“Fuck you!!” the voice of an angry girl rang through the halls of Hazelwood. “You know what?! Fine, go ahead! I bet -you – I bet you just want to fuck Tia anyways!”
The boy she addressed donned a disgusted expression and reflexively looked around the main hall. Luckily, classes had been finished for long enough to ensure most of the students were gone. It looked like the only student left in the main hallway was some older student in some… imitation leather jacket? He had thick headphones on and was writing in some textbook. Even if he could hear her shriek, he clearly wasn’t paying attention.
“I told you,” the boy told her in a quieter yet just as angry voice, “I’m allowed to have female friends. Just because Tia and I want to hang out sometimes does not mean I’m cheating on you, Krystal. How about you grow up and let me be myself?!”
Krystal just laughed dismissively in an over-the-top fashion. “Yeah, okay. I’ve seen the texts you sent her, y’know. I-”
“So you did look at my phone!!” the boy accused, throwing a finger in her face accusingly. “You told me I was crazy!”
“No, I didn’t lo- n-no, I didn’t say you were crazy. You’re just trying to make me look b-”
It was the boy’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, that’s it, think about which lie is going to make you look the best this time. Because that’s what you do, Krystal. It’s all about what makes you look good. It’s never about us, it’s all about you. Every ti-”
“Don’t change the subject, Tyler!” she growled. “I saw what you sent her and it goes fucking way beyond friends! It goes way beyond what friends say to each other! It g- it goes way beyond!”
“Does it also go way beyond? Or-”
“Fuck you,” she spat. “You know what? If you’re not going to actually talk to me like a human being about this, we’re done.”
“Sorry, done?” Tyler asked, his voice changing. “What do you-”
“Yeah. Done. We’re done. Go fuck Tia all you want now, because you’re now single, Tyler,” Krystal huffed, storming off.
Tyler started to walk, then run, after the girl. “Krystal, you can’t just – you can’t be fucking serious-!”
The voices became echoes down the hallway as the freshmen Romeo and Juliet ran off dramatically. About ten full seconds went by before the senior student on the bench slowly exhaled and removed his headphones.
He brought his head up from his book, smirking confidently down the hallway. With his hand moving just as smugly as his face looked, he turned the page of his notebook. February, February, February… his eyes scanned until they found it. ‘February.’ His pointer finger descended the page until he found his previously scrawled prediction.
‘Tyler R. and Krystal E. break up.’
With one last smug motion, he checked the box. He was batting 900 this month, and there were still a few days left. Not bad. While he was there, he re-examined his February predictions, then realized there were a few clear patterns there. His eyes slowly opened in realization. If Krystal was now single, then surely… yes, the freshmen art show. Of course. It was so simple. Why didn’t he see it before?
He swiftly turned the page to March, then scribbled down a few more predictions. He read them, then re-read them, then nodded. Today was a good day.
Even so, he sighed as he stood up. What a day. He was glad he was able to be on the ground floor of this event, but the secondhand emotional energy drained him. He shuddered and picked up his bag, sauntering down the hallway.
He had barely turned the corner before seeing a blip at the end of the hallway. as he got closer, he discovered it was a very sullen Tyler at his locker. Clearly the poor guy lost the war that day. Or at least, thought he did. They were so clearly terrible for each other, but it was never Paul’s duty to cause the breakups. That would be immoral.
That said, it didn’t mean Paul was entirely an outsider. As he approached, he slowed, then paused, taking off his headphones. “Are you okay? You look kinda…”
The boy sighed, closing his locker. “Um, it’s been a bad day,” he managed.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Paul replied in a genuinely sympathetic voice. Some people benefited from Paul making it clear he knew exactly what was happening, and some people didn’t. It was abundantly clear that Tyler preferred the latter. “It didn’t happen to do with… I mean, I didn’t hear anything, but I saw some sort of… thing happen when I was sitting down earlier, and…”
Tyler sighed, shrugged, and nodded. “Um, yeah,” he feebly replied. “That was my gir- uh, my ex-girlfriend. Today we had a fight, and… well, you know. That was the last one, I guess.”
“Shit, huh?” Paul replied gingerly. He looked back at the main hallway to imply he was recontextualizing what he saw. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I was just sitting there when it all happened.”
“All good,” Tyler admitted, then chuckled. “It’s not like you were butting in or trying to be that weird third person that tells us to stop or something. That would have sucked.”
Paul nodded sympathetically. “Totally. It’s like, ‘hey, even if this is dumb, let me be dumb here on my own,’ you know? Some people want to control others.”
“Exactly!” Tyler said with enthusiasm. “And, like, if I can be honest with you, that’s what… that girl you saw, she was kinda like that. She kept having to, like, check up on what I was saying, and who I was saying it to, and whether it was up to her weird standards.”
“Ugh, that’s the worst,” Paul agreed. “Hey, since we’re talking… Paul Stevens.” He held out a hand.
“Tyler Morris,” the other boy said with a slight smile, shaking it heartily. “And thanks for letting me vent. Like, I know it’s not nice to say but… some people… I mean, some people just need to show some fucking respect. Is that mean to say?”
“Not at all,” Paul warmly replied, shaking his head. “If you’re not feeling respected, then… you’re not feeling respected, that’s important to know, right?” He looked behind him again. “I’m actually about to drive home. Do you need a ride?”
Tyler smiled and nodded. Paul smiled back. What a double win – clearly Tyler needed a friend right now, and plus, Paul was learning more about the guy from each thing he said. At this rate, he was going to be able to know what Tyler was thinking before Tyler did.
