All throughout middle school, I had hated the name Adam Watson. It was a name the school bullies had become all too familiar with, and it became a name I figured was cursed, and I too for having it. They always liked to give me increasingly bizarre reasons for their bullying – “Adam can’t talk to girls, he must like men,” “Adam still wears tighty-whities,” “Adam doesn’t like looking at porn,” crap like that. I knew their true reason for picking on me – a geeky, socially awkward kid who had a tendency to talk in a way considered too ‘proper’ for middle school, and an inability to talk to girls. The ‘proper’ talk was how my parents raised me. The inability to talk to girls, well, that was just a gift from God.
The bullying got so bad that eventually I stopped going outside for recess, I stopped talking to people during my classes, and eventually I stopped talking to people. As far as middle school went, it was an easy solution that was basically foolproof. But by the time I had gotten to high school, I found out that my luck had drained away.
After I plead and plead to my parents, I was transferred to a high school far away from my old middle school. There were none of my old bullies in sight, but as I had learned in the first few weeks of grade nine, socialization was a bit more key. I was talking to people, but shyly, quietly and I’m sure what could be seen as begrudgingly. However, that all changed quickly.
It was a cool-ish October morning when I was woken by my mother’s bellowing voice.
“Adam! Get up! You’re going to miss the bus!”
Shit. Had I slept through my alarm? A lazy opening of one eye and a peek at my digital clock answered that question with a jolt of panic. I bolted upwards, jumped out of my bed and pulled on the closest shirt I could see. As I found and put on a pair of pants, I inspected myself in the mirror.
Nothing special, to be expected. A lanky, almost gangly teen stared back at me, his longish dirty blond hair flopped over his head, just enough that you couldn’t see his piercing green eyes, something I was told once was my best feature. Mind you, my grandma told me that, so I wasn’t exactly going to call that the popular vote quite yet. I grimaced slightly at the state of my hair and what I saw as a skinny, unattractive body. The baggy shirt I had randomly picked helped a bit, I reasoned to myself. I shook my head, pushed my hair out of my face and raced downstairs.
The first thing I saw when I headed into the kitchen downstairs was my dad looking at his watch. “Just missed it…” he commented bitterly. “It’s a shame you don’t have a Delorean on you.”
Ignoring his dated movie joke, I sputtered out, “I missed the bus?” My heart sank. The high school was, as I mentioned, far away, and I didn’t have any other way to get there.
He raised his eyebrows. “Nope,” he replied without a trace of a smile. “I’m just kidding. Now get your stuff together, you don’t have long.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Two things about my dad that created a sometimes unnerving mix was that he was an absolute joker who never took anything seriously, and that he never ever smiled. He wasn’t heartless, he just liked to show his jokiness and happiness in other ways. Unless he was playing a prank on me, I never really minded it. Though, today was definitely an exception.
As I gathered my stuff together, my mother started to stammer. She was an absolute worrier, and was a little hesitant by nature, as if anything she could say would drive me to depression. I turned to her expectantly, still packing away my textbooks and lunch.
She noticed my stare and cleared her throat. “Sweetie, before you go, I want to have a quick word with you.”
“Sure, but make it quick please.” I replied flatly. “Doc Brown over there says I don’t have long.”
“Oh good, you got the reference.” Dad replied dryly as he sipped his coffee. “Hey Marcia, maybe I’m not as old as I thought.” He called out to my mother.
Mom nodded at dad with a patient smile on her face, then turned her attention back to me. “Sweetie, we’ve been talking to your teachers, and frankly, I’m just a little worried.
What a surprise, I thought. “Worried? Why? Are my grades bad? It’s only been a month, I’m not that dumb.”
“You’re not dumb, Adam!” My mother said sharply. “It’s not your grades. Your teachers are just worried because you’re unusually quiet in class. I thought it would help once we got you to a school where you could have a fresh start, but it doesn’t seem to be helping, and frankly, it would make things a lot easier on me to get you bussing to a closer school…”
I caught on to what she was saying immediately. “Mom, I can’t go to that school. Everyone there will know me. They were happy with bullying me before. It’ll make my life a living hell.”
It’s true, mom had a hell of a time convincing the board to get me bussing from a whole town over without being in a special education program, but I was just starting to get used to a life where I wasn’t the center of attention, and I would fight like hell before I had to give that up.
Mom bit her lip in thought. “I don’t know, sweetie.” She finally said. “It just seems like the school isn’t helping you. If you were a bit more social, it would make it all worth it.” She paused for effect. “And it would mean the world to me.”
I exhaled sharply. I wanted to tell her that being social was the opposite of what I craved, but while my eyes scanned the room looking for an explanation, they found the clock. Oh, shit.
“I-I’ll think about it, mom.” I said quickly as I scooped up my backpack. “I’ll try, okay?”
She gave me a weak smile as I headed out the door. Poor mom. I was a bit too hard on her, knowing all of the things she did for me, but I couldn’t help who I was.
Or could I? The thought crept into my mind as I sat on the bus, staring out the window. Maybe, even if I considered it a living hell, I should do it for my mom, not me. I should prove myself to be a social success. Even just a little. That could keep me at this school, then once I had one or two friends, I could stop talking again, and we would all win.
I started to smile. Maybe I should just be spontaneous. Be that guy who did crazy things and met the craziest of friends. Maybe it might even make me happier. As I thought about it more, my smile turned into a grin. Okay. I’ll do it.
My homeroom, science class, was honestly the most fun I had all day. I had one reason for that, and the reason was Mr. Carrozza. This professor was just the right amount of friendly, and the right amount of crazy to make me both smile and be glad I wasn’t him.
“Brilliant to see you all here again today, class.” He began after the morning announcements died down. “Now, today we’ll be looking at the basic properties of light in relation to matter. Now, some of my comrades would say that this is ‘senior physics’ or something like that, but we can take it, can’t we, hmm?”
