7. Penis Is Not a Sexy Word
7
Penis Is Not a Sexy Word
I was late for school, my alarm forgotten in the wake of the previous night’s disaster. I’d arrived home last night, my anxiety morphing with my guilt until I’d had to bend over and put my head between my knees to keep my vision from spotting. I’d never had panic attacks before, not really. I hated them more than anything.
Upon waking too late, I dressed sloppily and sprinted from the house, driving like mad to the school. I pulled into the parking lot like I was auditioning for the Indy 500 and parked Mabel by the gym. My rush was wasted, and I groaned in defeat as I entered the school at the exact moment the tardy bell rang.
With zero hope of making it to class, I strolled down the hall as I caught my breath and leisurely swapped my backpack for my economics book. By the time I made it to Econ, I received my detention slip from the hall patrol and a lecture over time management. Today was going to be a bad day, I could tell.
I passed Ben in the hallways a few times during the morning, but when he ignored me completely, my self-loathing doubled. He didn’t deserve my hot-and-cold behavior, and he definitely didn’t deserve my defensive, cruel words. But, in a fucked up way, it was for his own good.
Being my friend was not a great plan. It was better for us both if he didn’t get mixed up with me.
“Blondie’s watching you again,” Kim whispered across the lunch table, and I cringed as Caroline rubbernecked in excited curiosity.
“Where? Oh, there.” Caroline giggled, hiding the sound behind her palm and the curtain of her dirty blonde hair. “He’s so cute.”
“Would you stop staring?” I refused to check behind me and, instead, picked at my fries until I had a pile of smashed potato pieces in the center of my plate. “I don’t think you two could be any more creepy if you tried.”
Caroline and Kim sent me matching scowls of impatience, and my forehead met the table with a dull thud when they hurriedly returned to their gawking.
“He’s totally into you.”
Kim’s comment filled me with horror. “Um, no, he’s not.”
“He watches you all the time and stops by your locker to talk to you,” Kim countered as she licked the yogurt off her spoon. “He likes you.”
“He’s straight.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he has a girlfriend.”
This revelation brought a sour pucker to Caroline’s mouth and a frustrated line between Kim’s eyebrows. Kim brushed a black box braid out of her face as she huffed. “I’ve never seen him with anyone.”
“There were pictures in his room,” I said before I could properly ponder the wisdom of my speech. As the words left my mouth, I reached out to grab them in hopes of shoving them back down my throat, but they disappeared into the air like smoke.
“You were in his room?” They both shrieked simultaneously.
“Oh my God!” I lamented as I shoved away from the table.
My chair scraped against the tile as I stormed away, gritting my teeth against the pulsing pain in my side. I dumped the contents of my half-full tray into the garbage bin and dropped it by the kitchen window before spinning on my heels to make my escape to the bathroom. My attempt was thwarted by a tall guy with ash blond hair and glasses, and I yelped as I narrowly missed getting covered by the remaining food on his tray.
“Fucking hell, watch where you’re going!” I snarled, and Redwood Tree snorted.
“You’re the one almost running into me.” He walked around me, and I stuck my tongue out at him when he turned his back.
“Real mature,” a familiar tenor spoke from beside me, and I rounded on Ben with a vengeance.
I opened my mouth to say something inappropriate and most likely unwarranted, but he stopped me with his palm on my mouth. “I’m going to assume you’re planning on insulting me, but I’m not really in the mood,” he said dryly as he handed his tray to Groot with his free hand. “So, let’s skip the rude comments and get right to where we storm off in opposite directions.”
Annoyed that he’d robbed me of my fun, I licked his palm, and he jerked away from me with a disgusted wince as the Iron Giant laughed. “Or we can just act like we’re five.”
“I warned you,” the ashy blond said.
“Shut up, Ronnie.” Ben wiped his hand on his shirt as his friend, Ronnie, straightened his glasses with a wry chuckle.
“Well, see you two around,” I said, my tone sugar-sweet as I loped away, and both of their gazes prickled my skin as they followed my movement.
Halfway across the cafeteria, I passed a table seating a group of athletes, and an insulting jeer shot from the crowd. “Planning a faggot fuck session, Brigs?” someone said, and I paused to flit my gaze over the crowd of sniggering idiots.
My eyes landed on Jake Thompson as he leaned back in his chair, munching on an apple with a smug grin plastered on his stupid face. “Why? You wanna join?” I asked, faking sincerity. “If you say please, I might let you blow me.”
