Perfect Collision

by Lina Andersson

Mitch stared at him. “Tell me you didn’t whip it out?”

  “Jesus, no!” He couldn’t help himself; he laughed so hard, and when he finally calmed down he dried his eyes. “I’m not that fucking stupid.”

  “Good. Got worried there for a second. Is this why she’s avoiding the clubhouse?”

  “Think that’s a safe bet.”

  “Seriously, you need to do something. You can’t leave her hanging. You need to at least talk to her.”

  “I know.”

  Of course he knew that. He just had no fucking idea what to say, and he was definitely not convinced he would be able to talk to her without trying to kiss her and freaking her out again. He could hardly think about her without wanting to kiss her. But Mitch was right. He needed to talk to her, it wasn’t right to leave it like this. He decided to do it the next day. Just get it over with.

  -o0o—

  It had been a month since that stupid kiss, and I was still avoiding the clubhouse in general and Mac in particular. I’d also been thinking a lot about sex and the fact that I’d never had it, and—just a lot.

  More than usual.

  A lot more than usual.

  Sex was very confusing to me. I lived around guys who had it all the time. Girls were hanging in the clubhouse, just waiting for one of the men to want them.

  I wasn’t stupid. I knew life wasn’t like in the movies, where people struggled to get together, and the happy ever after with a beautiful sunset behind the kissing couple as the movie ended. From what I could, the kiss wasn’t the end. The kiss was when things started to get complicated. Or when people got married. That seemed to be the really hard stuff—to make it last.

  I felt like I had some idea about relationships, how they worked, or… were supposed to work in theory. The sex part on the other hand… that confused me. Especially how it seemed to be my main focus in life. Which didn’t seem like a very girl thing to think about. Like, when a cute guy walked into the shop, and I immediately thought about him naked. Neither did touching oneself. All that seemed to be more of a guy thing.

  When it all made my head feel like it was about to burst, I waited until Trixie and I were alone at the shop, but before Dad came to pick me up, and then just went for it.

  “This might sound weird, and you can tell me to go fuck myself, but do you… you know… touch yourself?” She looked stunned, and I just kept going without waiting for her to answer. “Just, ‘cause, you know, guys talk about jerking off all the time. How they jizzed all over the bathroom mirror, or jerked off thinking about a girl, or how some girl’s ass is in their spank bank. Girls never talk about it. I’ve never heard a girl say, ‘hey, look at that bulge, I’m gonna put that in my rub scrub.’”

  It bugged me, that guys were so open—too open—about their masturbating, and I’d honestly never heard a girl talking about it. When teachers had talked about in school, it was to tell us it was perfectly natural and nothing to be embarrassed or worried about. Which made me think I probably should worry about it, since apparently everyone else did. I knew it happened in porn, but I found it unlikely the only time a woman masturbated was in front of a camera.

  Once again, I didn’t let Trixie answer. It wasn’t sure if I’d be able to continue and get it all out if I stopped talking now. So I kept going.

  “They talked about it in sex-ed, that it’s normal for guys to jerk off, and then they talked to us girls about our period. They said to the guys that it was okay to be curious about stuff and want to touch girls. And they told us that it was okay to not be ready, to want to wait.”

  That had been so confusing, too. I was curious about sex, I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but I was curious, and no one had said that it was okay for girls to touch themselves and be curious. The only girls that seemed to be really open about wanting to have sex were the sweetbutts at the club and Trixie. And there was no way in hell I’d talk to any of the sweetbutts about sex. I was sure Trixie wouldn’t judge me no matter what I said.

  Before I totally lost my nerve, I got to the last part I really wanted to ask her.

  “Because, I mean, I am curious about stuff, and I do touch myself.” I was whispering. It happened often when I’d planned a speech or was upset. I had a flying start and lost momentum towards the end. “And I’ve never really seen that anywhere, like on TV or in movies. Teenage girls doing… that, or being curious. They’re all nervous and stressed about guys pushing them…” I finally managed to look at Trixie. “Am I a complete freak?”