***
“Even in your own story,” Mike mused, arms folded, shaking his head, “you’re still the goddamn personification of the surveillance state.”
“I was meaning to ask,” Tiffany piped up, “How accurate were those predictions, anyway? Like, how many did you get righ-”
“Were?! How do you know he hasn’t stopped?” Mike asked. “He’s probably gonna go home and make some notes about us!”
“I knew you were going to say that,” Paul said in a jokingly threatening tone towards Mike.
“Ahh!” Mike joked back, throwing his hands up.
The group chuckled and Paul put his elbows on the table. “So, I ran the numbers,” Paul said, scratching his cheek, then noticed Mike was about to fire off another one-liner. “Shut up,” he joked pre-emptively, pointing at Mike. “I had a ninety-two percent accuracy rate.”
Burton chuckled dismissively, and began to mime jotting something down in a notebook. “June. Paul is a fucking nerd.”
Mike grinned and joined in. “June, Paul continues to treat human beings like chess pieces.”
Paul laughed it off and shrugged. “People are cool, I like people,” he reasoned. “Can I continue?”
***
Paul’s hands moved with precision and dexterity as he unlocked his locker. He liked to challenge himself by seeing how quickly he could open his locker by fumbling. One day he’d manage to open the damn thing by spinning it in three motions. Today was not that day, but a guy could dream.
Even though Mike’s locker was two down from his, Paul kept to himself, humming Dvorak’s New World Symphony to himself. Paul may have liked people, but… only on his own time. If he felt like it, he was an extrovert. And if he didn’t, he was an introvert. Simple as that.
Given this, he almost felt disturbed when he felt someone’s finger prodding awkwardly into his shoulder. Almost recoiling at the touch, he spun around to see the least likely of people looking at him – Emily.
Emily was a girl from his homeroom, and, frankly, the school’s public enemy number one. She didn’t do anything to deserve that kind of negative attention aside from being heavily on the autism spectrum and daring to exist in a public high school with such a condition. Paul had no quarrel with her, but like virtually everyone, he also didn’t really associate with her. Not only did no one in a high school dare associate with the primary bullying target, no matter who the person was, for their own reputation’s sake; she was also an extreme introvert herself. Not only did she rarely speak during class, but even when she did, she would sometimes find speaking too difficult and resort to using a voice-to-text speaker to communicate. As such, teachers – evidently not too keen on her either – would tell her to just email them after class, sometimes in an exasperated way. This garnered her the unfortunate nickname of “Emaily,” although with the way Hazelwood’s kids could sometimes get creative with vindictive nicknames, it could have been worse.
She probably got only that nickname thanks to the fact that nothing physical about her could really stick as a nickname. Even though she had an oblivious face, it wasn’t not pretty, and although she was verging on chubby, frankly, each class of hers had fatter contenders to bully; some of them themselves being popular students. While the popular crowds liked to jeer and tease their fatter members or even themselves, fat-shaming wasn’t really that popular at Hazelwood, at least as far as Paul saw. Still, her weight meant that she was rather gifted in the chest department. Paul once overheard students talking about Emily’s breasts and noting what a “shame” it was that she was “retarded.” He may not have associated with her and he may have been a student himself, but… come on, even he knew it was tasteless.
“Oh, hey,” Paul clumsily started, after staring at her for a few seconds but getting silence. “Emily, right? What can I do for you?”
“H-hello,” Emily said with some difficulty, having to put emphasis on both syllables and avoiding eye contact. “I missed c-… c-… class. You are in my class. My cousin Tyler says you’re very nice. I need notes. I missed class. Please give me notes.”
Paul had to chuckle at the boldness of her words, even if he knew she wasn’t meaning to be bold. He had a few autistic friends, even if “autistic” wasn’t a monolith and it meant different things for different people. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he replied. “You just need notes from homeroom, right? What’s your email? I type up my notes, if you’re cool with that.”
Emily just stared at him.
Paul narrowed his eyes. “Like, if you’re okay with my notes being typed.”
“I am okay with your notes being typed,” Emily replied, then gave him her email address.
“Sure thing! I can even send them to you before the end of lunch if you’d like that,” Paul mentioned, making a mental note to open his laptop before lunch ended.
“Yes,” Emily said, then turned and walked away without another word.
Paul nodded and went back to his locker, humming again, but heard a sound two lockers away. He turned to see Mike snickering. “What?” Paul asked.
“You’re emailing Emaily now, huh?” Mike asked.
Paul rolled his eyes. “Oh, grow up,” he huffed. Sadly, Mike refused to, and just kept giggling. Eventually, Paul’s expression turned to Mike and gave him an ‘I don’t get it’ shrug.
“Dude, it is clear as day that she has a huge crush on you,” Mike insisted more seriously.
Paul’s look, if anything, turned more incredulous. “Yeah, because everyone knows autistic people are great with making social cues and making things clear as day,” he rebutted, then caught himself and stuck a finger up in the air. “Some autistic people,” he corrected himself. “I’m aware that across the spec-”
“I’m not saying she was batting her eyes and going all, ‘Oh Paulllll, make out with me Paulllll,’” he began to explain.
“No shit.”
“But dude, she doesn’t talk to anyone. Ever,” Mike reasoned. “Especially if she doesn’t have to. She wasn’t even using that Stevie Hawking thing she carries around with her.”
“Stephen Hawki-”
“Just saying dude, I’m calling it now, and that’s normally your thing. She’s got it bad for you.”
Paul shook his head. “She asked me for class notes, you idiot,” he replied. “She just cares about her grades. Some people do, even if you don’t. Not everything between a boy and girl has to be romantic.”
