by Jayna Vixen
***
No one had ever looked forward to Monday detention the way Dax did that weekend. He nodded and tried to look appropriately cowed at the disappointed sermon he received from Mr. Bodecker, but he wasn’t really listening. He had dodged a bullet when Maxwell decided to forgo his suspension in favor of detention. Bodecker warned him that he wouldn’t tolerate fighting. Three strikes and he was out, just like a criminal. Chalk up strike one.
Well, it was worth it to Dax. All he could think about was Trisha Wagner. Why on earth had she risked her squeaky-clean reputation to stand up for him? Her behavior made absolutely no sense. His mind was stuck on the girl. He couldn’t get her out of his damn head. Trish started to appear in his dreams and he was embarrassed to wake up covered in the sticky evidence of his nocturnal emissions. Sheepishly, he stripped the bed, and muddled through the school day. Dax smiled as he slipped into his seat for first period English. He completed his work quickly and accurately, much to the surprise of his teacher. For Dax, doing the work was a way to keep his mind occupied, and his raging boner down.
He was on pins and needles when he showed up to detention. It was held in the school library—a place he had rarely set foot in. A flowery scent wafted to his nostrils and his whole body went on alert, as if his very cells could sense her presence before he even saw her. Dax shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to look cool, pretending not to notice her. Then, a hand jostled his arm, forcing his attention. He hoped she couldn’t see the perverted thoughts that were suddenly running uncontrollably through his fevered adolescent male brain. He swallowed, unable to look directly at her. It would be like staring at the sun.
“What, no thank you?”
Her voice was accusatory and he felt guilt wash over him. Dax froze until he finally met her eyes, and then he found himself breaking into a broad grin. Her hands were on her hips, her chin jutting obstinately with her mock outrage. Then, Trisha Wagner winked at him. And Dax fell hard. So hard. He never even knew what hit him until it was gone.
***
After the detention stint, Trish wasn’t about to lose momentum. She doubled up on the studying and volunteering. She was in a bunch of those silly clubs, like Save the Whales or whatever, but they didn’t seem so silly anymore. The girl wanted to be a doctor! To Dax, doctors were quacks who would give you a quick exam, pretend not to see the bruising on your ribs, and send you right back to another horrible fake family. But Trish, she wanted to be a pediatrician. Work with kids. Help them. It was yet another trait that drew him to her. That, and the searing physical attraction that he felt for her. Plus, she was good for him. He could only hope that if he became a better person, he’d be good enough for her.
The look of disappointment on Mrs. B.’s face the evening he had waltzed in, high from his interaction with Trish in detention, had deflated him somewhat. He had received another long lecture from Mr. B., and instead of his usual sardonic response, he had nodded quietly, and agreed with the man. For the first time, Dax considered that Bodecker was right. He should be grateful for his opportunities. He would do better. He promised. And he did.
Dax’s grades soared that year, much to the surprise of the faculty, student body, and his foster family. He was kind of surprised, himself. I’m not some dummy, he thought proudly, allowing himself a secret smile over his last report card. He was no valedictorian, but he went from straight C’s to B’s. Even though he was distracted as hell by her presence, it was hard not to learn around Trish. Her parents were strict and she wasn’t allowed to date or hang out much, but they let her have as much time as she wanted at the local library. He was beyond shocked when she asked him to join her there. Me study?!
Dax felt more than a little ridiculous the first time he walked through the heavy glass doors of the library, his ratty backpack slung over his shoulder. But, anything was worth it to bask in the light that seemed to surround Trisha Wagner. Eventually, he came to like the library because it often housed the only person who seemed to genuinely take interest in him. Trish invited his company. She complimented him. She laughed at his silly jokes. A part of Dax’s heart that he had thought had died off long ago began to open and flower under Trish’s tutelage and attention. He felt more relaxed than he had ever felt. For the first time in his life, he felt like someone liked him. The real him.