  She shook her head and took a step towards me.

  “Listen to me, honey. Being curious is normal. Touching yourself is normal, and wanting to touch yourself is normal, too. It’s even good that you do, because it helps you to understand your body and what you like. All of that is normal, no matter if you have a dick or a pussy. I do it, too, and as far as I know, all my girlfriends do.” She put her hands on my cheeks and made me look at her. “I don’t know why no one ever talks about it properly in school, or why they always portray girls as uncertain about sex on TV, but it pisses me off that they do. But you are not a freak! You have a healthy curiosity about sex. I’m glad you masturbate. It’s good that you do. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said after a relieved sigh. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

  “No prob,” she smiled and kissed my forehead. “Wish someone had said it to me when I was your age.” Then she let go of my cheeks, took a step back and laughed. “Look at that bulge, I’m gonna put it in my rub scrub. Where the fuck did that come from?”

  “I don’t know. Dad’s gonna be here soon to pick me up.” I looked at her. “Thank you. I needed to hear those things.” I wasn’t convinced, but at least I knew of one other normal woman who did it.

  “Any time, kid,” she said with a smile.

  Once Dad’d dropped me off at our place, he left for the club. I tried to focus on my homework, which wasn’t all that easy even normally, but lately it’d been even worse. I actually felt glad when I heard the doorbell, because it gave me a reason to give up on my feeble attempts to write an essay about Anne Boleyn.

  I opened the door, and when I saw who it was I choked. Why was he here?

  “Hi, Vi,” Mac said with a smile.

  “Dad isn’t here.”

  “I know. Can I come in?”

  I hesitated and then backed up while opening the door wider. He walked past me, and then turned around to watch me close the door. I clasped my hands in front of me, looking at them. Maybe hearing whatever he had to say would be easier if I kept my focus on them rather than him. I wanted to look at him, but I couldn’t. My head was such a weird place when he was around, and looking at him made it even worse.

  “Vi, I’m really sorry for what I did. It was wrong, and I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  I shook my head. “You didn’t upset me.”

  It didn’t sound as if he’d come to tell me he liked me or to kiss me again. That upset me a little bit, but what he’d done at Wicked Ink, it didn’t upset me. It did other things to me, though. Things I was still trying to understand.

  “Listen, you’re a beautiful girl. I meant that, and one day you’ll make some guy really happy.” He went quiet, but I kept my eyes on my hands, and eventually he continued. “But you’re so much younger, and… and your dad is my brother. He’d kill me. I can’t…”

  I’d never known something could hurt like I was hurting, as if someone was sitting on my chest—it was painful to breathe. My heart was pounding hard enough for me to hear it.

  I’d kinda hoped he’d come to… well, basically anything but what seemed to be the reason for him to be here. Even if it had been just to talk to Dad and completely ignore me, it would still have been better than this.

  The only thing I wanted was that he’d kiss me, just one more time—when I was prepared for it. I wanted one kiss from him that I expected to see if it was different that way. And that he’d call me Katze.

  “Vi, please look at me.”

  Onc
e again I shook my head, but I couldn’t answer. I seemed to have lost the ability to form words, and for the first time I fully understood what ‘tongue-tied’ meant. Because that’s how it felt, as if my tongue was tied down.

  I heard him walk over the floor towards me, and I thought he was leaving, which felt horrible and was a relief at the same time. Then I felt his hand on my cheek, gently tilting my head up. Surprised, I opened my eyes, and the pressure on my chest increased when I stared into his eyes.

  “Oh, fuck,” he mumbled. “I’m a fucking ass. I’m so sorry.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant, what exactly he was sorry about. I hoped he meant he was sorry for what he was saying just now rather than what he’d done, but I didn’t think so. He was still sorry about the kiss. He stroked my cheeks with his thumbs and it felt… good, nice…

  “Vi, it wouldn’t be fair to you, and I really came to tell you to come back to the clubhouse. I don’t want you to lose that. They’re your family, and I’ll stay out of your way. I promise I won’t bother you.”