Mike just shrugged, his smile not disappearing.
***
Mike was sporting a shit-eating grin by this point. “So this is your story, huh? Go on,” he replied, unable to hide his smugness.
Paul sighed. “Hey, remember that we’re all sharing bad stories here,” he reminded him. “And go figure, me talking to her wasn’t the bad part. I feel zero shame about that, and hell, I felt zero shame about it then too.” He pointed a finger at Mike. “You were the one to refer to her by the name bullies used.”
Mike’s grin was gone. “Woah, dude, take it easy, I thought we were friends here,” he gingerly replied.
Paul threw his hands up. “Calling it like I see it,” he simply said. “We were all jerks back then.”
“That’s no reason to act like one now,” Mike complained to himself, folding his arms.
“Yeah, c’mon dude, let’s take this shit down a notch,” Burton jumped in.
Paul was flustered by this point, and Tiffany jumped in. “I mean, Paul’s clearly embarrassed about whatever happened next, so Mike, maybe being a bit more sensitive about the fact he was talking to her would help,” she reasoned. “I’m guessing Paul is feeling really vulnerable by telling whatever happened next.”
Wordlessly, Paul gestured to her, indicating he shared her thoughts.
“Alright, whatever. I’m sorry, I guess,” Mike replied.
Paul nodded, and took a breath.
***
It didn’t end there. A few days later, Emily stopped Paul in the hallway for notes again. In her accidentally blunt way, she explained his notes were good and she didn’t think she understood the lesson. It was a reasonable suggestion, and Paul, with a smile, told her he’d be happy to send his along.
Then, a few days later, it happened again. Emily was behind Paul in the line for lunch and asked him if he could break a five dollar bill, although her wording was something more like, “please give me five one-dollar bills and I will give you this five-dollar bill.” Paul had to admit, this was the most he’d ever seen Emily talk to someone. Even so, he had the bills and was happy to oblige. Emily nodded.
The very next day, Emily poked Paul until he turned around at his locker again and confided in him that she couldn’t understand what Mr. Graves, their math teacher, was trying to say sometimes. She promptly asked him for his number so that she could text him during class and ask if he could clarify what Graves meant. Paul cocked his head to the side and noted that she sits in the front row and cell phones during class were strictly forbidden. Emily, unfazed, replied with an absolute banger.
“Everyone in school thinks I’m retarded. That’s what they say. No teacher would want to become the teacher that took the retard’s phone away.”
Paul couldn’t help guffawing at what she said. Fuck what he thought before – that was bold. In response to his laughter at the shock value, Emily surprised him for a second time and beamed.
“I am glad you laughed at that,” she told him. “That was a joke. Sometimes people don’t laugh at my jokes. They just think I’m actually retarded, but I’m not. I’m just autistic.”
“No no, I know what you meant,” Paul replied, still laughing a little. “That just caught me off guard. That was funny. Anyway, uh, yeah, totally I can text you if you want. I’m in the back row in class anyway. What’s your number?” He took out his phone and got her number down.
“Thank you,” Emily said, turning to walk away. She turned back to him and added, “I like talking to you. You are nice to talk to.” She then turned again and walked away without Paul even needing to respond.
“Uh, thanks, you too!” Paul called after her, then moved his mouth around a little in thought.
The next time he saw Mike, he admitted it. “I think you were right about Emily having a crush on me,” he said to his friend.
Mike, sitting at his desk, nodded in agreement. “I know,” he simply replied. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
Paul scoffed. “Nothing,” he replied as if it were obvious. “You know me; single and happier for it. I’ve told you before, Mike: that shit means so little to me.”
Mike rolled his eyes and got ready for the speech Paul gave when this stuff came up, as if he was merely some outsider looking in on high school.
“Why do you think I’m not even bothering to look for a girlfriend when it’s all some guys here can talk about? Honestly, Mike, I’m telling you: I get most of you are hard-wired that way, but I don’t need that to keep going. And I’ll be honest with you, it’s a blessing. It means I get to see these kinds of things objectively. Like, you – no offense – are biased. I’m a rare exception. And another thing-”
***
“Cringe city,” Paul admitted, sighing then taking a nervous sip of his drink. “Thank God I grew up.”
“Enh,” Burton said with a shrug. “At least you got the balls to admit it. And I get it – you were just a virgin and didn’t know what you were missing.”
Tiffany stifled a laugh. “Nah, no way,” she contributed enthusiastically. “Paul had a lotttt of sex with Bri during their relationship.” She paused for effect. “Annnnd after~!” she smugly added.
Paul turned pink at the mention of her name, then looked down. “Hey, uh, let’s not bring up Brianne, okay?” he asked in a smaller voice than his usual confident voice, which he used even during the vulnerable story.
Tiffany and Mike shifted immediately and nodded in understanding, though Burton couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Oh right, bro was whipped,” he roared. “Remember how he showed up one day wearing her sweater? Then he just, like, kept wearing it?”
Tiffany came to Paul’s rescue again. “Remember how you asked us all to take the antagonism down a notch?” she asked him emphatically. “Just because you’re laughing doesn’t make it better.”
Burton abruptly stopped, realizing he had no sympathizers here. “Alright, alright, whatever. Go on,” he grumbled.
***
As had become commonplace for the two, Paul and Emily were talking at his locker afterschool. Paul had to admit, Emily was one of the most misunderstood people in the whole school, even by a practiced guy such as him. Her joke wasn’t a one-off – she had a surprisingly dark sense of humor that, paired with her normal style of talking, always induced some kind of shocked laughter. Paul had never seen anything quite like it, and that fascinated him.
