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chapter
eight |
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The first thing I do is leave the school and go home, so wrapped up in my anger that I can't even think straight. But halfway home I start to have some ideas, I start to formulate a plan, I start to envision revenge. I look through my closet, have something to eat, get everything I need and then go back to school. When I approach Nishikado in the hall he's talking shit to some of his friends, ludicrously still recounting the story of seeing me in the shower. I can't imagine there's really that much to tell, but he's apparently been milking it all morning. When he sees me I catch an instant of fear cross his face, but he hides it pretty well, and visibly relaxes when he realizes what I'm wearing: Really tight jeans and a low cut t-shirt that's obviously too small for me. In fact, it's kinda cutting into me – I think it's Kirsten's, 'cause I wouldn't even own a shirt like this. My midriff is showing and my tits are basically on display, but I figure there's no sense in being subtle. I don't want to mess this up. I walk straight up to him and tell him that we have to talk. "Okay," he says, nervously intrigued by my cleavage. "Alone?" I add, glancing at his friends. He nods and tells them to go, and a passing teacher herds them toward the gym, reminding them that there's an assembly starting soon. "We need somewhere more private," I tell him, taking him by the hand and heading toward the gym myself. There are quite a few students making their way inside, but we weave through them and slip into one of the sports equipment storage rooms without anyone noticing us. I close the door behind us, leaving the room fairly dim, some light streaming through the cracks in the double doors on the other side of the room, the ones which lead into the gym itself. Those are the doors I slam him against, making them creak a little, but no one notices over the noise of the gathering assembly. I pull a knee up between his legs, touching his crotch with my leg without actually hurting anything. Gritting my teeth, a grab him by the collar and ask, "Why are you telling lies about me?" "They're not lies- I'm not saying shit about you!" He starts to struggle until I put my leg back down and say, "Shh... I know you saw me." I drop to a whisper. "I don't mind. I actually find it kind of exciting... The idea that you saw my body, that you saw me naked, I never expected it to feel like this..." I'm sure I should be more tactful, but I can't think of anything else to say. "Close your eyes." He doesn't respond, probably still pretty suspicious of what's going on, so I reach down and lay a hand against the front of his jeans. "Close them." And just like a puzzle I'd solved, he closes his eyes. I reach behind me and unhook the handcuffs from my jeans. I'm glad nobody noticed me wearing them, 'cause there's really nowhere I could hide them. I got them from my parents room, just another aspect of their life I'd rather not know about. I slip one cuff around one of his wrists, then get the other wrist before he realizes what's going on, his hands locked behind his back. He doesn't struggle, I think trying to play it like he'd allowed it to happen, and does what he can to act unconcerned. "Now listen, Vincent, this can never happen again." I slam him against the door again, but not as hard as the first time. "Understand?" Then I hug him and say "Never do that again," before pulling away and taking an xacto knife from my back pocket. That definitely gets him nervous. "What are you doing?" he asks, but doesn't move as I pull his shirt away from him and start to cut it slowly down the front. It gives pretty easily, but I make sure to slip a little at the bottom and make a small cut on his belly. He makes a bit of a noise, but still doesn't move as I wipe the bit of blood onto my finger and put it in his mouth. I smile at him as he sucks it off, then toss away the knife and reach into my other back pocket, pulling out a black blindfold, the kind people wear while they're sleeping. Another gift from my parents' room. "Let me put this on you," I say. He looks confused, the tatters of his shirt hanging from him. "Why?" I run a hand down his chest, stopping just below his belly button, then glance briefly downward. For a moment we watch each other. I'm surprised at how good of a build he actually has, and let my hand linger for a few seconds. When I put the blindfold on him he doesn't resist, and then I drop silently to my knees. I unbutton his pants and pull them down around his ankles, where I find myself hesitating. Through his boxers it's obvious that he's loving this, and I draw a breath before I can make myself hook my thumbs under the elastic and pull his boxers down to his knees. Now everything is done, but I find myself frozen, looking at his penis. It's ridiculously hard, kind of fascinating... this boy loves me, or at the very least he really wants to fuck me. But then, it's probably not me. He'd be like this for almost anybody. Either way, I'm about to cause him considerable shame and embarrassment, and everything's ready, so it doesn't matter what I do now. It'll make it worse if I give him a little pleasure first. That's what I tell myself, but I mostly just want to see what it feels like. I reach up and put my hand gently around his cock. A shiver goes through him and a giant smile appears on his face. What an idiot. How could he possibly fall for all this? How could he think I'd actually want him after what he did? I stare straight at his erection, moving my hand slowly down it, then back up. It's really hard and really warm, and I can feel blood pulsing through