Even though things seemed to be working in his favor for once, Dax was slowly being driven insane. He had gone from a gawky, half-grown kid to an intense, brooding young man, all in the space of a semester. Even though he was still thin, and several inches shy of his adult height, the burning, possessive, carnal desires of a full-grown male had suddenly exploded in his body. He tried desperately to reign in his urges, and at times he had to feign confusion over a math problem because he couldn’t get the sexual images out of his head. He was learning to control his cock, but most of the time it seemed to operate with a mind of its own, stiffening at the most inopportune times. All he could think about was Trish’s smile and the way her skin might feel beneath his hands. Her scent drove him mad as they bent over their textbooks. He would do anything to be around her, even homework.
She was worth it, though. Sneaking a glance at Trish, he could see that she was immersed in thought this afternoon. Her lower lip stuck out as she chewed the end of her pencil. For some reason, the sight of her small white teeth worrying the pink eraser sent a jolt of heat straight into his pants. He let out a low gasp as he lengthened to full mast right there in his jeans. Trish looked up questioningly, and he felt himself flush. There was absolutely no logical reason this beautiful girl should want to be his friend, so how could he assume she would want anything more? She was naturally smart, came from a good family, and with her looks, she could have her pick of the popular, rich jocks.
Dax couldn’t just sit there, with telltale fluid beginning to leak into his boxers, so he stood up, shifting uncomfortably.
“What?”
“Huh? Nothing.” He looked around, seeking a distraction from his raging hard-on.
“Want to take a break?”
“Yeah, sure.” He was practically sweating with the mental effort it took to will his boner away as they gathered their books and headed to a small coffee shop next to the library.
“Want something?” Trish gestured to the case of baked goods.
Dax was starving. His body was on constant alert around this girl, and for some reason, he felt even hungrier than usual when he was around her. But, he didn’t have any money, and he didn’t want her to know that. “Nope.”
“Well, I am. Split something with me?”
Dax shrugged and looked away. He wished he had a few bucks. Trisha Wagner deserved to be taken out to fancy restaurants, and treated like a queen. He sank into one of the easy chairs and watched her order a snack. Her ass was so round and perfect in her expensive jeans. His breath caught as she looked over her shoulder at him, and smiled. When she smiled at him, it was like she saw him, the real him, straight into his soul, and liked what she saw. While part of him rejoiced at the idea, the rational part of his brain struggled with the notion that someone actually liked and accepted him. How could that be? Especially her?!
An hour later, her phone buzzed. “It’s my Dad. He’s picking me up in a few minutes. Dax-I wish I could offer you a ride, but my Dad is a little…strict.”
“No problem.” He hadn’t been expecting a ride. His bike was chained up next to the library. It was only a few miles to his house. Trish’s place was up on the hill, in the richest neighborhood in town. He would have been embarrassed for her to see where he lived anyway. It was nice enough for him, but compared to where she lived he was sure his place was a dump.
They walked back to the library in silence. Dax wondered for the umpteenth time if she liked him. You know, like that. He was happy enough just to be around her, but he wanted more. So much more.
“Hey, asshole! Gold-digging much?”
Dax’s head jerked up as a lifted truck with a custom exhaust p
ulled to the curb. Liam. And he wasn’t alone. Trisha let out a startled yelp as three jocks piled out of the truck and surrounded him. Yeah, he was outnumbered, but they were soft. Dax’s body had been hardened by years of abuse, so he didn’t even feel the first few blows. He fought dirty, seasoned by years in foster care, and he clocked one of them good, knocking him to the ground. Now it was two to one. He thought he could take them, but Liam’s buddy got him in a chokehold, and then Liam scored a swift kick to his stomach. His vision swam, and then someone started yelling for them to break it up. Through his hazy view, he could see the library security officer running towards them. Liam and the other kids piled into the truck and took off. Trish was by his side, and he spat onto the ground, pulling himself into a sitting position.
“Oh my God, Dax! Are you okay?”