He turned to us, his bug-eyes magnified by his overly large glasses. His white hair contrasted with his weirdly-tanned face. His face quickly turned into a smile when he heard a couple of groans.
“Just a joke, class. Pardon my academic sense of humor. We’re just going to be looking at concave and convex lenses. If you ask me, the lesson is really watered down, almost as if the principal is insulting our very intelligence… Oh, wait!”
Derailed from his weekly speech about how we learn too little, he hobbled over to his desk and retrieved a paper.
“I do believe the announcements were supposed to cover this, but it seems they haven’t, so pardon the brief interruption.” He said, then pursed his lips as he squinted and read the paper. He made an audible ‘ah’ sound and turned his attention to the class.
“It’s that time again, class.” He said simply. “Student council is hiring grade 9 students to join them in governing the school.”
Student council. Only the most popular kids get into that class. And only the best. All four teachers a student had needed to vouch for a candidate if they wanted to join, and only one student from grade 9 could join. Mr. Carrozza went over the duties of student council before pressing on.
“I don’t suppose any of you brilliant young minds would like to give the old stick a whack across the tree, would you?”
Silence poured through the room. “What does that even mean?” a muscle-clad hoodie-wearer called from across the room.
Mr. Carrozza sighed. “Would any of you be interested in trying out for Student Council?” He asked. His eyes scanned the room, his tongue running over his lips in concentration as he squinted at all of us in succession. When his eyes passed over me, his eyes lit up and he donned a shocked expression.
“Why Mr. Watson, this is certainly an unexpected surprise!”
What? I looked confusedly at him, then at all of the eyes peering at me. Finally, I saw my arm. My own arm, reaching into the air as if I were painted on the Sistine Chapel. Oh, no. Oh God no. When did my arm go up like that? I willed it down. Student Council was not for me. It was not for… Actually…
What if I tried out? I would definitely lose, so there was no harm there. And it would calm mom down. Maybe this could be my spontaneous thing. With newfound confidence, I nodded. “Yes, Mr. Carrozza.” I said, as if speaking with my voice for the first time. “I would like to try out for Student Council.”
He fumbled with his words. He certainly was not expecting this. Finally, he produced a piece of paper from his desk, and put it gently on my desk. “Well, I must say, good luck.” He said, then added, “See me after class.”
I looked at him with confusion until he pointed to the lower section of the paper. The higher section required all of my personal information, and the bottom half was for my marks, comments, and signatures from teachers. I should have been nervous, but I was actually excited. I had no clue why.
“Alright, everyone, enough about tawdry school activities.” Mr. Carrozza said sternly as he walked back to his desk. “Open your books to page 147. You should see ‘The properties of a convex lens.'”
Everyone turned back to their desks immediately. I’d know, I sat at the back of the class. Well, everyone except one girl. He eyes seemed to be locked onto the paper I was holding. I glanced at her from the blackboard to see a look I couldn’t identify. It seemed like… confused intrigue. Her full lips seemed curved into something just short of a smile, as if she was wondering why someone like me would want to be in Student Council. Her brown, wavy hair covered one of her hazel eyes, and for a fellow grade nine, I had to say her body looked damn good, from what little I saw of it. Still, I didn’t want to be caught staring and apparently neither did she. Even though I’d been looking at her for a good second, she suddenly snapped to attention and turned back around. Curious, but too shy to even think about it without scolding myself, I turned back towards the class.
After class, I stayed behind, as Mr. Carrozza instructed me. When he looked up from his desk to find me still sitting there, he looked puzzled for a second, then his eyes lit up. “Ah, of course, master Watson.” He said, half-joking, as he got up from his desk and overlooked my paper. in a distracted voice, he added, “Yes, you’re one of my best students, you know.”
“Thank you, sir.” I replied flatly.
“Oh, no need for the ‘sir!'” He shot back playfully. “It makes me feel old.” He stopped what he was doing, shot a look straight up at nothing in particular, and added gravely, “My God, I AM old.” Strangely, he just chuckled and went back to the paper. One signature later, he sighed happily and returned to the desk. I read his kinds words aloud and thanked him again, and he happily shooed me away. I left the classroom feeling a lot better than I normally did while I was in school.
Math class felt for difficult for me, in terms of approaching the teacher. True to his name, Mr. Graves took his job very seriously, and not only canned any and all jokes his brain ever thought up since the ’90s, but also made you feel scared just by asking him a question. When he was finished giving the lesson, with as much fake confidence as I could muster, I walked up to his desk and cleared my throat nervously.
“Uh, Mr. Graves?” I stated weakly.
He looked up from an assignment he was marking with one eyebrow cocked. “What can I do for you, Adam?” He asked very seriously.
“Um, I was wondering if you could…” I trailed off and held up the paper. “Could you please… sign this?” I managed.
He looked it over in my hand. “I suppose.” He replied. He lowered his eyebrows and his eyes met mine as if they were going to fire missiles. “But next time, please ask me after class. You may have interrupted some students’ concentration.”
I turned to the class. Many, if not most, of my fellow classmates were staring at me as I sat at Mr. Graves’ desk.
“Sorry.” I mumbled lamely. The class collectively chuckled, and I immediately felt weak in the chest. Great. I tried to say one little thing, and already people were laughing at my stupidity. I must have looked like a real ass. A low-down, stupid-
“Adam!” Mr. Graves said sternly as he held out the paper. I emitted an audible ‘oh’ and grabbed the paper. “Thanks.” I said to him.
“You’re welcome.” He said, returning to his paper. “And Adam?”
I held back. “Yes?”
“May I offer some advice?”
“Certainly, sir.” I replied.