Even so, he was very aware that they were close to passing some kind of threshold. He was okay with her and him being afterschool friends, or even like “secret friends.” Sure, Paul wasn’t popular in the conventional sense, but, he was starting to get connections. The good kind, too. Student Council, the Media Gang, the school prefects, the works. Even though the students were in the wrong to bully her… the side of the school that was weirded out by her heavily outweighed the side of the school that was anything more charitable towards her. Even being ambivalent was a death sentence in some groups. Paul hated the game but… he had to play by the rules.
That made things complicated when Emily looked at her watch, staring blankly at it, and made her next announcement. “I have missed my bus. You have a car. I need you to give me a ride home.”
Paul paused. She definitely wasn’t lying, but also, she could have been more careful not to miss her bus. He had to wonder if this was intentional on her end. Even if it wasn’t, this just meant the next step. Them being seen walking out of the school together, and heck, getting in a car together… Nope. Paul was a nice guy, but he had limits, and sadly, he needed to think of his reputation at some point, as much as it was beneath him.
“Ahhh, uh, sorry Emily, but uh, I have to get home quickly for something really important. I actually might already be late for it, and I can’t afford any more delays. I’m really sorry.”
“I see. Okay. I will find another way home,” Emily noted.
“Okay. Sorry again,” Paul repeated sheepishly.
“You’re saying sorry too much. I know you would drive me if you could. You are a good person,” Emily replied.
God damn, she really made this harder for him. Paul’s face cringed a little at himself as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, thanks for understanding,” he mumbled, before closing his locker and hightailing it out of there. Not just to keep up appearances, but now because being around her was making him feel guilty.
On his way to the back door of the school, Paul passed down the Languages hall. Spanish, one of the English classrooms… Hazelwood even offered French at their school sometimes. It should have been dead quiet afterschool, especially since Paul could see that by this point, no one was at their lockers, and yet… he could have sworn he heard noises. Shuffling, giggling… Paul stopped and listened. Slowly, his eyebrows rose, and he crept up against a door. Whatever it was, it was coming from inside one of the classrooms… and was definitely the kind of activity that made some goings-on at Hazelwood particularly notorious.
Even with his ‘I have to get home now’ story, Paul knew he was a snoop at heart, and couldn’t resist peering inside the room. He was almost smiling to himself as he got ready to peer inside – he wasn’t a voyeur or someone who got a sexual thrill from watching, but he did get a… gleeful energy from it. People, and what they did inside the walls of Hazelwood, were so fascinating. This particular time, though, the near-smile was wiped off of his face instantly.
Who else but the school slut, Nicole, was on her knees blowing some guy. Paul’s eye twitched, his face showing more and more anger, his heart rate increasing. He knew he shouldn’t have cared, but he couldn’t help it. He knew she did it, but watching her do it – to someone else – was a new experience entirely, and it was the kind he absolutely loathed.
Even so, he tried to regulate his breathing and keep his emotions under wraps… until the boy Nicole was oh-so-enthusiastically sucking off leaned his head back and moaned. The unmistakable face of Tyler popped into view. The very same freshman Paul had gladly helped a few weeks ago.
That was the limit. Audibly breathing, shoulders hunched up, Paul walked away from the door window, having seen more than enough. He faced the opposite wall, stared at it for a bit, then pulled his fist back to punch it, only to stop at the last second and emit a long, sad sigh. Even then, afterwards, he hissed out, “Shit!”
Of course, Tyler himself didn’t know any of the context, but… shit! Tyler fucking betrayed him nonetheless. It really was everyone, everyone, that got a chance to try out Nicole, except for the one guy who wanted it the most. The guy she herself got along with amazingly until one day, seemingly randomly, she didn’t. It was like God Himself punished Paul that day by turning his biggest crush ever against him without him having done anything at all to piss her off. Even Nicole herself wouldn’t tell him, or even acknowledge there was anything wrong he did, but all the same, she was just cold as ice to him one day.
And he’d seen her get with god damn everyone. Shy dweebs, asshole jocks, stuck-up rich kids… even guys she herself clearly hated. Just not Paul. Never Paul. It never got to be Paul, even if she was the exception to him, the one girl that never failed to make his heart jump. Even if, way back when, their chemistry was electric, better than the chemistry he ever had with anyone before or since. Paul would have bet money it was the same thing for Nicole.
He knew the stories. He’d heard the accounts. But to see it, and with Tyler… he drove Tyler home. He comforted the guy. He’d texted the guy for a full week afterwards, comforting him whenever the guy wanted. And then he just goes and does this? No. Fuck them. Fuck them both.
Paul was never going to burst in on them. He was never even going to report it to the principal. But what he was going to do, was anything he could do to flush this bitter rejection out of his mind forever. Paul needed to move on from Nicole. He knew he made mistakes before but he could always see afterwards what he did wrong. He never did anything wrong to Nicole, not god damn once. He not only had the best of intentions with her, he had the best of actions too. The very existence of Nicole at this point mocked Paul, and he just needed to disengage. Hell, what did this stupid blowjob mean to Tyler anyway? He could enjoy using the school whore’s mouth; Paul was going to ensure Nicole meant nothing to him anymore. Absolutely nothing.
Paul practically marched back the way he came, and didn’t gun for his locker; he gunned for Emily’s. Luckily she was standing at it, and Paul swallowed his anger and tried his best to look neutral as he opened his mouth.
“Hey!” he greeted her casually. “So, as luck would have it, the, uh, important thing was straight-up cancelled. I just got the text informing me now. So if you still need that ride, I can totally drive you.”
