37 | 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑗𝑜𝑏 𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑐

Oh, no--please, please, please--this can't be happening.

In all its glory on my navy blue locker was an oh-so-real graffitied dick with a cloudy text-box in white displaying the words,'Want a taste?'

My heart sped harder against the threshold of my ribs and all what I wanted was for Victor to hold me and beat a bitch, but instead, Wolfpack and his best friend, Sam, stood behind me with ridiculous smiles. They were thrusting their bodies clad in clothing, towards me.

"Wanna taste? I heard you're making your rounds, Kellman!" Wolfie teased. A crowd began to formulate, encircling my locker and I.

His best friend, Sam, added, "yeah! What he said! He is spitting facts! You hear that? Yeah, Wolfie talks truth--"

"Okay, she gets it," Wolfie spat, offended.

I stared at the dick, then at the living dicks in front of me. "You know what." I propped my hands on my waist and said, "thanks for decorating my locker, Boys." I twisted my combo in, grabbed my books then slammed it shut. As I walked, word must've spread like a rapid forest fire and the smoke was filling my chest to the capacity. I didn't want to allow that to get to me and I think I played it off cool. It happens, it's the circle of life! I shouldn't be ashamed. Right?

I marched through the hallways when Rowan joined my side. "Hey, I heard what happened?"

"Which part?" I chuckled to myself, combing a hand through my hair stressfully. "I don't care."

"Are you sure you're alright? I could give you a ride? Wait. Now that Kayla isn't giving you rides--"

"I walk," I told him with a shrug. "It's alright though." I assuringly nodded as Wilson, the high school perv, walked over to me, opening his mouth to speak, but I just held up the palm of my hand. "Not today, Wilson. Not today."

"How many of those are you gonna get?" Rowan meekly questioned, a worrying glance in his eyes.

"No, I think that's it," I told him, but I was mistaken. The minute I entered the cafeteria, laughter chorused and people pointed. A jock popped up from the tables.

"Hungry for some dick, Kellman?"

"You're hot, why haven't I noticed you before."

"You're too quiet, bet that's different if we're alone--"

"Oh, guys. Leave her alone," announced a popular girl from our grade who I remembered seeing kiss Victor in the cafeteria before--the day I slapped him, for the first time, and we got Moose.

Good times.

She was walking over to Rowan and I, giving us a generous smile as she explained, "look, I know it could be hard for you. Especially with all this manhandling you're doing. Bouncing between Victor and Sullivan and then back and back again--"

"Just get outta here," Rowan deadpanned, waving his hand.

"Yeah, okay, Patty." She rolled her eyes, retreating to the table and seating herself beside her boyfriend, Wolfie. They made just an incredibly good couple. Yet, there were far from opposites, in fact, they were too alike.

Rowan looked at me as if to ask what to do, but I gave one nod and sauntered over to a table of testosterone. They were all going hysterical, laughing and checking me out, but the one at the end caught my attention.

"What did you do?" I charged, crossing my arms over my chest. A series of 'oohs' and excitement loomed above their heads.

"Damn, you're in it for real," one chimed in.

"Ready to get neutered?" another asked.

Ironic, since Victor called him a neutered puppy.

Sullivan was shaking his head, holding his hands up in surrender and saying, "don't worry, Riyah. They know we're dating. It's not like you're a wh--" He stopped the second he saw my face contort and all the guys went ballistic. "It's not like what you had with Vislocky. You're my girlfriend. People have the right to know we're serious."

"But we're--" I started, wanting to conclude, not; but instead I said, "still a new relationship." My voice was low as I added, "I would've liked to have kept it to ourselves--"

Someone coughed obnoxiously, "and the whole fucking cinema."

"They know about the movie theater?" I shouted, my eyes enlarging five times the size as I stared at him like he had three heads.

Well... ouch.

I need Victor to save me. No, I don't need him, I don't need anyone; I can easily--casually, no--I can effortlessly--be an independent woman.

