by Rowena
Our flight leaves later this evening, so I have almost two hours before I have to meet up with the others for the ride to the airport.
“You want to see my room?” I ask.
She gives me a wry look.
“Subtle, Abe.”
“Well, you’ve never been there before and since I can’t really hang out in yours, come see if my place is somewhere you can see yourself hanging out in now that we’re out in the open.”
Her face relaxes into a smile as she nods.
“You’re shitting me—you live here? Wait, this… are those massage chairs? In your lounge?”
I grin at her reactions.
My dorm isn’t exactly standard. Bentley Hall is pretty pimped out for the sake of sweetening the pot for certain prospective students—students like me, in particular.
“One of the perks of being a student athlete,” I say.
“No, but this is like a frickin’ luxury hotel or something!”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
I decide making love to her can wait a little longer and give her a tour of the residence.
Her mouth pretty much stays hanging open as she sees the movie theatre, the game rooms, the gym.
It stays hanging open as she takes in the rooftop pool and Jacuzzi, the spa.
She is in absolute disbelief that we have our very own chef. Maid service.
Soon, I start thinking of shoving my cock between those parted lips of hers.
“And now for the grand finale,” I say, leading her toward my room.
“How is this fair?” she asks wondrously.
“Well, we bring a lot with us when we attend, so I think it’s pretty fair. As a result of us, the school gets all kinds of prestige and makes a lot of money.”
“I didn’t mean to imply… ”
“I know. But people tend to forget or overlook how much we’ve worked to get here and resent the perks we busted our asses for.”
“I understand,” she says humbly. “I actually do look forward to watching you play someday; I want to see the moves that get you a concierge for your dorm and free drinks 24-hrs a day.”
I can’t help but smile wide at that.
Once I open my door, my thoughts quickly shift.
Maddy isn’t even wearing anything sexy—she never has to in order to get me going. Her flesh isn’t exposed in a way that stirs my imagination, none of her tempting feminine parts are on lewd display. Just feeling the way I do about her makes me want her more than anything. Watching her shy smile, her warm brown eyes, the familiarity of her soft essence turns me the fuck on.
All I want is to be a part of her in so many ways, and in this base sense, I partially accomplish that goal.
I close my door behind us, and she is completely unaware of my immediate intent as she glances around my pimped-out room, furnished with state-of-the-art appliances, the latest video game consoles, comfy furniture.
While her eyes are taking in my 48” flat screen, my eyes are helping me decide which part of her outfit to attack first.
I spin her to face me, and her impressed look quickly shifts to one of realization as it becomes clear to her I’m about to ravish her.
“Um, are these walls… ?”
“It’s up to you to be as quiet as you can. The walls aren’t thin, but I’ll probably make you scream.”
She swallows hard before she smiles. “We’ll see about that,” she says lightly.
I love her fake bravery, but I can feel her trembling already.
I go for her top first, pulling it off in one swift motion.
“Oh,” she says in surprise as I toss it, all signs of her previous confidence and bravery vanishing.
Despite what looks like an instinctively protective cross of her arm over her chest, I make sure her bra quickly follows.
“You’re okay, right?” I ask once it looks like she’s actually worried.
She nods but still looks a bit frightened as I start shedding my own clothes.
My eyes stay on her face as I strip down.
“I just… you’re… ”
“Yours,” I say, guessing at what has her shaken—she’s overwhelmed.
She’s still so new to all this, and being trapped here with me, on my territory, knowing I’m in control like this, shakes her. Right now, she has to trust herself to my hands.
I hope she’s not worried about being used—she has to know what we have is far more than the physical. She has to know how I feel about her.
I help her out of her jeans while she tries and fails to keep her eyes away from my thick, erect cock.
It must be awkward for her—me standing here completely naked, inescapable evidence of my need practically in her face with our height difference, while she’s still partially clothed.
Though not for long.
“Abe,” she whispers as I pick her up to deposit her on my bed and cover her with my body.
“Yes, Maddy?” I say patiently, though my cock is raging at me to bury it inside her immediately.
Her mouth moves a little—like she’s trying to force some words out and they’re refusing to cooperate.
“Maddy?”
“I’m not on the pill or anything, you know,” she says hoarsely.
Part of me doesn’t believe that’s what she meant to say, while most of me is a tiny bit disappointed she didn’t say something else—something I didn’t realize I wanted to hear.
But most of me is too fogged by desire and driven by lust to examine any of it.
“I don’t care,” I say as I plant my broad body between her slim legs, positioning the tip of my throbbing cock at her slick entrance.
I rub the head over her heated core, picking up some of her wetness before pushing inside her, not stopping until I’m buried all the way in her tight, warm depths, to the hilt.
“We’ll deal with anything that happens,” I say before moving inside her with long, deep strokes.
I briefly worry my preoccupation with Maddy will affect my performance, and though I miss her by the time we start the ride to the airport, and throughout the short flight, when I touchdown in Indianapolis, I pretty much immediately shift to a different mode.