“Student council is about popularity and ability. But ability only counts with the teachers. With students, it’s popularity. That’s going to be your main hurdle. Don’t worry about the teachers. You’re a good student. Worry about how you’re going to come across as popular.” He looked up from his paper, admitting a look of genuine concern, the first time he let any sign of emotion show in his classroom. “No offense, of course.” He said with a tone matching his uncharacteristically concerned face.
“None taken.” I said. He was speaking the truth. When I made my way back to the desk, I felt a hand on my shoulder behind me. I cringed. This was it. Someone was going to hit me for something stupid I said.
“Man, Mr. Graves is such an asshole.” I heard a voice whisper sympathetically from behind me. I turned around to see a guy with a nearly shaven heard looking back at me, dressed in a black baggy sweater. “Don’t you worry about him. You can make yourself popular.” He added for support.
No one really talked to me before without due reason, so I just stammered as a response. He broke out into a grin and added, “And I loved the way you said ‘sorry.’ Classic, man.” He held out his fist. I’m not proud to say it’s only from movies that I knew I had to do a fist-bump.
I felt a strong wave of relief wash over me. He thought me saying ‘sorry’ was cool, not pathetic. But… Was Mr. Graves an asshole? I actually liked him a lot more after our conversation today. Maybe it was because he knew how to cut the bullshit and speak the truth. I didn’t know.
“I’m Carson, by the way.” The guy behind me whispered.
“Adam. Adam Watson.” I said back.
“Good to meet you, man. Good on ya going for Student Council. It’s usually only pricks and sluts that would try out anyway. I’d vote for ya.”
I was genuinely scared by this guy’s kindness, but that feeling was a shadow in comparison to the pride in knowing I had secured one vote. “Yeah?” I said, unable to hide my smile. He simply nodded. I nodded back, and turned back to my assignment.
My English teacher was overenthusiastic, to say the least. You could barely ever catch her without some sort of smile on her face. When I presented the paper to her, words were not needed – all she did was smile enthusiastically and take the sheet.
“I’m very impressed with you.” Mrs. Jackson said in a way so sweet that I began to doubt her sincerity. “Very impressed.” She handed me back the sheet, the comments section coated with completely overstated accounts of my success in English class. I smiled at her, probably a bit more weakly than I should have, and took a seat.
This time, it wasn’t so ceremonious. Nobody had any reason to look up from their reading at me, and I preferred it that way. I scanned my eyes over the class from my seat at the back and noticed the same girl again.
I never even knew she was in two of my classes. This time, I had more than a second to observe her, and it would be criminal of me to describe her as anything less than beautiful, even from the back. She was wearing an adorable dark green dress which hugged her curves nicely. Even from the back, I could tell that she had to be at least a B cup, if not larger. Her waist seemed to disappear into her chair, although the chair itself wasn’t that wide. I could tell, she was absolutely gorgeous, and I found myself wishing that she would do something. Turn around, stand up, anything to help me get a better look at her.
My wish was granted as her back stiffened and she stretched. She rolled her shoulders as she moved her head from side to side, moving the hair out of her face. Being diagonally across from her, I barely saw the outer details of her face.
Even as she worked, she had the beginnings of an adorable smile constantly on display. Near the corner of her mouth moving up to her nose were just the right amount of freckles to look adorable. Her hair, brown and beautiful, practically shone, and cascaded down her head down to her waist, and complimented her face amazingly. Her nose was a perfect shape, and what little I could see of her eye was perfect too. She honestly looked like a painting.
Before she had the chance to turn around and notice me, I turned back to my reading, but noticed a fluttering feeling in my heart that I couldn’t quite place. For the first time, I had a crush.
In hindsight, I had no clue why I had picked drama class as an elective. I enjoyed watching movies, and shows like Whose Line Is It Anyway, but I had the acting skills of a dead cat. I read scripts like they were an ingredients label on a Boring Sandwich, and could improv about as well as reading scripts. Not to mention my shyness was a huge impairment on my ability to participate.
However, I had to give the class some credit – the teacher was fantastic. His name was Mr. Salvador, a Spanish-born man who allegedly went to theatre school in Paris of all places. He always had a serious expression, topped off by a small pair of glasses and little-to-no hair at all times. He first got my respect when he outlined that unlike other drama classes, he would not focus on Shakespeare and taking apart scripts to find their deeper meaning. In fact, the guy was unpredictable and unusual in his exercises to boot. The first thing he did with us was go on the auditorium’s stage and tell the class who we were – without using words. Needless to say, I didn’t have a hard time telling the class I was shy.
Getting him to sign my paper would prove to be the most difficult out of all the teachers, though, since he began class the same way every day – arriving later than all of his students, walking to the stage, sitting on it’s edge, facing us, and simply saying, “Hello.” Then he began the lesson immediately, without interruptions. His voice was authoritative, yet calming – almost like a fatherly figure. I imagine he was the subject of a lot of Electra complexes in the school.
Then he would dive right in to the lesson. He got us to go onstage and all divide up into pairs, firstly. Our class had an odd number of people… three guesses who managed to not find a partner.
“Adam.” Mr. Salvador called out.
“Yes?” I called back.
He made an outward gesture with his arms. “Where’s your partner?” He asked me.
Sarcasm was my first language, and as a result I’ve learned to impulsively use it with everyone, authority or not. “He left.” I replied.
He gave me a puzzled look. “Where’d he go?” He asked, then looked around. “I thought we were all accounted for.”
I made a mental note in my head that they must not teach sarcasm in Paris and clarified, “I was kidding. I don’t have a partner.”
“Got it.” he replied flatly. “Well, for now… Join a pair, make a group of three.”
I groaned internally. Not I was the subject of a group’s ruin. I must have looked like a complete ass at that point, as I putzed around nervously, looking for anybody who didn’t view me with what I saw as contempt.
