down her throat, a skill I've gotten to enjoy first hand. “Impressive.”
It wasn't anything special when I was sober. In fact, it took my dick too long to cooperate with the idea of coming for her if I wasn't a little buzzed. I can't blame it. Between her insisting on wearing clothes a size too small and the obnoxious way she baby talks, I wonder how any dude busts a nut quickly. I'm only dating her in an attempt to save face. Most of the school hates me for breaking Presley's heart the way I did. Dings in my car. Key scratches. Shit scribbled on my locker. Random hateful texts. The worst part is I don't blame anyone for hating me. I hate me. And if it wasn't me who had done the shitty thing and hurt the only person I fucking care about, I would be on the band wagon of making my life a living hell too.
“How about we skip next period and do the real thing?” she whispers as our teacher, Mrs. Flynn, strolls in.
“Maybe.”
“Just maybe?” she snaps.
“That's what I said.”
While Bambi turns around to pout, I glance over my shoulder to enjoy the breathtaking view. Lately, Presley has taken to dressing a little more provocatively. Our first week apart, it was hoodies and baggy jeans, now, almost a month later, she's wearing tight skirts and boobs shirts. It's as if Project Runaway did a special “Make Your Ex-Boyfriend Jealous” edition starring her. She looks so damn good all the time, my dick literally hurts at the end of this class period for standing at attention for so long.
“Ryder,” Mrs. Flynn states, catching me red handed. My head rolls back towards her before anyone else can notice. “Why don’t you start the reading? Page 61.”
Bambi turns so we can share her marketing book. I managed to leave mine at home again. I'm making a habit of leaving books as well as my homework at home. I'm also almost fucking tardy in the mornings now. It's hard to get out of bed. It's even harder to care about getting an A on a paper or quiz when the only thing that matters, the only thing that ever pushed me, is now pushing me away. Well, I pushed her away. So I deserve to suffer for it.
After a long discussion of marketing techniques and questions a preschooler would ask courtesy of my current girlfriend, we’re dismissed to work among ourselves on our book work.
“Ryder,” she whispers my name, the end of her pen next to her lips.
“Hm?” I glance up to see her wrap her tongue around it. Subtle. “Well I know what’s on your mind.”
“Well…can you blame me?”
Instead of responding, I let my eyes drift behind her at the sight of Presley heading out of the classroom.
“You’re so sexy and we haven’t even-”
“I need to take a leak.”
Bambi's face twitches into a pout.
I quickly pop up and head to Mrs. Flynn. “Hey, can I use the pass?”
Distracted by the romance novel she’s hiding in her newspaper, she nods and shoos me away with her hand. Casually I grab the extra pass and head out towards the restroom dying to catch one hidden moment with Presley. One moment not seen by the watch dogs that document our every move like a sick fucking news reports.
The nook where the bathrooms are is also home to a water fountain. It's the one I lean beside while I anxiously wait for her to exit. First time the door swings open, I'm disappointed at the sight of the Goth student who hisses at me. Next is a petite blonde. After her it's a petite brunette. Uneasy with the idea that maybe she used the other set of restrooms that are of equal distance from the classroom, I prepare to give up on my move of desperation.
“Ry?”
The syllable lifts my fallen face. “Hey.”
Clearly unsure how to respond she simply folds her arms and leans her back against the wall on the other side of the fountain. “Hi.”
My mouth opens, prepared to beg, prepared to plea my case in front of the only person in this
It wasn't anything special when I was sober. In fact, it took my dick too long to cooperate with the idea of coming for her if I wasn't a little buzzed. I can't blame it. Between her insisting on wearing clothes a size too small and the obnoxious way she baby talks, I wonder how any dude busts a nut quickly. I'm only dating her in an attempt to save face. Most of the school hates me for breaking Presley's heart the way I did. Dings in my car. Key scratches. Shit scribbled on my locker. Random hateful texts. The worst part is I don't blame anyone for hating me. I hate me. And if it wasn't me who had done the shitty thing and hurt the only person I fucking care about, I would be on the band wagon of making my life a living hell too.
“How about we skip next period and do the real thing?” she whispers as our teacher, Mrs. Flynn, strolls in.
“Maybe.”
“Just maybe?” she snaps.
“That's what I said.”
While Bambi turns around to pout, I glance over my shoulder to enjoy the breathtaking view. Lately, Presley has taken to dressing a little more provocatively. Our first week apart, it was hoodies and baggy jeans, now, almost a month later, she's wearing tight skirts and boobs shirts. It's as if Project Runaway did a special “Make Your Ex-Boyfriend Jealous” edition starring her. She looks so damn good all the time, my dick literally hurts at the end of this class period for standing at attention for so long.
“Ryder,” Mrs. Flynn states, catching me red handed. My head rolls back towards her before anyone else can notice. “Why don’t you start the reading? Page 61.”
Bambi turns so we can share her marketing book. I managed to leave mine at home again. I'm making a habit of leaving books as well as my homework at home. I'm also almost fucking tardy in the mornings now. It's hard to get out of bed. It's even harder to care about getting an A on a paper or quiz when the only thing that matters, the only thing that ever pushed me, is now pushing me away. Well, I pushed her away. So I deserve to suffer for it.
After a long discussion of marketing techniques and questions a preschooler would ask courtesy of my current girlfriend, we’re dismissed to work among ourselves on our book work.
“Ryder,” she whispers my name, the end of her pen next to her lips.
“Hm?” I glance up to see her wrap her tongue around it. Subtle. “Well I know what’s on your mind.”
“Well…can you blame me?”
Instead of responding, I let my eyes drift behind her at the sight of Presley heading out of the classroom.
“You’re so sexy and we haven’t even-”
“I need to take a leak.”
Bambi's face twitches into a pout.
I quickly pop up and head to Mrs. Flynn. “Hey, can I use the pass?”
Distracted by the romance novel she’s hiding in her newspaper, she nods and shoos me away with her hand. Casually I grab the extra pass and head out towards the restroom dying to catch one hidden moment with Presley. One moment not seen by the watch dogs that document our every move like a sick fucking news reports.
The nook where the bathrooms are is also home to a water fountain. It's the one I lean beside while I anxiously wait for her to exit. First time the door swings open, I'm disappointed at the sight of the Goth student who hisses at me. Next is a petite blonde. After her it's a petite brunette. Uneasy with the idea that maybe she used the other set of restrooms that are of equal distance from the classroom, I prepare to give up on my move of desperation.
“Ry?”
The syllable lifts my fallen face. “Hey.”
Clearly unsure how to respond she simply folds her arms and leans her back against the wall on the other side of the fountain. “Hi.”
My mouth opens, prepared to beg, prepared to plea my case in front of the only person in this
Similar Books