Emily looked up from her phone. “This is good. Yes. Let’s leave.”
Paul did his best to hide his anger and frustration, and to avoid the Languages hall like the plague as he walked towards the back door. Helpfully, Emily was happy to lead the conversation. “I like that you told me your plans had changed even though you already left. That was good. You are fantastic.”
Paul hesitated as he walked. “Fantastic?” he repeated. “That’s a strong word, isn’t it?”
“I have heard you use that word a lot lately,” Emily explained. “I guessed that it means a lot to you. I wanted to use a word that means a lot to you. Maybe I’m wrong.”
Woah. Paul… had used that word a lot lately – he recently rewatched Doctor Who and thought Christopher Eccleston’s Doctor was underrated – but… someone noticing that? And then using it just because they figured he’d like it? That was…
“That’s… incredibly sweet of you, Emily,” Paul found himself saying. “Like… wow. That’s really considerate.”
“Oh, I wasn’t wrong then?” Emily asked. “Good. I wanted to make you happy.”
Paul scoffed to himself. Shit. Emily was nice. Really fucking nice. Why the fuck was he pining after a girl who’d treated him like shit like Nicole when someone in his life was being this kind to him…?
Paul was silent until he got into the car, but once he started it, he huffed. “People at the school are way too mean to you,” he began.
“Yes,” Emily responded.
“You make me feel really good about myself, you know,” Paul kept going. “I wish I could make you feel good about yourself too.”
“That’s a strange thing to say. You do make me feel good about myself,” Emily told him. “You talk to me and make me feel like a person. I want to do more things and I think about kissing you a lot but what we are doing is nice.”
Paul couldn’t help but quietly belt out a laugh again. That was Emily. Always blunt.
“I should not have said that,” Emily added quietly. “I forgot that people find knowing that weird. Can we move on or did I just make you want to ruin the friendship?”
Paul chuckled. “No no, it’s okay,” he admitted. He looked her in the eyes even though Emily never made eye contact. “I already knew, and I don’t mind. I just… I have to admit, I’m not looking for a relationship right now, at all.”
“I understand. Relationships are annoying,” Emily replied. “There are a lot of expectations and emotions are too unpredictable. I’ve watched a lot of couples fighting and the fights are always about stupid things.”
“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Paul admitted, then started driving. He paused. “I, uh… If we’re being honest, I really do appreciate how much you care, and… how do you feel about no-strings-attached stuff?”
“I don’t understand what that means. You need to clarify,” Emily replied.
“How do you feel about doing things like…” Paul gulped. Wow, saying these sorts of things directly was a whole new level of vulnerability, but Emily put herself on the line for him. Plus, if anything, she wouldn’t be the type to stop talking to him even if she rejected him. “Like kissing and having sex but staying friends with people, without being in a relationship?”
“Oh, I think I would enjoy that a lot,” Emily responded. “I have never done anything like that with a boy. I am a virgin. I don’t want to be a virgin but it is hard to lose my virginity.”
“Well, would you be okay losing your virginity to someone who isn’t a boyfriend? Like, just to a friend?” Paul asked, his nerves rising.
“Yes,” Emily responded, “but it depends on which friend.”
“Well…” Now or never. “What if the friend was me?”
“Yes,” Emily responded instantly. “I have a big crush on you and I think you are attractive. I have touched myself and thought about you.” She shook her head. “That was weird for you to hear.”
“I’ve heard weirder,” Paul chuckled. “I don’t mind. It’s… flattering. And, uh… I think you are attractive too.”
Emily’s breathing quickened and she looked right at Paul. “You need to tell me right now if you are joking. Please only tell me that if you are being serious.”
“I’m being serious, Emily,” Paul reassured her. “If you want, we can fool ar- we can, uh… I can pull over this car and finger you. I think you’re attractive and you care about me, and we can be friends with benefits.” Realizing quickly, he added, “That means ‘friends that do sexual activities with each other.’”
Emily started blushing and looked out the window. Her wrists started rotating back and forth and she started bouncing in her seat. “Yes, I would enjoy that. I want to do that. We should do that.”
Paul nodded, biting his lip and thinking about where he could park to get away with it. This wasn’t his first rodeo, but still… As he drove, he realized something. “But before we can do anything, I need to know in no uncertain terms that you know what’s happening and consent.”
“I understand the ramifications of having sex, Paul.” Emily replied. If he was a betting man, he might have guessed that she was saying that with her own version of a sarcastic smirking tone. “I want this, and would enjoy it. I know what sex is and can decide if I want it.” She paused. “I want to speak my mind fully. I think that people thinking I can’t know what sex is and therefore I can never want it is mean. I think it is mean if people think I can never have it. I am a person and I am also horny a lot of the time.”
Paul nodded slowly. “Okay, point taken. I apologize.”
“People say I speak weirdly but that does not mean I am a child or not a person. I am eighteen and I am very horny. I want to have sex with you.”
Despite her thorough takedown of him, Paul was moved. He also couldn’t deny it – her body was hot. She had curves in a lot of the right places, and he bet that if there wasn’t a social stigma attached to being autistic, she would be labeled as a hottie by a lot of the people at his school.
“I just said a lot of negative things. I’m going to say positive things to make things better,” Emily added. “You are nice to me. You make me feel like I am understood. You are one of the only people to make me feel like I’m being perceived as autistic instead of retarded. I like that. I feel comfortable around you. I am normally nervous if I think about the first time someone touches me. I am still nervous here, but maybe in a good way. I want you to go slow when you start.” She was doing the happy hands again.
