mr. Lane slammed his hand back onto the steering wheel. He cleared his throat and his cheeks were pink. “I think maybe we should find somewhere to pull up, instead.” His cock twitched against his tented trousers and I was forced to agree. “You could play with yourself until we get there, though.”

  I grinned, slipping my own hand between my spread thighs and giving him a good show. I made sure to moan far more than was necessary so he didn’t feel the need to look at what I was doing instead of the road.

  I was definitely saving myself for when we found somewhere to stop the car.

  Mr. Lane had sped up and we took the next exit, pulling off onto a small country lane. It was practically deserted as it was, but we went a little bit further, turning on a single file track before coming across a pull in point. It definitely looked quiet enough – there wasn’t a house for miles around and it wasn’t the time of year to be doing anything in the fields.

  I didn’t hesitate before climbing over the gear stick and placing myself in Mr. Lane’s lap, rubbing my exposed crotch against his still covered erection. Groans spilled from both our mouths as we rushed to get intimate as quickly as possible. I lifted myself, wanting to Mr. Lane out of his trousers, but my back hit the horn.

  My cheeks burned from embarrassment, but Mr. Lane only chuckled, moving his seat backwards so that it wouldn’t happen again.

  And then our intimacy was back. Heat had flooded me completely, every inch of my body sensitive as Mr. Lane ran dominating hands over my thighs. I pulled off his belt with a lot of struggle – I was rushing so much that it actually made the process slower, and my hands practically quivered with desire as I urged his cock out of his pants.

  There was no need for much foreplay, just hurried, desperate kisses and his cock slipping into my entrance without resistance.

  I groaned, fingers digging into his shoulders as I began to move up and down on his length as much as the space of the car allowed. Lifting up and then slamming back down, my cries were of complete ecstasy.

  Mr. Lane knew how to bring me right to the edge. He excited me in every way and I longed for that so, so much.

  His hands gripped my ass tight it would leave finger bruises as he aided my movements, face buried in my neck as I bounced up and down erratically.

  When he was getting close, his fingers dipped back to their original destination of my clit. He worked it with just enough pressure to make me want to scream.

  After a few moments, I did. My climax rocked through me, tearing a loud moan from my mouth as my eyes screwed shut. Mr. Lane released his load inside me and we were both left to catch our breaths, our bodies in complete unity as I came down from my high.

  I grinned into his neck, unsure if it was possible for me to feel any happier. If I was allowed to do this every day without consequence, nothing could bring me down.

  As it was, I was forced to pull away press a chaste kiss to his lips. “This has definitely been a fun detour.”

  Mr. Lane beamed at me, his face flushed from the exertion and he lavished a longer, more drawn out kiss onto my lips. I hummed in content. “It definitely was. We should probably get going, though. Come on.”

  I slipped back into my own seat and cringed when I felt the sticky liquid drooling out of my entrance. I opened his glove box and was relieved to find a packet of tissues. “I’m guessing you don’t want this dripping onto your car.”

  Mr. Lane looked horrified as I attempted to clean myself up. I offered him a tissue for his own mess, wondering why on Earth I wasn’t mortified by this. I really should have been, but for some reason it was just an amusing end to a perfect session of sex.

  Mr. Lane didn’t do anything that would have made me at all self-conscious.

  I held out the tissues when I was finished, really not wanting to just throw them out the window, but no fancying carrying them all the way back to his house, either. “Tissues degrade like, really quickly, right? Especially with all the rain we’ve got going on.”

  He looked equally as unimpressed by the idea, but just shrugged. “I think so, yeah. Just lob them.”

  We both giggled as I threw the semen covered tissues out the window, shaking our heads and getting lost in the moment.

  This evening would definitely be a night to remember.

  Chapter Nine

  “Honey, we have to talk about something.”

  Seeing my parents in the same room together was worrying enough, but I knew what was coming out of this meeting and it wasn’t good news. “Your father and I…” my mum looked almost in tears just having to approach the subject and my dad sat by her side, as stoic as ever. “We’re going to be getting a divorce.”

  It wasn’t like I hadn’t been expecting it. What other solution was there? “Okay.” My voice was emotionless and I stared straight between the two of them.

  What else was there to say? They were going to do it and I was going to have to deal with it. That was all. “We just… thought you should know.”

  I tugged on the end of my badminton kit. They could have timed in a bit better. “Well, now I do know. Thank you for telling me.” I stood up, grabbing my rucksack and heading towards the door, even though it was going to leave me at least twenty minutes early. “I’ve got to head off for this tournament. I’ll see you later, whichever of you is around.”

  They both opened their mouths to argue and I paused, waiting for their words, but nothing came out. And so I left.

  It was a long walk to school and normally I’d have caught the bus, but today I welcomed the misery of plodding one foot after the other with my headphones blasting music so loud it would probably do permanent damage.

  That was perfect for this situation where I felt like my entire life was falling apart around me.

  What was I going to do at Christmas, when the three of us didn’t sit down and have crackers and presents and my parents always managed to get some part of the Christmas dinner horribly wrong? Who was I going to live with? Who was going to be living where?

  I wrapped my arms around myself and I realised I’d forgotten my jacket.

  I was pretty numb anyway, the cold probably wouldn’t make much difference.

  It was lucky I didn’t wear much make-up to play badminton, because it would have been smeared all over my face from the amount of times I’d rubbed my eyes. I’d been doing it to desperately stop any tears, but my eyes had become so red and sore anyway that it probably didn’t matter.

  I may as well have just shrivelled up on one of the benches and let myself sob until I didn’t have any tears left.

  Still, I pushed through and made it to school. My walk had been so slow-going that I ended up being almost on time anyway. Mr. Lane was already waiting in the sports hall, attempting to shoot basketball hoops. He wasn’t being overly successful.

  I attempted to walk back out of the room and hide in the toilets or something, but Mr. Lane had spotted me and so I was forced to take a seat on the floor and watch him. He dropped the basketball and came to stand in front of me with a concerned face. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

  I’d avoided Mr. Lane for two weeks. I’d told him I was practising for badminton at every waking moment, which was technically true, but I’d also been putting off making a decision as to what we could do about our predicament.
/>   I was putting off telling him that we really had to stop.

  Getting caught up and lost in the moment was one thing, but we had to avoid the moment in the first place. It was stupid and wrong and dangerous. And then there was all other feelings tied up in there with self-hatred and the guilt that swarmed me every time I looked at Luke.

  Still, he’d moved on to someone else already and so that made me feel slightly better. Even if she was a rebound, he’d be over me in no time. I just really hoped I hadn’t done any permanent damage to his attitude in relationships, because I was certain I’d changed mine forever.

  “My parents are getting divorced.” There was no point in lying to him. The words felt dry in my mouth. I never wanted to have to repeat them. I didn’t want them to be real. “They just told me.”