“C’mon, quickly.” Mr. Salvador encouraged me impatiently. I jumped slightly and joined the closest group to me, a group of two guys who looked like they were only in this class to get the arts credit. Sports jerseys, a visible ‘fuck you’ attitude, low-riding pants… Yup, these guys were the pinnacle of ‘I don’t belong in a drama class.’ Then again, I wasn’t the one to talk.
Mr. Salvador cleared his throat and began. Label yourselves A and B.”
The class was abuzz in overenthusiastic actors and actresses of tomorrow labelling themselves ‘A’ immediately. In my group, I just looked at my shoes and one of the jock wannabes turned to the other. “Um… Okay, I’ll be A, you be B.” one of them said, a boy with blond hair and a mouth that always seemed to hang open.
“What about this guy?” The other one, a guy with brown hair just a little bit too long and the makings of a moustache (a baseball player, I bet) said while gesturing towards me.
Blondie thought to himself, his mouth still open. Then his open mouth broke into a grin. “He can be B too.” He said proudly, as if he just thought up a brilliant idea.
I nodded enthusiastically, looking up from my shoes. On the inside, I sighed.
Mr. Salvador continued. “Good! Now, A’s, your job is to get the other to guess an emotion. Once I say go, A’s will come to me in a huddle and I’ll give you your separate emotions you have to portray. A’s, you can not use your face or your voice. Your face is blank. You can only portray this emotion with your bodies. Pairs will sit down when you’ve guessed correctly.”
At least my team had double the guessing power, I thought bitterly. I actually wouldn’t have minded being paired up with anyone else. I didn’t much like jocks, they were the type of person who bullied me relentlessly only a short time ago. I closed my eyes and asked that if there was a God up there, to give me a new partner. Someone. Anyone.
All of a sudden, there was a knock on the auditorium doors, followed by the door opening and someone slowly entering. I recognized her immediately. The cutie from my English and Science classes.
“Sorry for disrupting the class.” She practically sang in a voice I kept repeating in my head. If angels could talk, her voice could make them leave in shame. It was delicate, yet sweet; strong, yet soft. As she stood, I got the chance to drink in her full image.
She was short, but not too short. Her height could only be described as perfect – just shorter than me. The green dress ended at her knees, revealing two beautiful, almost teasing legs. They seemed to slink as she walked. Her shoes were together in a pose cutely complimented by how her two hands were clasped behind her back. Her waist was tight – very tight. Hugged impressively by her dress, as if the dress was made only for her, her waist allowed her surprisingly full hips (Which I had to imagine would sway just a bit when she walked) and chest to stick out even more than they normally would.
And her chest certainly didn’t need the help. I was wrong before – she had to be at least a C cup (which was massive for grade 9 standards) which stood out proudly from her chest, slightly straining the dress she was wearing.
Her face was slightly blushing from all of the attention on her, but she was still giving that cute, innocent smile. Her pale complexion, something I normally didn’t like in a girl, outlined all of her facial features perfectly, and brought to mind the skin of an angel. The freckles brought out just the right amount of innocent cuteness, but they had nothing on her beautiful, big hazel eyes, gleaming and dancing on her face’s smile. Her eyelashes, full yet giving me the impression she wore no mascara, crowned them beautifully. Her hair framed her face in a perfect fashion, and the sight of her made me smile before I was even realizing it. My trance was broken when Mr. Salvador spoke.
“It’s okay. Can I help you?”
“I just transferred out of music…” She trailed off ,holding up a sheet of paper. “Mr. Scott directed me to this class.”
Mr. Scott was our school’s principal, and I was just about ready to kiss his feet at that moment. Mr. Salvador nodded at her, and turned back to the class.
“Well, welcome to the class. You missed a lot of introductory activities, so you’ll find that the first few weeks will be a bit overwhelming.”
“It’s fine!” she returned in a chipper way. “I work well under pressure.”
I had to turn away from any classmates in my line of sight. I know she didn’t mean it like that, but she was making me… Stir, in the lower areas. I scolded myself for being so lustful, and tried to calm myself down by reminding myself how I probably won’t ever even talk with her.
“Well, you can join in on this activity.” Mr. Salvador said, mostly to himself. “Let’s see… Adam, you said your partner left, correct?”
My heart fluttered in my chest as the class gave a little bit of a laugh. “Uh…” I began, taken off guard. “Yes sir.” I noted that it was the first time I called him sir. He raised his eyebrows in a way that made me wonder if he made the same realization.
“Well, he just got used to this group.” Blondie piped up. “New girl can go with me if you want.”
Mr. Salvador either didn’t remember his hormonal period of being a teen, or had the best poker face known to man. “I don’t see why her going with Adam is any worse.” He said with a blank expression. He turned to her. “And I imagine your name is something other than ‘new girl.'”
“Way to go, Quick Draw McGraw.” called out a voice from the class, directed at Blondie. The class chuckled, but Mr. Salvador ignored them, fixated on the girl’s response.
She smiled at him. “I’m May. May Stevens.”
“May Stevens.” He repeated to himself, nodding. A smile slowly formed on his face. “Well, we’re glad to have you aboard.”
He explained to her the activity, and she seemed excited by it. She hopped up onstage without another word and turned back towards Mr. Salvador. “Who am I partnered with again?” She asked sweetly.
Great. I was forgettable to her. My heart sank as I started beating myself up internally. So much that I didn’t even notice when Mr. Salvador pointed to me. The next think I felt was a poke in my arm. I was shocked to see May at the end of the poking finger, smiling at me. Her expression then softened. “Oh, I know you!” she exclaimed.
I smiled weakly and gave a small nod. She would have continued, but Mr. Salvador called for all A’s to meet him for their emotion.
She turned to me. “Oh, by the way, if we’re going to be partners, I’m always A.” She said, and winked playfully as she walked off towards the group huddle. Was she flirting with me? No, of course she wasn’t. She wouldn’t. I’m way out of her league. It was only a wink. Friends can wink. Right?