it. Just barely, but I can feel it. Enough of this, I don't want him to blow a load. Time to get it done. I stand up, my hand still on his dick, reaching my other hand behind him to turn the lock on the double doors. Then I put both hands on his naked chest and shove him. He goes sailing backward through the doors, falling in a heap on the gym floor, and I turn and leave through the back door before there's any chance of me being spotted. I try to walk normally and keep a straight face as I move down the hallway, ignoring the sounds from the gym behind me. It sounds like the assembly is definitely over, but I can't think about that now. I just have to leave, so I step through a side door that leads into the parking lot, cut across the field and start walking down the street. When I'm finally out of distance of the school I let myself smile. There's no way he's ever going to live this down. Kirsten finally shows up at my house an hour later. "School's basically canceled," she says as she drops her bookbag. "Not canceled, but if people leave early they don't care. Nishikado caused quite a scene." She walks to my fridge to get something to eat without further comment; maybe I should have told her I was going to do this. When she comes to sit next to me at the counter she doesn't seem upset, so that's good. She glances down at my midriff - I'm still wearing the low-cut shirt - and asks, "Where'd you get that bruise?" I glance down at my side just as her hand reaches over to touch it, and I have to fight to keep from jumping when her fingers touch my skin. Now I can feel my nipples getting hard and I really wish I wasn't wearing this fucking shirt. I reach down to brush her hand away, I really can't deal with her touching me. "I dunno," I say, looking down at the discolored area of my skin. "I must have got it from running. Can you actually bruise yourself from running?" "I guess so." She turns back to her food, takes a bite, then glances over at me. "So I think Nishikado's been suspended." I smile. "Really?" "Yeah, supposedly he wouldn't say who did it to him. He maintained that he didn't handcuff himself, but he wouldn't say any names. The school's just as pissed with him as they are with you, but he won't tell on you and they don't know it's you. They just know it's someone." She looks at me. "Do you think this was such a good idea? If he ever rats on you you're in for a shitload of trouble." "Yeah, it was worth it. That son of a bitch saw me fucking naked and then told everyone. This is totally justified. It's retribution." She doesn't answer, and I finally have to ask, "So what happened?" A grin appears on her face, and she looks down at her food as she talks. "Well, nobody really noticed anything for the first couple of seconds, until somebody screamed. And then there was Vincent Nishikado, trying to stand up with his pants around his ankles, his hands cuffed and sporting a blindfold. Not to mention a giant erection," she adds, glancing over at me. I laugh and shrug a little, and she starts laughing too. "The best part," she says, "was while he was trying to get to his feet his blindfold fell off. He must have known where he was from the sound of the entire student body going nuts, but when he actually saw them... let's just say his hard on didn't last very long." "Oh, fuck... he's gonna be so pissed at me..." Me and Kirsten both start laughing way too hard, a manic kind of laugh at knowing that something really uncalled for has taken place, something that really should make us nervous. Then we look at each other, smiling, and I really can't believe how beautiful she is. I'm so glad that he didn't see her in the shower instead of me. Rumors about me I can deal with, I can make people afraid to even think the words Clover and Naked in the same sentence, but if he'd seen her... if he'd seen her and pulled this same routine of spreading it all over the school, I don't know what I would have done to him. It would have been so much worse than what happened today. I don't even want to think about it. "But it's over now," I tell her. "His peeping days are done. Nobody will ever forget this. Today, I changed his entire life." She nods at me, but sighs a little as she returns to her food. "I dunno, I just hope you didn't make a mistake. I mean, he's never been shy about getting back at people, and I think you hurt him bad today." She looks up at me. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to you." My normal urge to want to hold her in my arms gets suddenly stronger, sweeping through me, leaving me wanting to feel her head against my shoulder and my hands around my hips, and I don't know how much more of this I can stand. She's right here, she's right here, I care about her and she cares about me but I can't touch her. I have to keep my hands to myself, and not only that, I have to keep my thoughts to myself. It used to be that I could tell her anything, I could tell her any weird thought I happened to have, I could tell her any idea that came to me. Everything I am could flow through her, then come back to me, strengthened, the two of us knowing more about each other than we've ever known about anyone else. Parents, siblings, boyfriends, I've never known so much about a person as I do about her, and now I have to throw up a gate. I have to hold back, now I have to keep things from her, and it hurts. I want to be with her forever, but I'm starting to feel further away every time we talk. "Don't worry about me," I tell her. "You know I can take care of myself." But the slight frown on her face says that she's unconvinced. Maybe she's right. It probably wouldn't hurt to start watching my back.
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