Paul smiled, nodding. “I will, don’t worry,” he reassured her. Eventually, he found a relatively empty parking lot and turned to park at a strategic spot. Once he pulled over, he turned off the car and moved his seat back. Emily looked at his seat going back then moved her seat back too.
“Okay, so, I know this can be pretty vulnerable, so I want to make it clear: if you ever don’t like what I’m doing, you can say ‘stop’ and I will stop, no questions asked,” Paul gently began. “If you want to do something else because what I’m doing no longer feels good but you want to try something else, you can say ‘pause.’”
Emily nodded. “I like that.”
Paul nodded back and instructed Emily to remove her pants and underwear. Breathing heavily in anticipation, Emily complied, both shyly yet bluntly exposing her pussy to him. She spread her legs for him, blushing heavily.
Paul looked for a bit, mesmerized. It felt really good to do this. “Your pussy looks really attractive, Emily…” he softly told her, then reached forwards. He wasn’t about to claim he was the most experienced guy on the planet, but he also was nowhere near a novice. The bulk of his experience came from one girl, but luckily, it translated well. As soon as he began to rub Emily’s slit up and down, her blush deepened, and she buried her face into her shoulder opposite Paul. “Mmh, mmh…” she hummed.
“Is that a good noise or is it uncomfortable?” Paul asked.
“It’s a good noise, keep going,” Emily replied into her shoulder.
Paul happily complied, rubbing her slit up and down, admiring how wet it got while his own cock throbbed hard in his pants. Emily kept humming “Mmh, mhhh,” into her shoulder, beginning to move her hips into Paul’s hand.
Paul started to alternate between rubbing her slit up and down and rubbing her clit, which at first rewarded him with a few louder “Mmh”s, though eventually Emily shut her legs, trapping Paul’s hand. “Pause. I’m very sensitive there. Please finger me instead.”
Paul managed to wiggle his hand free, and told her he understood. Emily cautiously opened her legs again and Paul went to work again, this time inserting one finger into her. Emily moaned and gave a simple “yes” with a deep blush, emboldening him to continue. This was really exciting. This was her first time experiencing something like this, and he got to be there with her for it! He was finding himself very glad to be pleasing her.
Emily began to grind against Paul’s hand again and he felt emboldened enough to slip a second finger inside her. She clearly liked it and began grinding on his hand again, rewarding him with her love juice. The girl got very wet, and very into it, moaning and humming away, enjoying his fingers.
Paul was glad the duo were in a car with no windows down in a secluded parking lot, because as Emily got really into it, she started to moan in an absolutely unrestrained way. She started quiet, but once she got going, she got loud. Enjoying the effect he had on her, Paul kept going, and Emily kept moaning, slamming against his hand. The sounds of Emily’s moans and the wet shk-shk-shk of his palm hitting her pubic mound filled the car, and the windows began to steam up. Emily was enjoying herself so much that a satisfied and almost drunken smile began to paint her face, and she began to look adoringly at Paul, almost drooling.
“P-Paul…” she cooed, then quickly added, “Don’t stop. Keep going. Are you going to have sex with me too?”
Paul looked at her, half surprised, even as he continued to finger her. “Um, I’m not sure! Do-”
“I want you to have sex with me,” she moaned, before adding some “mmh”s. “Please! Can we do it now?”
Wow. Paul definitely succeeded in warming this girl up. Paul bit his lip and cheekily added, “Only if you let me see your breasts.”
As if it was the most normal and least shameful action in the world, Emily took off her shirt, then her bra, allowing her large breasts to spill into view. “Boys like breasts,” she noted out loud, then started to heft them, playing with her nipples. “I want your penis more than your fingers. Please!”
Paul smiled, eager to acquiesce. He reluctantly took his fingers out of her, then began to remove his pants and his underwear in one fell swoop, glancing at the windows to ensure no one was nearby. The windows were too foggy to notice, but if they were fogged up from the inside and tinted from the outside in a locked car, they were safe.
Once his dick sprang into view, Paul thought Emily was going to start drooling for real. “You have an attractive penis,” she said with admiration. He chuckled – he was pretty sure he was average, but he was content with that – then maneuvered the two into the backseats as best as he could then ensured there was enough room for the two.
Paul got nervous as he angled his cock at her awaiting pussy. “And you’re sure y-”
“I consent to this, Paul. Teach me about sex,” she told him.
Damn. She could be… seductive when she wanted to. That was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly he pushed inside, deducing for himself without a doubt that “hymens are supposed to break the first time” was indeed a myth. Thanks to their foreplay and her lubrication, it was a snug yet heavenly fit.
“Oh, oh wow, oh, oh, oh,” Emily began moaning, nearly out of control, from the stimulation of being filled. “Yes. Have sex with me. Fuck me. Please.”
Paul gladly provided, beginning to thrust over and over inside Emily’s beautiful glistening pussy. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in, her big beautiful breasts moving around with each motion the two made. Her nipples were hard as rocks, and her eyes were nearly crossed with pleasure. Paul was showing Emily the time of her life… and Emily was no slouch, either.
Maybe Paul was wrong. Maybe he liked sex just as much as anyone else, but he just needed the right girl to show him what’s up. He reached forward with a hand, playing with one of Emily’s nipples, while she moaned and ground back up against his cock. She was certainly a fast learner… and an eager one too.
Paul’s thrusts picked up speed, and he heard Emily moan and almost shout, “Just like that! I like it faster~!”