She walked back to me, her mind clearly at work with whatever Mr. Salvador had given her. “Alright, Go!” Mr. Salvador called, and the auditorium was instantly full of shouting.
May began to walk, but started to stumble. She then composed herself and started to look around erratically. Her face was completely blank, as Mr. Salvador instructed, but it was still a vision of beauty. It took me a second to get out of my trance and start guessing.
“Um… Nervousness?” I asked in an ironically nervous fashion. She kept up the act, so I guessed it wasn’t it. “Caution?” I asked. She thought to herself for a second, then resumed her walk-stumble thing. “…Drunk?” I asked, throwing up my arms.
She flashed me quick grin and a chuckle before composing herself. Oh my God, her full-on smile was something. I bet it could cure diseases. There was something about her eyes that made her smile what it was. You couldn’t take one single part of her face and take it out of her smile. It all worked to make her face beautiful.
I shook my head again and focussed on her act. She was looking around more erratically now, like she was in a panic.
“Panic.” I stated. Her hand went flat and wobbled, giving me the universal symbol for ‘Kind of.’ She then scratched her head and throw up her arms in frustration. I wasn’t sure if she ran out of ways or was still acting, but after, she just put her finger to her lower lip and thought. She looked confused.
“Confusion,” I said lamely, as a last guess. She grinned and nodded. “You got it!” She said happily, and we sat down. We were by no means the first group to get it, but we at least weren’t the last. I looked at Blondie and his friend to see that they were still struggling. I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my face.
My smile didn’t last long, especially since Mr. Salvador told the class after everyone was sitting that it was now B’s turn to act. I sighed as he called us forward, and joined the huddle. He was already assigning students by the time I got there.
“Callum, you’ll be ‘Tired.’ Hanna, you’re ‘Longing.’ Uhh… Adam. You’re going to be ‘Shy.'”
That was totally a remark on my character, but I smiled and nodded. This would be too easy. As I was walking back, May was still sitting on the ground, and flashed me a thumbs-up with one of her trademark smiles. I gave her a thumbs-up back as she stood up.
“Go ahead!” Mr. Salvador called out, and the auditorium was once again filled with shouting.
I swear I didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have normally. I just stuck my hands in my pockets and collapsed my shoulders inward.
“Shy.” May guessed. I nodded. “Really?” she asked me, beaming. “C’mon, let’s sit then.” She added giddily.
Mr. Salvador noticed how quickly we sat down. He gave a small nod in my direction, letting the smallest of smiles form on his lips.
The class was over sooner than I would have expected. When the bell went, Mr. Salvador called out, “Alright, good work. See you all tomorrow.”
Most of the class cleared out immediately, though I was surprised to see that May was sort of lingering around. She approached me and said softly, “Thanks for being my partner today.”
“You’re thanking me?!” was the first thing my mind thought. Of course, my mouth went off with the same words without giving me a chance to think about it first. I cringed, thinking it was a stupid thing to say.
She gave a small, adorable laugh. “Well, yeah. To tell you the truth, I moved to this high school from a little bit away, so I don’t know anyone here. It’s just kind of overwhelming.” She paused, then noticing I wasn’t going to speak, asked, “What’s your name? All I know is ‘Mr. Watson.'” she said, imitating Mr. Carrozza’s voice.
I chuckled. “I-I’m Adam.” I said, probably more shakily than I’d like.
She nodded. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Adam.” She said.
“Nice to meet you too, May.” I added a bit quickly. I bet she noticed my discomfort, and was just being kind to me. That’s all it was.
“Well, see you! Good luck running for student council.” She gave me another playful wink and walked off.
The council! I had forgotten all about it. Thank goodness for her. After she walked off, I ran to my backpack and dug into it, looking for the sheet. When I did, I had enough time to see Mr. Salvador, walking out of the auditorium.
“Mr. Salvador!” I called out. He stopped in his tracks and turned around.
“Hello.” He said in his commanding voice.
I ran up to him and asked, “I’m running for student council and was wondering if you would maybe consider advocating for me. If not that’s okay too.” I cursed my mouth.
He looked at me for a second, then said, “Of course.” He started making his way towards the stage, then put the paper on the edge. He sat down and began to sign. “Next time, I expect you to use fewer words when asking. Don’t waste my time.”
The guy loved brevity. ‘Don’t waste my time’ wasn’t as harsh coming from him. “Good work today.” he added as he kept signing. “If you hadn’t shown me your ability today, you wouldn’t have gotten such a recommendation.” He got up and gave me the sheet.
I remembered his love of brevity. “Noted.” I simply said. He nodded and began to walk out again is if nothing had happened. I got my backpack from the floor and started to walk out myself.
I presented my paper to the office and the secretary looked me up and down. “You’re applying for student council?” she asked, with a bit more condescension in her voice than I’d like. I nodded. She shrugged and continued. “Alrighty then! The elections are next week. Other than you, three other people have applied. You have until after next week’s assembly to put up posters and do anything else you want to get your fellow students to vote for you. Then next week on Monday, you’ll have to give a speech at the assembly.”
Oh boy. Speeches. This was going to be fun… But if anything, I was a guy who saw things through. I told myself I would, and so I shall. But posters? That seemed… stupid. It seemed like a childish way to make the class listen, and certainly wouldn’t show any leadership qualities…
At once, the idea came to me. I knew what I was going to do.
When I got home, mom was still at the computer. She worked from home – an idea she had when I was 5 to avoid spending too much on babysitting. “Hello, sweetie!” She yelled across the house when she heard the door slam. “How was school?”
I don’t know why, but I had a newfound confidence. With all of the confidence I knew I didn’t have before, I swaggered up to mom’s desk, leaned on it, and simply stated, “I’m trying out for student council.”
Mom looked like she didn’t believe me for a second. “Really?” Was all she asked.
I shrugged. “You wanted me to be more social. Does this work?”