He was embarrassed that they had taken him down, but as his vision cleared, he knew he wasn’t seriously injured. In fact, compared to the other beatings he had taken, this one was pretty mild. “Yeah. I’ve seen worse.”
“Wh-what do you mean?!” She stared at him, genuine concern shining in her eyes mirrored by…tears?
“Are you crying?” he ground out, testing his ribs by turning side to side.
“Well, of course I’m crying, Daxter Jamison!”
“Over me?” he whispered softly, wonder and disbelief evident in his voice.
She stared at him for a timeless moment, and then suddenly, everything changed. Dax didn’t have to wonder if Trisha Wagner liked him any longer. No, the way she felt became pretty obvious when she threw herself into his arms right there on the dirty sidewalk, her soft breasts pressing into his chest. Then, her lips were brushing his, as gentle as a butterfly’s wing. Every ache and every pain dissolved beneath the feeling of her mouth on his own. He could taste the sweet honey of her breath and smell the salty tang of her tears. It was his first kiss, and it was magical.
***
That was how her father found them. Entwined on the sidewalk, engaged in a carnal embrace. It wasn’t a good first impression. The blood on his hands probably didn’t help.
“Trishelle Marie Wagner! What the hell are you doing with that boy?!”
Her father was tall, and he looked pretty angry, but nothing could dissuade Dax from the explosion of love in his chest and the near-explosion of something else in his pants. Still, he had seen the look on Mr. Wagner’s face before. It was a look of barely-disguised disgust. The man looked him up and down as he rushed to them and helped Trish to her feet. She seemed reluctant to detach from him, but the frosty glare from her father compelled Dax to give Trisha a gentle push in his direction. She went, casting him a worried glance over her shoulder. Dax slipped into the shadows as soon as her back was turned.
***
Following a long, relieving shower that evening, Dax took a good look at himself in the mirror. He was taller than most of the boys at school. He wasn’t sure of his exact height, but he figured he was approaching six feet. His mother, whose image was permanently burned into his early memories no matter how hard he tried to erase it, was petite. So, his father must have been tall. He had seen a picture of his father once, but he had been sitting on a motorcycle, so it was hard to tell how tall he was. Dax stared at himself critically, taking in the series of scars on his forearms and chest. They were a roadmap of his life and the abuses he had suffered. He knew that the ones on his back were worse. At least he couldn’t see those. Maybe someday, he’d cover them up somehow.
Dax had inherited his mother’s white-blond hair and blue eyes. His hair was kind of spiky and unruly. He kept it a little long so that the length would prevent it from sticking out every which way. His chin was covered in light blond stubble, and he rubbed it absently. He was a skinny, half-grown kid from the wrong side of life. Was he good enough for Trish? He already knew he wasn’t good enough for her family. Dax sighed. Maybe it would be better to just stay away. As it turned out, his noble intentions did nothing to prevent their relationship…or the heartache that it eventually caused him.
***
The Bodeckers didn’t give birthday gifts but each kid got a cake with candles. Dax wasn’t looking forward to the singing and attention. He was seventeen now. One more year to figure out what he was going to do after he aged out of foster care. His birthday had never been special. In fact, most often, it had been forgotten. He recalled the first time he realized that birthdays were supposed to be a big deal. It was first grade. Jimmy’s mommy brought cupcakes and everyone sang. Later, they did a craft where students cut out and decorated a cake with candles and wrote in their birthday for the wall. Dax was the only student who didn’t know his own birthday.
The memories made him feel angry and resentful, but he smiled mechanically, blew out his candles, and ducked out with a lame excuse that he had to go to the library. An hour later, he and Trish were at school of all places. Underneath the football bleachers. Seeing her was the best gift he could have asked for. When she lifted her sweater over her head and unbuttoned her bra, his mouth went dry.
“You don’t have to do this…”
“Dax, I-I want to,” she explained shyly.