I have trained for this event for a long time, and my body is programmed to do what it’s supposed to do in front of all these scouts and coaches.
As for my mind, I want to succeed even more; I want to impress Maddy, even though I know she doesn’t exactly care for sports and probably only thinks of quarterbacks in terms of vending machines.
Still, I want to be successful—I want her to be proud of me.
I find myself energized in a different way over the days of drills and tests, the displays of strength and endurance. All the simmering emotions in me find a suitable outlet here, and I’m suddenly working at next-level beast mode.
“Ho.ly. Fuck. You’re killing it out there,” one of my fellow competitors says after the interview portion.
All I can do is grin.
My feelings for a particular quiet, beautiful woman—everything I haven’t said to her yet, my need to protect her, and even residual anger at Beth for hurting her—all of it combines into potent fuel.
When it’s all over, I don’t even need to hear it—I know my likelihood for being drafted in a few months just skyrocketed.
I can’t wait to tell Maddy about the trip, and again, I am struck by the happiness I’m capable of feeling as I think about the plane back to Maddy tomorrow morning.
I run through various ways of greeting her when I return—another visit to an arboretum, a celebration dinner, an aimless drive. All ending with her legs wrapped around me as I pump her with my seed.
I go to bed early so that morning arrives faster.
A fitful night of sleep leads to a strange morning as I awaken with what feels like a ball of dread in my stomach.
It lasts throughout the flight and even as we return to campus, despite how excited I am to see Maddy again.
I know she’s in class right now, and I’m unpacking when I hear a knock on my door.
I don’t like the look on Cody’s face when I open it.
“Oh, boy,” I say. “What is it?”
I learn I made a terrible mistake underestimating Bethany as Cody fills me in, explaining why I thought I was getting some extremely weird looks from a few people I don’t know, as well as some I’m mildly acquainted with.
Apparently, I picked up some strange disease from Maddy—something she picked up from a hippie commune she used to be a part of.
“It’s not exactly a picture of a dead parent,” Cody says, “but there you have it. Phase Two or whatever of Beth’s revenge. If I didn’t know you, I might believe it too—even if it’s just because it sounds so damn juicy. But yeah. Apparently, the reason Maddy transferred here, and the reason you got exposed to this weird disease is because Maddy’s freak group had few men, lots of women, and lots of sharing. Oh, incest too—I forgot the best part. Maddy may or may not have had an… ungodly relationship with her brother.”
“Well, damn. That’s an ambitious story,” I say, shaking my head.
“And you’d think people would see it for what it is, but they don’t. I overheard some saying that it explains her weird hairstyles. ‘It’s always the quiet ones…’ ”
It’s one thing if it’s just me, but thinking about Maddy being hurt fills me with rage.
Poor Madison.
I can handle this shit pretty easily, but Maddy is the unpopular one, the odd girl. She’ll get the brunt of the weird looks and conclusions, and they’ll probably be impossible to shake.
Maddy never asked for any of this—she just wanted to live in peace, do what she came here to do then quietly leave and get on with, no doubt, a calm life.
Look what I’ve done to her.
I might have spared her from darkness in my own life way back then, but I’m failing her now.
9
Madison
Diary Entry #112
I still remember my first day of public school, as clear as if it were yesterday.
After being home-schooled through the age of nine, I was seized with anxiety over being away from my mother the whole day, surrounded by all sorts of strangers, from kids to grownups.
It felt like everyone was looking at me—like they could easily see all the ways I wasn’t like them, physically and otherwise.
The physical difference was obvious—my look is somewhere between one familiar thing and another, not one thing that can be pinned down easily.
Later, it took the form of people asking if I was Hispanic or Arabic.
No one could place me easily, but they sure tried.
And then there was the fact that I hadn’t been with them for a while. Some of them already knew each other in a way for years, having returned to the same school year after year. So many dynamics and relationships already established.
I was the new girl. The weirdo who didn’t even go to real school for several years—although they learned quickly I wasn’t at an academic disadvantage; in fact, I was quite far ahead.
No one could knock my previous schooling when I outscored the vast majority of them, and it wasn’t long before I became known as ‘one of the smart ones.’ One of the nerds.
I didn’t talk much; I tried to be as invisible as possible until I could get a better feel for my surroundings, the personalities.
I have always preferred to observe.
I did pick up a friend, thankfully—an easygoing girl who made my transition easier.
I eventually learned she mainly tried to fish out info for others, but she became my friend in the end—right up until my mom and I moved again and I had to do it all over.
Again, I had to move through an unfamiliar place, a potentially hostile environment. Again, I had to endure people staring at me, wondering what I am.
Present Day
I feel like everyone is looking at me.
It’s exactly the way several of my nightmares start, only to end with me discovering I’m walking around with no bottoms on or that I’m not me after all but some chimera or ghost.
