“Gaaahk!” I shouted.
Brook pulled back the vibrator, and my legs relaxed. In my sexual haze, I watched her pull herself off the head and then drool all over the crown, letting it run down my shaft to my stomach and balls.
“For shit’s sake! What did you just do to me?” I asked.
“You liked that?” she said with a huge grin.
“Hell, yes.”
“I read about it. Now who’s your favorite girlfriend?” she asked.
“You are,” I admitted.
She crawled up my body and kissed me. Any other time it would’ve grossed me out to taste my issue, but right at this moment, I didn’t care. Mr. Happy was still hard and twitching. Brook took advantage of that and mounted me.
“Condom,” I warned.
“I want to feel you get off deep inside of me.”
After what she’d just done for me, I was willing to risk it. I let her use me until she found her release the first time and then asserted myself. I loved how I could manhandle her, and she could take a pounding.
During one of our breaks, I sent my mom a text to let her know I wasn’t coming home and where I was. Brook baked a frozen pizza, and the two of us had that and a bagged salad for our dinner.
After dinner, we curled up next to the fireplace and just talked about anything and everything. In many ways, we were alike. She was smart, funny, and driven. I would bet that most people at school only saw the sexy Brook. If they did that, they were way underestimating her.
She pulled out the vibrator again, and I promised to be her sex slave. She couldn’t quit giggling when she figured out the power she now held over me.
◊◊◊ Sunday January 31
I woke up with Brook draped all over me. It reminded me of when Kendal had slept in my bed. Most girls want to snuggle up to you and spoon. Brook must’ve wanted to make sure I didn’t slip out of bed without her.
We picked up my parents and drove to Granny’s for breakfast. Then it was off to church. Dad wasn’t happy we’d tricked him into going. The congregation took notice that I’d brought a girl to the service. They all seemed to want to ask me about it, but my mom was there, and they knew how she could get. They’d learned their lesson when they tried to talk football with me during the season. Mom was good to have around—at certain times.
I had to call Zoe and explain about my SCUBA class. She made me give Brook the phone. I guess she wasn’t happy that Brook was poaching her Sunday afternoon with me. When class was over, I took Brook home. Her parents were there, back from their weekend trip to Chicago. As I drove home, I decided I would have put this weekend in the top five of all time. I suddenly felt a lot closer to Brook.
◊◊◊ Monday February 1
At lunch, I found myself once again in the guidance counselor’s office with Jan, Stacy, Brit, Alan, and Wolf, to talk about the class project. Ms. Jaroslav had gotten an assorted sub tray. I avoided the turkey because I didn’t want to risk falling asleep in my afternoon classes. When everyone had something to eat, I started the meeting. Ms. Jaroslav seemed a little irritated that I’d taken over.
“So, what ideas do we have?” I asked.
“Brit and I talked to the Director of the Homeless Coalition,” Wolf said. “Did you know that at any given time, between three and five percent of students at Lincoln High are homeless? About 87% stay with friends, the rest are in shelters or on the street. He said there were many different ways we might help, from donations of both money and items to getting involved.”
“I suggest the direct involvement should be an individual decision,” Brit said. “We need to think of ways to get everyone to take part. I thought it might be cool to have everyone bring in stuff they might need. The guy at the Homeless Coalition said they would pick everything up.”
“I think that’s a great idea. Good job,” I said, then turned to the other three. “What do you have?”
“I had an idea that I asked Alan to help me with,” Stacy said.
It was good to see that even though they weren’t going out anymore, they could get along.
“We went in a different direction,” Alan shared. “There are kids who feel like they’re outsiders. I remember in middle school when you, Tami, and Jeff all had the flu. At lunch, I didn’t have anyone to eat with. I look around the lunchroom, and there are kids that either eat alone or skip lunch.”
“Alan said he could make an app where people could find a table where they’d be welcome,” Stacy said. “We thought we would call it ‘Lunch Buddy.’” She pulled out a diagram she’d made of the lunchroom. “When you go to lunch, you would log in, and it would show you tables where others would host. You just click on the table, and it reserves you a seat.”
“We would want you to host a table a couple of days a week to get it started,” Alan told me.
“Remember, not everyone has a phone,” Ms. Jaroslav said.
We all looked at her like she was crazy. A teen without a phone? She was probably right.
“She has a point. We need a way for both kids who don’t have a phone to join in,” I said. “What do you have, Jan?”
“I thought we could get more outside seating for lunchtime, for when it gets warm.”
“If you got me the materials, I could get some people together and make picnic tables,” Wolf said.
“We would need the school’s approval to do that,” Ms. Jaroslav added.
“What did you come up with?” Alan asked.
“I planned to help you with whatever you all decided. Personally, I think we should do all three, so we don’t need to poll the juniors. The app and tables would only require a few people to get done but would leave a legacy. The homeless project is something all the junior class could do, and we could involve the whole school.
“Jan, Wolf, and Ms. Jaroslav should work on the tables. Ms. Jaroslav, you need to get approval for us, please. Alan and Stacy can work on the app. I’ll work with Brit on the homeless project. Let’s all meet next week with to catch everyone up with our progress and any help we might need.”
Brit and I talked as we walked to our lockers.
“I’ll meet with the homeless guy and get a list of items they need. We can post it, so everyone knows what to bring,” Brit said.
“I believe we can make this bigger than just Lincoln High. I bet we can get some free publicity and get the community involved,” I said.
“You work on that,” Brit said.
The bell rang, so we didn’t have time to finish our conversation.
◊◊◊
Before I had to go to Cassidy’s workout, I had some free time since we hadn’t started baseball practice yet. I typically used it to do my homework or meet with a study group for a class, but today I wanted to use the new batting cages. This time I was smart and let the machine fire off a pitch before I got near the batter’s box. I wouldn’t put it past Jim or one of the other guys to make a small adjustment to try to kill me.
I checked the settings, and it was set to throw ninety-mile-per-hour fastballs. That was the upper limit of what you would usually see in high school unless you ran into someone exceptional. I picked up right where I’d left off in LA. I ran through my five steps and just took a few easy swings at first to get the timing down.
Twenty balls at seven-second intervals didn’t take very long. I spent more time picking up balls and reloading the machine than I did batting. We needed a better system. The easy solution would be to get more balls. I could get a few five-gallon buckets and just pour them in when it ran out.
My side was still a little tender, but I could really tell the difference in my hitting that the five steps had made. The coaching would pay dividends come baseball season.
It startled me when Moose suddenly appeared in my peripheral vision. He silently watched as I crushed twenty sweet fastballs over the center of the plate. We both knew I was taking it easy to get into the rhythm of hitting.