Paul rose to the challenge, pounding her as fast as he could muster, with her practically screaming her pleasure. It was very apparent when her orgasm began to approach, with the telltale signs of her screams, her wetness, and her muscles convulsing cluing Paul in. He wanted to give her the best orgasm he could… and judging from the way her body spasmed and writhed, that was exactly what he gave her.
Emily practically had heart signs in her eyes as she slowed down, looking right at Paul. It was so clear to both of them that they were having the time of their lives… and that neither of them wanted this to be a one-time thing.
***
Tiffany paused. “Isn’t this a weird consent thing…?” she asked gingerly. “I mean, Emily was… y’know…”
Paul, borderline expecting this, just rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “Okay, here we go,” he began. “So what’s the issue here, exactly? When the sexes are reversed, it’s the greatest romance movie of the nineties, but when it’s a girl it’s suddenly assault no matter what?”
Burton’s look turned dumbfounded. “Jack from Titanic was retarded?!” he blurted out.
Mike squeezed the bridge of his nose between his eyes and closed his eyes in exasperation. “Burton, dude…” he began annoyedly.
“What? Oh – sorry,” Burton replied. “Jack from Titanic was on the spectrum?”
“Okay, sure, better, but that’s not what we-”
“I explicitly asked for her consent, Tiff, and you heard how she responded,” Paul pointed out. “Like, yeah, it’s important to acknowledge that it’s easier to take sexual advantage in those situations, but she kinda spelled out in every single way that she was aware of what was going on and wanted it. Like, given that, I gotta ask, if that’s still a grey area: what wouldn’t be a grey area for someone like her? At what point would you feel comfortable with her having her own autonomy?”
Tiffany thought to herself, and stayed silent for longer than she would have liked. “Shit,” she acknowledged. “Alright, you got me. I never thought of it like that.”
Mike shrugged. “It’s obvious when you say it out loud, but autistic people deserve to have good sex too, right?” he posited to the group. “Including Jack from Titanic, apparently.” The group, except for Burton, laughed.
“I don’t get it,” Burton commented.
“We know,” Paul laughed. “Anyway, worst segue ever, but…”
***
Even though Paul had a fantastic time with Emily, he couldn’t deny it to himself. He wished there was some other way, but there wasn’t. The moment anyone outside maybe his friend group asked about him and her, he had to make the dreaded choice. Everyone in the school or her.
And it really was that black and white. It was rumored that even the reading club ejected her. The reading club! The most shy, timid, kind, unpopular group in the school still disliked her, all because she was different. In another life, Paul really wanted to be the one to stand up to the bullies and be her advocate, but… this wasn’t feelgood TV. Everyone would turn against him in a heartbeat. He spent years building up his reputation and connections, and only recently he was starting to actually get somewhere. After playing a game of 4D chess for nearly his entire high school career! He couldn’t just forfeit the game now. Luckily, that question would be delayed… He predicted someone would maybe ask him about it in late March. He even wrote it down in his notebook. ‘Someone will ask me about Emily – possibly Media Gang?’ He hoped he was wrong. Maybe if he played his cards right, the two could sneak off every so often and he’d hide it until graduation! The best of both worlds.
Unfortunately, the universe had other plans. Phil Love, the President of the Student Council himself, asked to meet with Paul during a lunch break, and Paul absolutely jumped at the opportunity. Even if Phil didn’t have the most squeaky clean of reputations, he had connections, and if Paul was in Phil’s circle… he could be everywhere. This was it. After only getting to have a couple of conversations all year, this was it.
When Phil met up with Paul – in Room 203 no less, the Council room – he shook his hand, sat him down, and talked business. Phil wanted a couple of student advocate events to take place, and had heard Paul was a handy guy when it came to logistics. Phil was coming to Paul for help. And best of all…
“Now, with this being school business ‘n all, I can’t, y’know, pay you pay you, but uh… straight up, do you like parties? I can get you an in at the year end party, if you want? It’s at my place, as always.” He chuckled to himself. “I know a dumb party invitation can be a kinda shitty reward, but like-”
The Love family year end party?! The stuff of legends? Everyone who was anyone was there! It took Paul all of his concentration not to hyperventilate on the spot. “Uh, yeah man, sounds great!” Paul replied with faux nonchalance. She brought out his hand. “Shake on it?”
Phil outstretched his hand, but then pulled back and hesitated. “Uh, one thing,” Phil quickly added. “Now, you’re gonna laugh at me, but like… rumor has it that the other day, you were walking back to your car with a, uh… well, a certain retard,” Phil concluded, chuckling and leaning in, hands outward in a comical fashion. “Now, I mean like, I can’t tell you who you can and can’t make friends with, but y’know, was that… was that real?”
Fuck. The moment was now, and Paul had to play it cool, and not hesitate. Fuck weighing the odds, he had to act. And he dreaded it, but he knew all along deep down how he was going to act.
“Ugh, it fucking sucked,” Paul complained. “So get this: she goes and whines to some teacher after hours that she missed her own bus.” Paul cringed internally, knowing his next sentence. “Probably had to bust out her Stephen Hawking machine to even say it.”
Paul was rewarded immediately with an enthusiastic “Ha!” from Phil.
“And, what do ya know, the teacher sees me and knows I got a car. So she was all, ‘you have to do this, Paul,’ and-”
“And you just did it?!” Phil asked incredulously with a smile.
“Fuck no, I put up a hell of a fight. I was all, ‘mm, I dunno, I have a super important family thing…’ Lied through my teeth.”
Phil chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s the way to do it, man. That’s the way to do it.”
But she pulled rank and kinda made me. So that’s why I had to drive… had to drive Emaily home.”