Sullivan rolled his shoulders. "Oh, come on. It's no big deal, Rhy--"

"Don't call me that," I stated, my fists balling in my pocket. In my peripheral vision, I noticed Jay beginning to walk closer to the scene, but I discreetly shook my head to him.

The nameless guy at the table of testosterone was in a fit of belly-jostling laughter. "Breaking up  a week in, huh?"

"Not even," claimed another guy down the rectangular table.

Sullivan laughed towards them, but when he cocked his head to me, he pitched the smile to a frown instantly. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was a big deal."

"Yeah, same, I didn't know this was a big deal."

He went to ask, but I swept to the nameless guy in front of him and intertwined my lips and gently maneuvered on his mouth, leaning in and hovering on top of him. His lips were coinciding with mine till I broke away forcefully, making his breath hitch. I looked at Sullivan, then to the nameless guy who was checking me out, swearing under his breath as I walked away.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit. Act natural, keep walking. Head up. Keep walking, the whole cafeteria is staring. Too late, I'm jogging out the doors.

My breathing became harsh and I slammed my back up against the cold tiled hallway of the school and retreated to my phone, dialing his number and pressing it to my ear. It rang, then rang again, but his voicemail came through.

"Fuck, Vicky!" I dialed the number again and it returned with his voicemail. Instead of hanging up, I let the woman tell me to repeat my message and I announced, "I'm known as a blowjob fanatic and my whole world is crumbling. So yeah, I did everything you wouldn't do."

♡♡♡

"That jackass-father called," my mom said between mouthfuls of chilli.

My fork scraped against the ceramic plate absently while she spoke, but had no intention of getting any words in. My mom then said, "he wants to know if you'd let him come to your graduation."

"No," I said sternly. "Why should he get to waltz right in?"

"Because no matter how much of a jackass he is, he's still that very same dad you grew up with since you were eight." Her voice sounded somewhat desperate as if she wanted me to agree, but had pent up spite.

"No, that shouldn't matter and you said it yourself, he walked out on us when I was eight. There is no limit to fatherhood, but there is a limit to childhood, and he can't skip out on that and show up when he wants," I finished. "He's not father of the year, he didn't get me to where I am, he shouldn't be a part of the reward."

My mom's voice softened. "I get that." She raised her glass of white wine. "Have you been feeling okay?" She intercepted her words, sipping from her glass, eyes above the rim.

"Yeah," I told her, but I couldn't fake enthusiasm.

"You see, that's funny you say that." She situated her glass on the counter. "I got a call from the principal who said that he found a penis drawing on your locker with a tag that says 'want a taste?' Wanna explain that?"

I gulped. "No."

"Azariah Beth Kellman," she ordered. "You better start talking. The principal said some boys confessed to drawing it and he wants them to apologize formally to you in his office tomorrow morning."

"Maahum-" I exaggerated the name.

"Start talking." She crossed her arms and leaned back against the dining chair. We hadn't sat at the dining room table in a while, it was typically the kitchen island with bar stools. It was nice for a change, but it felt too official and I quickly realized why my mom decidedly made us sit here on the occasion.

"I have some rumors." I looked up to see her 'go on' expression. "And I suddenly lost my appetite."

"Are you using protection?"

"Mom!" I scolded.

"Well?" she egged on expectantly. "It must be about this. I'm not mad. You have a boyfriend now and you're seventeen. I trust that you're being responsible. You're a good student."

If only she knew...

"Yeah," I murmured tightly.

"So? What happened? We can talk about this, you know." She smiled brightly. "I'm your mom, Azariah. Everything you're leaning about now was once done by me--"

"Mom!" I yelled, mortified and backing away from my food.

"Right, that was a little extreme," she apologized weakly, bowing her head in thought. "But I want to help you through these times! Bullying is a result of jealousy, insecurity, and can cause others to do some crazy things--"

"Mom! I'm not getting bullied." I shook my head. "Nor am I suicidal. I'm just trying to enjoy my chili, honestly." I gestured to the bowl of macaroni and beans. "Please?"