Mom gave me a smile that was half genuine, half ‘You smart-ass.’ “Well done, Adam. I’m proud of you for doing this. You’ll be glad you did it too!” She then put her headphones back on, wordlessly telling me it was back to work for her. I flashed her a thumbs-up. In my head, all I was think in of was May.
The next day, I went to school in a business casual shirt, and set up a single poster in the main hallway. ‘Adam Watson – Your Grade 9 Rep’ was what it said. I stood under it all times until classes were in session. Anyone who approached me in the hallway got a hearty handshake and a speech with more fake confidence than I knew I had.
“Hi, I’m Adam Watson, and I’m running for a Student Council position this coming week. Tell me, have there been any school issues on your mind?”
On the inside, I was terrified. On the outside, I was sparking conversations left and right.
“What do you feel like is missing from the school?”
“What do you think can make this school better?”
“What do you think the student council should be doing for this school?”
The last one was a sneaky attempt on my part to figure out what student councils actually did for high schools. The campaign, however, was a huge success. Although the school hallways were littered with posters for the other three candidates, people began to approach me in the hallway of their own free will. I started to keep a notepad with me to keep track of their requests and complaints.
Over the next couple of days, my unusual approach to school politics was working. Adam Watson, a nobody, was securing the vote of anybody who knew what the school lacked. That is to say, everyone outside of grade nine. In terms of grade nine, Mr. Graves was absolutely right, it was a popularity contest.
In class, at least for three of them, I couldn’t but help but stare at May, the girl I was smitten with. I had never felt this way about a girl before, and couldn’t stop myself from daydreaming about kissing those full, beautiful lips. Lust tainted my mind as my daydreams quickly turned into images of me grabbing her ass and pulling her into me, that beautiful smile of hers turning mischievous as my hands wander from her ass, exploring every inch of her, ending with my hands on her beautiful tits.
“Do you like them?” she would ask innocently. I would nod slowly and thoroughly. “Well then I guess it’s not fair that this old thing is blocking them, is it?”
My mouth would go dry, my dick as hard as steel. Her eyes would move down my body and sparkle when they got to its destination. “Well, what’s this?” She would ask, her innocent tone gone, replaced by a naughty, mischievous voice, slightly breathy with her panting. Her hand would shamelessly grab me through my pants, and she would press her body up right against mine.
“Looks like someone’s excited.” she would whisper right into my ear, before gently biting on it. She would take a few steps back and start to remove her dress.
“Oh, May…” I couldn’t help but tell her. “I want to see you so badly. You’re so beautiful.” I stared at her as she was getting ready to show me her beautiful body.
“Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them.” she replied in a flat tone.
Huh? No way that was what she said. I shook myself out of my imagination and heard Mrs. Jackson reading aloud To Kill a Mockingbird to the class.
God dammit. It’s not bad enough that she has to read it aloud as if grade nine students can’t read themselves, she also took me out of my fantasy.
I couldn’t help but fantasize. It was the only contact I had with her. Even though it was Friday when I was letting my imagination do its work, I barely talked to May ever since that Monday. Even in drama class, we barley crossed paths. Though I had to say I’m glad she switched in to that class. She was a fantastic actress.
At the end of Friday, I was back under the poster, waiting for people to leave before I had to pack up for my 3:30 bus. Not a lot of people talked to me, though, seeing as it was the end of Friday and they wanted to get home. Plus, I felt with a twinge of pride, most of them had already talked to me.
However, one girl upon seeing the poster stopped in her tracks. The first thing I noticed about her was her smile. The grin she put on when she saw my poster was enough to light up an opera hall. She approached me quickly after she made the discovery.
“Hey there! I dig the poster. Mind if I get a picture of you with it?”
A picture? I felt more and more like a politician. My eyes scanned over her. Jet-black hair ran all the way down to her ass (which I had to admit, was incredibly shapely). She had just the right amount of tan to look really, really attractive. Her blue eyes, which looked drop-dead amazing paired with her hair, stared right into my soul. Although the big show-stopping number were her breasts. She couldn’t have been anything smaller than a solid D-cup, and she wasn’t shy about it, given her v-neck that exposed ample cleavage.
She coughed loudly, and I realized I must have been staring too long. I blushed profusely, and she noticed. To my relief, though, she laughed. “You may not want to blush right before I take a picture, hotshot.” She looked down at her breasts then back at me coolly. “Besides, I get that a lot.” she added flatly, like she didn’t care. “So, picture? Yes or no?”
“Sure!” I exclaimed. She set up her camera as I shifted myself closer to the poster. She readied the shot at looked at me through the lens. “Give me one of those big ol’ politician smiles.” she suggested playfully. Sighing internally, I grinned like a tool as she snapped picture after picture. After a few too many, she stood up and smiled. “I think I got enough. Thanks!”
“Enough for what?” I asked her.
“Oh, didn’t I say?” she flashed me a mischievous grin. “Nicole Baker. I run the school paper, and the yearbook.” she outstretched a hand.
“Nice to meet you.” I said hesitantly as I shook her hand. I turned my head, still shaking her hand, and noticed my watch. 3:37. “Oh crud!” I yelped.
“You’re not the best at shaking hands either, but I wasn’t gonna say anything.” Nicole said, another smile forming.
“It’s not that. I missed my bus!” I exclaimed, still looking at my watch.
“Jeez, you’re screwed, aren’t you?” Nicole said with absolutely no concern in her voice.
“It’s not funny, I don’t have any other way of getting home!” I said, quickly packing up my poster. Not that it would help much if I was stranded.
Nicole just laughed and crossed her arms. “Relax, kiddo,” she said calmly. “I can drive ya home.”
“Really?” I asked her, my eyes lit with relief. She simply nodded, and picked up her camera bag.
“Let’s go.” was all she said as she walked towards the front doors. I followed, not knowing what I was about to get into.