Luckily, when I glance down, I see that I’m fully clothed and my fly is up.
I detect nothing embarrassing from what I can see, and I wipe my eyes and slyly swipe at my nose to make sure no stray boogers are hanging out.
Seriously, the last thing I want or need is everyone suddenly noticing me.
Then I realize what it is—the attention must be because I started dating Abe.
Guess I better get used to people checking me out.
When I open my dorm room door, I catch Judy looking guilty, and I realize she had just been going through some of my stuff.
“What the fuck, Judy?”
“I was just… Look, no one wants to live with a weirdo.”
That’s rich, coming from the girl with metal through her nose, the girl whose wardrobe is allergic to color. The girl who looks like she’s dating the Grim Reaper. This girl doesn’t want to live with a weirdo?
“It’s just… I heard some things, and I wanted to make sure. I needed to see if there was any sign what I’ve heard is true.”
Something shifts in me. I guess it’s dread forming.
“What have you heard?” I ask evenly.
“Like, that you were a part of this hippie group, and that you were way too close to your brother or something… ”
It’s so ridiculous, I’m trapped between squawking with laughter and open-mouthed shock for a moment; in fact, I might actually look like a lunatic right now, smiling emptily.
I don’t even have a brother!
“…And you wear your hair crazy long, and no one does that but hippies and cult types… ”
Laughter wins for now.
When I catch myself, I ask, “Who the hell told you this?”
“Like I said, it’s going around.”
“But who would make up… ? Oh, shit, it’s Beth, isn’t it?”
All humor completely disappears as I realize that this is probably the reason I thought I was getting a lot of stares earlier.
“Beth?”
“Bethany McGrath—Abe’s ex. She’s been sort of after me ever since Abe started showing me attention. And now that we’re officially dating, I guess she has upped the ante. ”
“Okay, so once Abe dumped Bethany for you, she’s been doing what exactly?”
“She kind of threatened me when she first suspected he liked me and told me ‘Run away, bitch,’ or something, but then after he and I started actually being together, I found this.”
I reluctantly fetch the manila envelope I hid away and look off to the side as I hand it to her so I don’t have to put the hideous image in my head again.
“Holy fuck,” Judy says as she stares at the photo. “What am I looking at?”
“My mom and me. She had hair like mine, and she died from cancer after losing her hair from unsuccessful chemo. She had all her hair at this time—this image was photoshopped to remove it and make her look like some twisted version of what she eventually became.”
“Damn, that’s cold,” she says, but part of me suspects she likes it as I watch her face. She seems to like all sorts of weird art, and now that I think of it, an image like this is probably right up her alley.
I take it out of her hands gently.
“I figured it couldn’t get much worse than that,” I say, “but apparently, Bethany was nowhere near done with me if she’s the one behind these rumors.”
I tuck the photo back in the envelope, hiding it away again.
“None of them true, by the way, and I can’t believe I have to actually confirm this. I know I’m quiet and I don’t talk about my past, but you and I are like ships passing in the night. Anyway, my life has been nowhere near as exciting as Bethany is making it sound, but it’s no one’s business either, you know? I like my privacy. I like things to be… peaceful.”
“Well, you definitely swatted the wrong ne
st; the hornets are after you. I’m sorry, Madison. I don’t know how you’re gonna deal with this. I suspect things will only get worse.”
I don’t know how I’ll deal with this either.
I’m briefly tempted to start uploading more stuff to my Facebook profile and friending people so they can see how wrong they are, how normal I am.
I have photos of things I ate and places I’ve been, too!
I can prove I was in another college before this, and before that, in high school, just like everyone else.
Damn, I thought keeping a low profile would spare me from this kind of drama, but now it’s working against me. Quiet people are easy to make things up about since no one has information that counteracts it. No one knows anything about me, so they’d believe anything about me.
And I’m an easy target now that I’m with the highly visible, most coveted hunk of our school.
That was my biggest mistake.
How do I fix this? I can’t just transfer to another school again.
I didn’t even really want to go through with college, but I always made excellent grades and got a free ride, so I figured, why not? Having a degree is always a good idea.
But these college years are turning out to be the longest of my life.
I remember wanting to grow up so badly, anxiously awaiting the day I reached legal age and could pretty much do whatever I wanted.
The teen years seemed to stretch on and on, teasing me that I couldn’t really have my own say yet, each painstaking year toward eighteen.
I got an unexpected boost to adulthood when my mom dead, and since then, it seems time has started going slower; I’m still not free somehow.
“If there’s a silver lining or good news or whatever, I don’t think everyone buys the weird disease part,” Judy says.
“Excuse me?”
“The disease you picked up and gave to Abe. You know—since you guys were all big lovin’ and whatnot, and the few guys slept with all the women in the group, but didn’t really ‘keep it in the family,’ so to speak. Well, besides the one… ”
I groan out loud, dropping my head into my hands as I plop my butt onto my bed.