"Okay, but you will have to go in tomorrow and talk to your principal." She sighed and sipped her wine, her eyes increasing in size. "Goodness, this isn't strong enough."

"Mom," I started, off-topic and saying the name with tranquility. "You like Sullivan, right?" My voice was hopeful and I watched her expression adjust to the abrupt change in topic. She eased into the mahogany seat, her fingers lingering on the glass mindlessly in thought.

"He's okay." Her voice was short as if she was debating her words. "I think he's nice, but you know how teenage boys are."

After a prolonged silence, I asked, "and Victor? You used to hate him, remember that?" I looked up, but my mom was just smiling even wider, an airy sense to her embodiment.

"Oh, he's precious! I trust him, he's mature and funny, and he compliments you well. I haven't seen you that happy since we went out to an adventure park when you were twelve." She was casually nursing from her wine glass as she added with a more considerate grin. "Riyah, I want you to be happy. If that's with Victor, I'll support, if that's with Sullivan, I'll support, and if that's with a girl, or whoever, I will still support."

"Well, I am straight, but thank you. That means the world," I was chuckling under my words, raising my fork and picking at the noodles buried in steaming cheese. "This whole year has been crazy."

"It's January eleventh."

"Exactly. Who knows what this year has in store. I could be in another country by the end of the year at this point, or in space, my perception of what is possible has dimmed." I stirred my cheese absorbed chili, stabbing a purple bean and bringing it to my mouth spitefully. "I love you."

"I love you too."

After finishing dinner, I cleaned up the mugs in my room, put away the laundry, and vacuumed, then I wiped my desk, organizing all the excess supplies. I stacked my notebooks and plucked the pictures of Kayla and I off my cork-board, following the one of my dad with an X over his head and replaced it with the newspaper column and the polaroid picture of Victor and I. Eventually, I made my bed, looking at my headboard longingly that blocked my window and  emptied the trash and washed my mirror in disinfectant.

I smiled in approval, staring at the cream colored walls enclasping me in a green and white bedroom. It was perfectly my style and I had to bury the desire to have people watch out the window inside my head for later.

I laid out my homework on my bed and started my math, deciphering the impossible, (quite literally without Kayla's help), but video after video later, I got all of it completed. Then science, and the rest of my pointless subjects.

The future was complicated for me, because as much as I wanted to settle down and decide something, my options were limited to my capability (obviously), and that was simply nothing like my mom or dad. My mom, a lawyer, was organized and naturally persuasive and independent. My father was a surgeon and neither of which I could do.

A teacher position has always been on my mind, I couldn't help but assume that it suited me well. Something for younger kids though. I've had enough high school years to know I didn't want to go back. A pediatrician has always appealed to me also, but that was in the medical field, and something I didn't think I could handle. As was a nurse.

And then I always had an option to become a stripper. I think I could do it.

I finished my homework an hour later, my back colliding with the comforters weakly as I groaned in frustration. My highschool life was falling apart and even though I kept a strong hold on my reputation, I had a feeling it was beginning to turn to empty nothings.

I was laying on my bed, thinking and with traveling thoughts, comes greater consequences. I struggled to comprehend who I'd become. A girl bouncing between two guys. Without much of a notion on what I was doing, I guided my hand down my stomach. A soft heat decorating my skin, prickling little hairs down my neck and on my arms as I felt awfully calm. I wanted to experience something more exhilarating that sitting and doing nothing couldn't offer. My fingers slid between my undergarment and slowly approached the sensation. My knuckles scratched against the fabric of my underwear and my warm body heat felt incredibly too hot, as if I were trapped.

Without much thought, I was sliding a finger inside when my phone vibrated the bed and intercepted me. My hand darted out of the possession of my pants frantically and in search of my phone. I grabbed the device, seeing the caller I.D and smiled, but my feverish tone was in no preparation to be shown to Victor, nonetheless, and without my conscious telling me otherwise, I revealed to him my dishevelment.

He was seated on a leather seat by a window, passing by silver buildings with numerous windows. "Hey, Princess--oh... is it me now interrupting you?"