“So, you can drive?” I asked as she unlocked her car, trying to make conversation. When I got in, she looked at me with one eyebrow cocked.
“No, I can’t. This is all illegal. I even stole this car.” With lowered eyelids, she rolled her eyes and started the car. Taking my silence as a sign, she continued. “I’m 16, you know. Most grade 12’s and some grade 11’s are able to drive. It’s not like I’m the odd girl out.”
I noticed a problem with being around her – I could not stop staring at her breasts. As she backed out of the spot, she caught me looking and smiled slightly, lowering one eyebrow. “Something on your mind?” She challenged me, grabbing her boob and squeezing it.
My mouth hung open at her obscene gesture, but she just laughed it off. “You’re not the first, squirt.” She said, starting to drive. “And you definitely won’t be the last. Now, what’s the address?”
Nervously, I gave her my address. She nodded slowly, her smile only widening. “I think I know where that is.” She told me. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
Frankly, I was still trying to catch my breath. I can’t believe she just did that in front of me. I was not used to her spontaneous nature at all. Maybe the spontaneous life wasn’t for me…
All of a sudden, the text alert on her phone went off. “Hey Adam, can you get that?” she asked me. I nodded. With her eyes still on the road, she handed me her phone. I turned it on, and it read ‘1 new text message.’ Well gee, thanks.
I unlocked the phone and gasped. Holy shit! This girl had fucking porn open on her phone! It was a picture of guy plowing a girl with long black hair, a cheesy orgasmic look on both of their faces. She chose the girl’s look intentionally, no doubt, which made me chuckle, but I was still in shock.
“So what does it say?” she asked me impatiently. I immediately exited the internet app, and looked at her messages. Some guy named Phil Love was asking her if she thought it was a success. I had no clue what ‘it’ was, but I knew not to pry.
“Phil Love asks if you think it’s a success.” I said flatly.
“Oh, okay.” she responded. “Tell him, ‘I hope so, we’ll have to wait and see.'”
As I typed, my curiosity got the better of me. “What’s the success?” I asked.
“Extracurricular thing.” Was all Nicole said. “Hey, do me a favor. I may need to contact you about the picture thing, so I assume you have a phone… Could you add yourself to my contacts?”
“Uh, sure.” I said as I tried to figure out how her phone worked. When I got to her contacts, I was surprised at how many she had. I guess being in grade 11 gave you time to become popular, especially if you’re not shy like she was… After I input myself as a contact, I looked over her other contacts and found Phil again. Phil Love? Seriously? It sounded like a porn name. I immediately got a wave of jealousy after the thought entered my mind that she and Phil were a thing. “Are you and Phil…?” I asked her hesitantly.
She turned to me for a second, and grinned. “Aw, is someone jealous?” She asked me. I simply shifted in my seat. “Nah, I’m not the type to get tied down. No strings attached, that kind of thing.”
My mouth went dry, and I caught myself staring at her tits again. “I see.” was all I could muster.
She caught my glance, and giggled to herself. She came to a red light, and rolled up the windows. “Y’know, like this.” she said simply as she lifted her shirt over her head.
Firstly, she did it with little trouble, despite wearing a seatbelt. I was impressed. Secondly, she wasn’t wearing a fucking bra. There she was, her tits on full display, sucking the seatbelt in between them. “Like ’em?” she asked me. In a word, they were amazing. They were big on her frame, but not too big, and amazingly, barely sagged. They were globe-shaped and beautiful, and it took all of my energy not to reach forth and grab them. Each of her tits was crowned by a beautiful pink nipple that was the size of a silver dollar. I had a weakness for large nipples, and her areolae were beautifully large. I started to salivate just looking at them. Either she was cold in the brisk October weather, or she was turned on by this too, because her nipples stood out a visible distance, at least half an inch. To me, there was never a more perfect set of boobs on the planet, and I got to see them up close and personal. I was as hard as rock, and my lust went into overdrive. My dick strained against my jeans, and I had to press down on my jeans to relieve the pain. All I could do was stare as she faced forward and drove. “Don’t be shy,” she added. “I saw you looking at them over and over. Well, this way you get what you want, and I honestly don’t really care. If you like ’em, go ahead.” I nodded eagerly and held my stare. The rest of the drive was a blur, since none of us said a word and my eyes were fixed on her beautiful, full breasts.
“I think we’re here.” Nicole finally said. I too my gaze off of her tits and to my dismay, she was right. We were in my driveway.
“Ah, right.” I said, trying to compose myself. “Of course. Thanks for the ride.”
She just stared at me expectantly for a few seconds before rolling her eyes. “Boy, you do NOT know how high school works, do you?” she asked, pulling her seat back. She motioned for me to come forward with her finger.
“Huh?” was all I could ask.
“Get over here. Sit on me if you have to.” She told me, her tone getting more and more frustrated.
Confused, I complied. I undid my seatbelt and stepped over the console, until I was right in front of her.
“Have you ever done this before?” Nicole asked me softly.
“Use your imagination, genius.” she told me, grabbing my hands and moving them up to her tits. They felt absolutely amazing… Soft yet firm, beautifully smooth, and very warm. Nevertheless, I was still frozen in place. “C’mon.” she coaxed me. “I had the good nature to drive you home, and I’m horny as fuck. So do us both a favor and pay me back for the ride, okay? Just start moving your hands, I’ll tell you what to do.”
I started moving my hands, planted on her breasts, in circles. “Good,” she sighed. “Now squeeze, but not too hard.” I squeezed lightly, then caressed her breasts. She leaned back and sighed once more, which I took as a sign. Before I had any idea what I was doing, I took both of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger and rolled them around. I loved the feeling of her nipples, which clearly stood out more than a half inch, despite my previous observation. Her sighs evolved into soft gasps. “Not bad, rookie.” she said, slightly out of breath.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. One minute, I was a nobody. And just by signing up for a student club, I was already tweaking a girl’s nipples in her car. Maybe mom was right. Maybe I just need to be spontaneous.