Gingerly, he brought his shaking teenaged hands to the first set of tits he had ever laid eyes on. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, his hands somehow knowing instinctively to be gentle, then insistent. He palmed her breasts, hefting them in his hands, feeling her nipples harden, hearing her gasp with surprise and delight. He looked at her, questioningly, and at her nod of assent, he took one rosy peak into his warm mouth, tasting the bud with his tongue. He was startled at the low moan that wafted to his ears, and he brought his head up to look at her.
“Was that okay?”
“Oh, God, Dax…please do that again.”
Her voice was husky as she pulled his head down to her breasts. Dax was dizzy with emotion and physical yearning. He paused briefly, trying to remember if anyone had ever touched him this way, with love and longing rather than anger. He was so hard it hurt but he focused on her soft, breathy moans as he trailed kisses from her collarbone down to her nipples, then slowly ran his tongue to her navel. Dax was on fire, and his hands moved of their own accord, demonstrating the sexual dominance that was coming to life in his teenaged body. He touched her with a kind of male certainty, listening to her sounds and paying close attention to her body’s response to his touch. Before he knew it, he was rubbing between her thighs, feeling the damp heat that emanated from her core. Her legs fell open, and as he suckled her nipple rhythmically into his mouth, pressing the heel of his palm urgently into her through her leggings, she stiffened, and cried out his name.
He stopped immediately, breathing hard, his erection throbbing painfully with his need for his own release. “I-I’m sorry…”
“Jesus!” she panted. “Don’t be sorry!” Trish peeked at him from beneath her heavily-fringed lashes. “Um, it’s your birthday but you gave me a gift. I never, um, did that before.”
He smiled, a lazy, lop-sided grin that would later make all manner of hearts break. “So I made you, uh-”
“Come. You made me come. For the very first time,” she admitted. “Now,” she looked meaningfully at the obvious bulge in his jeans. “What are we going to do with that?”
Dax swallowed hard. He didn’t want to force her to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with, and Trish said she had never seen a guy’s thing. Trish nodded at his desperate, questioning look, then waited expectantly as he knelt over her and slowly unzipped his jeans. At the time, Dax didn’t know that he was, well, big. Neither did Trish. They had nothing to compare him to. But it didn’t matter. Her eyes grew wide as he sprang out, fully erect, a pearly drop glistening on the tip of his virgin cock.
He didn’t last long. When her small fingers wrapped around the hot, hard flesh and moved experimentally up and down, he gasped aloud, and a minute later, shot his load all over her hand. He grunted his pleasure, first embarrassed and then surprised as Trish, smart, beautiful Trish, grinn
ed at him devilishly and licked her fingertips before wiping her arm on the grass.
So began a whirlwind teenaged romance that lasted all the way to senior year. They were young, certainly, but they were in love.
***
Dax had never pictured himself at prom. He had never pictured himself as an athlete either, but with Trish’s encouragement, he had reluctantly tried out for the surf team. Even though his secondhand board was waterlogged and full of imperfectly sealed cracks in the fiberglass, he was secretly pleased that he excelled at the sport. Darling had some decent waves but it was a long walk down a steep cliff very early in the morning to catch them. A few of the rich boys were on the team, but as he later found out, they weren’t so square. They would head out before dawn to catch an early morning session at the cove, and then spark up a couple of doobies on the way to class. A quick shower, and some Visine, and no one was the wiser. The weed calmed Dax; it enabled him to blot out the blatant insults and ribbing from the other jocks. If Trish noticed, she never said anything.
Dax didn’t expect to like surfing. He had never really spent time on a beach. But, he found that he liked the sand beneath his bare feet and the sound of the water. Surfing was a strange kind of therapy for Dax. He liked the quiet that surrounded him when he paddled out, and the lonesome tranquility that permeated his soul when he waited for a set. He was alone out there, but he was one with some kind of energy that hummed through his body and mind. When he harnessed it, catching a wave with fluid grace, and riding it, he felt a peace he had never known. And when the water was choppy or rough, and he was tossed around like a ragdoll, he was able to truly let go, letting the elements take him for a ride, knowing that only the ocean knew where he would end up.