  I closed my eyes again. I didn’t want to watch him when he said those things. It was bad enough he was so close to me, but looking at him might make me lose it completely.

  “Mac, could you do something for me?” If he was gonna do this, like, for real, it didn’t matter anymore. I might as well ask. Not like things could get any worse.

  “If you open your eyes when you ask me.”

  I did. He was so close. I swallowed, took a deep breath, and then I asked.

  “Could you kiss me again? Just once.”

  He looked at me with such intensity, and eventually nodded. He was still holding my cheeks and once he’d agreed I closed my eyes again. Then I felt his lips on mine. I circled his waist to get closer, and his lips left mine.

  I thought that was it, but I was wrong; they came crashing down again. I opened my mouth a little and felt his tongue dart inside. It was even better than the first time. It was great. It was more than great. It was… magnificent, totally different when I knew it was coming.

  He let go of my face and put his arms around me, hugging me tight, and still kissing me. When I felt his dick against me, I took the chance and pressed against it. That’s when he stopped and grabbed my hips to hold me still—panting. Once he calmed down, his hands were on my cheeks again. He leaned his forehead against mine.

  “You taste so good. I can’t believe how good you taste.” He placed a kiss on my forehead. “I have to go, Katze, before I do something really fucking stupid.”

  I kinda hoped he’d stay and do something stupid, but he let go of me, and with a ‘take care, girl’ he left.

  That’s when I started crying.

  Momentum: I Found a Good Guy

  -o0o—

  MAC HAD NO IDEA how to deal. It had been almost two months since he’d left Vi in her hallway. If he’d thought he’d get over her, he’d been dead wrong. It wasn’t even getting easier, quite the opposite.

  To make matters worse, he was pretty sure Bear suspected something, because he was eyeing him, and not in a friendly way. The cherry on top was that Vi was completely ignoring him. She’d been back at the clubhouse for a few birthdays and a short visit on Mitch’s patchin party. The long hug she’d given Mitch had resulted in an unexpected stab of jealousy in Mac’s chest.

  Then her eighteenth birthday came, and they’d celebrated it at his dad and Mel’s place. Apparently Mel hadn’t thought Bear’s place was good enough for Vi’s eighteenth birthday and had pushed him to let her fix it. Mac’d been there, and Vi had managed to go through the entire evening without looking at him once. It was driving him insane.

  It was Saturday, and he’d just come home from the clubhouse. He lived in a simple studio apartment, but it was pretty okay. One big open area with a kitchen island separating the kitchen from the rest of the room. A comfortable, big bed and an awesome TV and sound system was pretty much all he needed, but Mel had been there to put up some curtains, and she’d brought some living room furniture, too.

  He threw his keys on the counter, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and had just planted his ass on the couch when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but it was the club prepay and ignoring it would result in a fine.

  “Yeah!”

  “Mac, it’s Violet.”

  “Vi?” The only other time she’d called him was to set up his appointment for the ink, and considering how she’d been ignoring him, her call was worrisome rather than encouraging. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m in trouble. Or I think I’m in trouble, and… I can’t call Dad, please don’t call Dad. This was so stupid, and I know it was so you don’t have—”

  He didn’t let her finish. “Just tell me where you are.”

  “24 Tucker Road. It’s this old abandoned house.”

  “I know which one it is. I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up. He didn’t want to know anymore, and he went out to his truck to go get her.

  The old house on 24 Tucker Road had been used by kids for years. He’d been there a few times, and he’d picked up Mitch from there more than a few times. It was where kids went to drink, do drugs, and fuck. Just the thought of Vi at that filthy fucking place drove him insane.

  He pulled up outside the house about five minutes later, immediately flew out of the truck and went inside fully prepared to just deck anyone who got in his way. Considering her purple hair, she should be easy to spot, but he couldn’t see her anywhere on the first floor. Which meant she was on the second floor—where the bedrooms were.