And spontaneous I was. I looked up to Nicole’s face and saw that she had the lightest hint of a blush on her face, her eyes closed in slight ecstasy. Without knowing for sure if I should, I lowered my mouth to her left nipple and started to caress it with my tongue. I didn’t dive in immediately, I was subtle. I teased. I lightly brushed my tongue around her areola, earning an ‘ooh’ from her as my touch became more and more distant, more and more delicate. After about a solid minute of this, I used all the strength my tongue could muster and flicked her nipple.
“Ooooh…” she moaned. “You’re a fast learner, aren’t you, squirt?”
I released her nipple from my tongue’s spell. “Well, I just figured I-”
“Shut it.” she commanded as she forced my mouth back on to her nipple. She pushed my mouth too far and my whole mouth was now on her boob, but I figured I should just roll with it. With my tongue still playing with her gorgeous pink nipple, I started to suck. She sharply inhaled, and began to squirm around.
“Oooooh, baby…” she moaned. She opened her eyes and saw my mom’s car. She bolted upright and pointed to it. “Somebody’s home?!” she asked, genuine fear in her eyes. “What if someone sees us?”
Another rush of confidence filled me, just when I needed it. “Don’t worry.” I said with a tone of control in my voice. “Mom works from home, at her computer. It’s nowhere near the driveway. Trust me, we won’t get caught. Now may I continue?”
At first, she was shocked that the shy little kid she was controlling was being so authoritative. Her expression soon shifted from shock to her trademark mischievous smile as she lay back down. “Go to town.” She told me as she closed her eyes. Instead, though, I experimented. My tongue, instead of going back to her pink, large nipple, started to lick between her amazing boobs and travelled upwards, stopping to play with her collarbone.
“What are you doing?” She asked, now panting. My tongue started to drift away from her collarbone and she quickly added, “Don’t fucking answer that.” My tongue went back to work, travelled up to her neck and from there, my primal instinct took over. I tilted my head and began to kiss and suck her neck. She responded in vigor, wrapping her arm around my head and pulling me in.
“Ooooh, Adam…” she cooed. I bit her neck gently, and she yelped. I was worried that I hurt her, until I realized that her squirming got more intense. Biting her neck turned her on! I figured I’d put this information to good use as I trailed downwards, leading with my tongue of course, until it sat on her right tit, playing delicately with her other nipple. After a few seconds of delicate teasing, I dove right in and began to suck her tit for all it was worth.
“Ahh!” She gasped. I sucked harder and harder, causing her to push me further into her chest, mashing my head into her boob until I felt like I was going to suffocate. I still didn’t give up, sucking and sucking, until she let me go and I was allowed to breathe again. Once I did, I continued my oral assault on her tit, this time using my teeth. At first, my teeth grazed her nipple, but before long, I was full-on biting her tit. “Yeeeesssssss…” she hissed as I used my tongue and teeth together, torturing and pleasing her nipple.
I noticed that her hips were starting to buck, and her free hand was playing with her unoccupied tit. I took one of my hands and used it to push me further into her breast, until I decided to up the ante. My hand slid down her shirtless body and down to her left thigh, where I began to rub up and down. Nicole was moaning at this point. I decided to keep things going and moved my hand to cup her mound. Her body jolted and she opened her eyes, panting yet smiling at me.
“What’s the rush, hotshot?” she asked me. I didn’t want to stop, but I knew when someone didn’t want to continue. Blushing myself, wondering if I did something wrong, I moved back to my seat in the car.
“Was… was that…” I began.
“You were great, squirt.” Nicole said, grinning at me. “I just wanna leave something for next time. That is, if you wanna ever do this again.” She added with a wink.
“Fucking yes I do!” I said, realizing only after the language I used. She only laughed and began to put her shirt back on. I noticed that her right nipple was redder from all the attention I gave her. She caught me staring and just winked again.
As I exited the car, I added, “I’m sorry for dragging you all the way out here just to drop me off.”
She smiled at me and played with her nipple through her shirt. “Given what you did for me, I think you paid that favor back, and then some.” she said slyly. She paused from talking, but kept playing with her tit until her other hand joined in. She began to buck her hips again, and got really into it. Her hands went under her shirt and she kept playing with her nipples, and she began panting. Suddenly, she opened her eyes, and softly muttered, “Fuck.” It seemed like I really turned her on, I thought with a wave of pride.
She then looked forward for a bit, then looked back to me. “Do me a favor.” she started. “Keep watching this car until it disappears into the distance. Can you do that for me?”
It was a weird request, but I just got to suck her amazing nipples, who was I to argue? I removed my backpack from the car and said “Sure…” hesitantly. She grinned and added, “And keep your phone on. I have a feeling I’ll be texting you tonight.”
I closed the door after calling out, “Thanks again.”
Through the window, I could hear a muffled, “No, thank you.” as she cupped her mound and bucked her hips once. She slowly blinked, then composed herself and shifted gears.
I watched as Nicole backed out of my driveway, then went on to the road. Wow, what a sexual devil, I thought to myself. I wonder if she did that with everyone, or just liked me… I felt sad as I thought that she probably did it to everyone who asked, and I was nothing special. Although, that certainly wasn’t going to stop me from doing that with her again. Even though her car was still within earshot, already I wanted another go at sucking her tits dry.
Unsure why she asked me to, I watched her car as it began to speed down the road, until she slowed down. Had she forgotten something? She then did something totally unexpected – she turned into the driveway of the house two houses down from me. She was my neighbor! I could see that she got out of her car, and with an over-exaggerated motion, blew me a kiss as she walked off. I laughed to myself and started to walk back towards my house, a spring in my step and a smile on my face. I think I was going to enjoy this year after all.
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