My breath got shallow. He looked so good under the soft hues of sunlight flaring across his face through the glass pane, and his hair was messier than usual, black strands hung over his forehead and covered the ear plugs in his ears. The thin white wire was dangling over his black band t-shirt and with his chin perfectly tilted down towards the phone, displaying a view of his lip piercing. I then noticed how I looked in the corner of my screen.

My brunette hair was tied untidily in a bun with baby hairs flying crazily, not to mention my skin was the color of dark shades of red, I practically looked like a tomato. "Fuck--I'm so hideous right now... Let's not do FaceTime--"

"Please." He laughed. "I miss you and I need to see that gorgeous face of yours!" He exaggerated  in a playful manner, but by the generosity in his eyes, I knew that he somewhat meant it. "So... what were you doing?" He raised a brow in interest. "Also, I got your voicemail."

"Yeah... about that."

"First," he started in a condescending tone. "I need to know what you were doing, because if I don't know any better, I recognize this look from after you blew... my mind." He revealed that quirky smirk of his that drove me crazy and made my cheeks heat up impossibly more.

"I was... doing things-"

"To?" He practically begged. "Damn, Azariah, you are so much less innocent than you give off."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, actually, you'd be surprised. My reputation has sort of changed since you've left. I'm now known as uhh... in better words... a blowjob fanatic?" My voice was hopeful.

"I'm sorry, what? Didn't even know there was such a thing." He repressed an abundance of laughter as he looked out the window.

"Yeah, well, there is such a thing," I muttered.

"I want you to know that I left you for not even five days, and now I'm gonna come back to what exactly?"

"Victor, take this as a lesson. Never trust me alone, but on a happier note." I paused and then added, "I handled it like a badass bitch. Just like you taught me."

"You what?" he amped up with a grin, his eyes lit with something adrenaline inducing.

Repeating it much louder and firmer, "I said, I handled it like a badass bitch!" I was smiling wider than I had in a long time and seeing him smile at me proudly made my heart warm and feel things.

"A plus."

"You're grading me now?" I interrogated. "You don't even know if this is about Sullivan or not--"

"You are a fucking independant woman, Rhy." He was looking at me dead in the eyes as he spoke. I cheekily grinned, but something changed in his expression that made my own correlate. He licked his lips. "I'm..." He hesitated, his voice lowering. "It's been kinda hard not having you around, honestly."

"I guess we're just preparing for when we go off to college," I jested, but then realizing how that sounded, I added, "long distance best friends."

"Best friends?" He looked surprised. "I never had a best friend."

"Well, now you do." I summarized happily, "in case you didn't know, that's me."

He chuckled resoundingly, looking out to the window one last time and before my eyes I saw 53rd street, Broadway Theatre. "I got the jist of it," he said loosely, turning to the phone and narrowing in on my expression. He tilted the phone more to himself, but it was too late, I saw it.

"Vicky," I breathed. "You're in New York City, aren't you?"

His breathing hitched and his face became stern. "Rhy, I will talk to you about it when I get back--"

"No, you're gonna tell me now because I am worried about you!" I declared with no room for intervention.

He uncomfortably shifted, scratching the back of his neck and showing off the light reflecting his lip ring. "Just because I taught you how to be a badass bitch does not mean I need you to act like one on me."

I softened my gaze, my smile appearing faintly and my complexion returning back to normal. "Vicky, why are you in New York? Is everything okay?" I rephrased, "please, just tell me that. Are you okay?"

He inhaled. "Azariah Beth Kellman--"

I squinted. "How do you know my middle name?" My voice was sharper than what I predicted it would be after hearing his lecturing tone.

"Oh, your mom told me when I came over that day you blew... my mind," he concluded. "Anyway, yes, Azariah Kellman," he assured, "I am okay, and..." He pursed his lips. "I just needed to make sure..." He was struggling. "I'll tell you when I get home. We'll go out to the mall and have lunch also?" he suggested.

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Goodbye, Princess, or shall I say, my badass bitch?"

x