  He took the steps two at a time, and he heard her before he’d cleared the stairwell. She was yelling, “Let go of me!”

  Mac’d managed to locate the door by the time he heard the soon to be dead dude yell back at her.

  “Why the hell did you even come here if you’re not gonna put out?”

  Mac simply kicked the door in, and a scrawny fucker with a green mohawk stared at him.

  “Who the fuck are you?” mohawk spit out, but Mac wasn’t looking at him.

  He was looking at Vi. She straightened her t-shirt and picked up her bag from the floor without looking at him. She was trying to hide her face, but he could still see she was crying.

  Mac was famed for his even mood. It took a lot to piss him off. Keeping cool was pretty much his hallmark, but at that moment he was close to just pulling out his gun and going apeshit. To try to keep himself from killing a bunch of teenagers, he turned his attention from Vi’s tearstained face to the scrawny guy who’d made her cry.

  Amazingly enough, that actually calmed him down. But keeping focus from Vi only worked until the guy who had a mohawk, but no self-preservation, opened his mouth

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he snarled at Vi, and Mac’d had it. He snapped.

  Three long steps, and he grabbed mohawk’s throat, pushed him up against the wall, and landed two hard punches in his face.

  “She’s coming with me.” A third punch. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Nah, man,” he answered in a blood-filled slur. “No problem.”

  Mac felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Vi standing behind him with a pleading face.

  “Don’t. I just want to go home,” she said. “Please just take me home.”

  He dropped the guy on the floor. “Stay the fuck away from her, or I’ll come find you again.”

  When the punk nodded, Mac turned around, grabbed Vi’s hand and pulled her behind him out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house to his truck. All without saying a single word.

  He couldn’t.

  He knew that if he opened his mouth he would never stop screaming. The entire trip to her place, he stared at the road and kept his eyes off Vi. He mainly tried to breathe calmly and stay on the road. When he pulled up by the curb outside the apartment building, he still wasn’t looking at her but heard her shifting in her seat.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled.

  That was
it, he couldn’t shut up anymore, and as suspected he started screaming once he opened his mouth.

  “What the fuck were you doing at that house?!”

  She jumped in her seat and turned to look at him with big, amber eyes and then shrugged. That was the extent of her reply. She shrugged!

  “A shrug is not a fucking answer! Answer me!”

  “What do you care?” she finally said, and she was glaring at him. She was glaring at him!

  “Baby, I just saved your fucking ass. You owe me better than that. It’s a shit place, and I know that you know that. Everyone knows exactly what goes on there, so why the fuck were you there?”

  “I guess I’m too young to know better.”

  “Don’t give me that shit.” It stung, though, how she emphasized ‘young.’ “You’re smarter than that, I know you are. And with a loser like that guy? You’re a great girl. You can find a good guy.”

  He would prefer her not finding any guy, but at the same time he knew she would sooner or later. But a guy like that, why the hell would she even give an idiot like him even the time of day?

  Vi was, as always, looking at her hands. Her hair fell like a curtain between them, and he couldn’t see her face. He kept a firm grip on the steering wheel to stop himself from reaching for her hair and tuck it behind her ear.

  “I found a good guy,” she mumbled. “He just didn’t want me.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she reached for the handle and quickly left the truck. She didn’t look back once as she ran towards the door and went inside.

  Once she was gone, he leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and took several deep breaths trying to stop himself from running after her.

  Didn’t want her? Fuck, there was no one else he wanted. After a few feeble attempts with other girls to get his mind off Vi, he’d stopped trying. It was seriously better jerking off while thinking of her than trying to ignore all the ways the girl he was fucking wasn’t Vi. That’s how much he wanted her. He was fucking pathetic, and it was because of her, and how much he wanted her.

  It was killing him to know the fact that he was trying to be the good guy and not take advantage of her had almost gotten her raped. So much for not fucking her up.