“Shit, man! Fuckin’ blows,” Phil laughed, folding his arms. “I’m gonna be so real with you, I thought you two were friends and shit…”
Paul joined in on the laughing. “Fuck no, dude.”
“Great.” Phil nodded. “‘Cause yeah, if you two were friends, and then I invited you to the party… Y’know, shit. Not gonna happen, y’know?”
“Yeah, you got nothing to worry about there. Promise, my friend.”
“Cool, cool.” Phil outstretched a hand again, and Paul shook it. “Alright, you work for me, and I get you in. No matter what.”
Paul could practically sing. He didn’t want to look cringeworthy in front of Phil, so he saved his celebration dance until after Phil had left. Paul practically floated through the hallways for the rest of the day, on cloud nine the entire time. He was so happy that he didn’t notice Emily walk up to him, although she didn’t poke him this time. When he turned to suddenly face her, he almost yelped.
“Woah! Oh, hey Emily,” he said, trying to recover but also trying to subtly look around him.
“You’re looking to make sure no one can see us,” Emily told him.
Paul paused. “Uh… what?”
“You’re embarrassed to be around me. Just like everyone else.” Emily was staring down at the floor, shoulders hunched in.
Realization and shame flooded Paul. This wasn’t a guessing voice. This was an accusation coming from someone sure of the facts. Paul figured that Emily of all people didn’t deserve mind games. “You… heard me, huh?”
“Yes.”
“How’d you hear?”
“I was outside the room. The door was open. You were talking to Phil. He hates me.”
Paul emitted a long sigh and looked around. “He… sure seems to, doesn’t he?” He turned back around. “Look, Emily, and I’m telling you the full truth here…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I genuinely like you and I genuinely like spending time around you.” He raised his voice back up before adding, “But I also have a reputation, and everyone else at the school… well, you know. If I’m seen with you…”
“I understand that,” Emily replied. “But you hate being seen with me. You lie and use the names that hurt me to make yourself look better. I don’t know what makes you different from all the other bullies.”
Paul stayed silent, breathing heavily.
“I feel dumb for having sex with you. I regret it. If I knew you’d just treat me badly afterwards, I would have just preferred to be a virgin forever.”
“Emily…” Paul began. “I… I feel awful for this. I can’t choose between two… well, you already know. I’m sorry, but this environment is just too volatile for that shit. I’d get trampled if I was seen with you, and… I want to be liked, okay? I want to be liked by the people who can do stuff. It’s the reason I… do anything.”
She was silent for a long time. “People call me retarded,” Emily began.
“I’d never call you tha-”
“Stop talking. I need to say this full thing,” Emily asserted. “People call me retarded. But… the only retarded thing I ever did was trust you.”
Paul felt woozy. No, he felt empty, like his soul just left his body. That sentence may as well have been a bullet from the way it hit him. He leaned back against his locker, feeling the full impact of her words, as she turned and walked away. It was the last thing she would ever say to him.
***
The table was silent for a while. “And I’d like to say,” Paul added, “that whatever you could possibly say to me right now, I’ve thought a thousand times.” He paused, then shook his head. “You wanna know what the worst part is? I bet I would have been really genuinely happy in a relationship with her too. I thought about that the very next day, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”
Burton cleared his throat. “And, have you, uh, been in a relationship at all since, or…?”
Paul shook his head. “Nah,” he said quietly, then sighed loudly. “I think it’s my life’s biggest regret,” he admitted. “Sure put the Nicole shit into perspective, even after… well, y’know.”
The friends were silent for a while until Tiffany piped up. “Well… we asked for your worst moment. It’s safe to say you delivered.”
“Yeah,” Paul croaked. “I get if you guys, like… want a break from me… or…”
“Nah, fuck that,” Burton replied. “Yeah you were a piece of shit, but so were Mike and me.”
“I wasn’t that-” Mike began, a death glare from Tiffany stopping him mid-sentence.
“It’s clear, at least to my naive ass, that you’ve improved as a human and shit,” Burton continued. “So, you know. Live and learn.”
Paul nodded and finally brought his head back up. “Maybe someday I’ll see her again. And if I do, I’ll apologize. Or, I dunno, leave her alone to live a better life. When the moment happens, I’ll choose, and hopefully I choose right this time.”
“Yeah, thank fuck that once you get out of high school, relationships are so much simpler,” Mike thought out loud, then shrugged. “But then again, we’re all single here, except for Tiff. So thank fuck Tiffany’s relationship is so much simpler, I guess.”
All eyes turned to Tiffany, who had her eyes closed. Even in the state of her eyes being closed, she squeezed them shut, shaking her head no. Her lower lip began to quiver.
“Shit,” Burton picked up on the tonal change. “You okay?”
Tiffany didn’t respond, and just lowered her head.
“Tiff, talk to me, what’s wrong?” Burton demanded.
“I…” Tiffany managed, then cleared her throat. “Okay, guys, I haven’t been telling you the truth. I, uh, my relationship is not okay.”
“Wait, Spencer? Really?” Mike asked, surprised. “But you’ve always…”
“I… I can’t go any longer with him. I just… can’t. Not anymore.” Tiffany put a hand in front of her eyes. “I’m sorry, guys. I think… maybe it was dumb to talk about our secrets like this…”
“Well for God sakes Tiff, you certainly don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to,” Paul immediately replied, forgetting about his own problems immediately. “I’m sorry our stories triggered you like this, but we can just-”
“You know what? No,” Tiffany told him gently. “I want to tell you guys. I want to make this real. I want it to be known.”
“Fuck Tiff, hit us with it,” Burt replied, his voice full of care and sympathy.
Bashful Scribe 