I finished my offer with a wink and a flip of my middle finger, and Jake’s face darkened. “You’ve got a huge fucking mouth, don’t you, Brigs?” he seethed, and I smirked in victory. Sometimes, they made it too easy.
“Funny, I said the same thing to your mother last night.”
A collective gasp sounded around me as he leapt to his feet, and I rolled my eyes at their hypocrisy. Sure, insinuate I organized a gay orgy without batting an eyelash, but God forbid I insult someone’s mother without it being the end of the world.
“You’re a fucking dead man.” Jake stalked around the table, his face screwed into a furious mask.
“Oh baby, talk dirty to me,” I crooned with a seductive smile as I mentally prepared for the fight. It wouldn’t last long since a teacher was already headed our way to intervene. As long as he didn’t hit me before the teacher got here, I would survive. I was fast; I could dodge.
The kids watching retrieved their cell phones to record the battle, but they groaned in disappointment when one of Jake’s buddies interceded. “Jake, dude, he’s not worth it.” He twisted his fist into Jake’s shirt as the wrestler strained to attack me. “You don’t wanna get in trouble with Coach, right?”
Jake glared daggers at me as Mr. Rodriguez, the Spanish teacher, casually ambled to a stop. “Is there a problem, gentlemen?” he asked, and after a long moment of exchanging silent promises of revenge, Jake shook his head.
Silas: 1
Jake: 0
“Nope.” I said cheerily. “We were just having a nice chat. Weren’t we, Jakey?”
His eyes narrowed, but he agreed all the same. “Yeah, just talking.”
“Well, then ‘just talk’ all the way back to your seat,” Mr. Rodriguez ordered, and Jake returned to his overturned chair and retrieved his half-eaten apple. “And Brigs, don’t make me give you another detention.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Rodriguez, sir!” I barked with a military air and a salute, and I was saved from his haranguing by the bell ringing.
My remaining classes passed in a blur of droning voices and nonsensical color, and when I arrived in Sociology, I spotted Ben in his original seat several rows behind mine. For some odd reason, this upset me more than I cared to admit. He was too nice and pushy and overall annoying, but I didn’t exactly hate him, at least not anymore.
Last night was fun, poking and prodding each other like friends, and I could admit I didn’t loathe his company. But he’d finally taken the hint. I officially scared him off. I wanted this, so why did my disappointment sit like a heavy rock in my gut?
My body moved without the permission of my brain, and before I knew it, I sank into the desk beside Ben’s. His startled expression matched mine as I plopped into place. Shit! What was I doing?
Move, Silas! Run away while you still can.
Except I didn’t.
“That’s not your seat.” His brows drew down into a puzzled frown.
I shrugged. “Today it is.”
“Why?”
My witty retorts and sarcastic quips evaded me as the truth tumbled from my mouth. “I don’t know.”
We stared at each other for a long moment, both of us rooting through the other’s eyes in search of answers to unasked questions, until he finally confessed with a deep sigh, “You’re confusing.”
“I know. I’m quite the enigma.” His guarded shield cracked at my haughty tone, and I bit my lip with a tentative grin.
“Is that why you spend half your time being a somewhat decent human being and the rest of the time insulting people’s mothers?” His candor surprised me, and my neck heated in a shameful blush. Chagrin was not a common emotion for me, yet I dropped my eyes in embarrassment.
“Okay, maybe that wasn’t my finest moment,” I conceded, staring at the desk. “But I was defending your honor.”
He blinked, his astonishment comical. “What?”
“They insinuated that I was planning a threesome with you and Andre the Giant. I didn’t want any jealous girlfriends coming to scratch my face off when the rumor spread, so I put a stop to it. You’re welcome.”
The crests of his cheeks turned the most adorable shade of pink, but his scandalized response dropped to a whisper as the teacher called the class to order. “Andre the—you mean Ronnie?”
“Whatever. He’s grotesquely tall.”
“He’s not that tall,” he denied between hushed snickers. “Maybe you’re just short.”
“I’m not short!” I ducked my head to avoid the pointed glare from the teacher, hissing at Ben from the corner of my mouth, “I’m barely shorter than you. I’m perfectly average, thank you very much.”
I pouted as Ben covered his mouth with his palm, but I caught his whisper. “I don’t think there’s anything average about you.”
Unsure whether it was an insult or not, I scrutinized him before sending him a wicked smile and an exaggerated wink. “Well, there’s definitely one thing that isn’t average, if you know what I mean.”
His blush deepened, traveling down his neck and over the tips of his ears, as I waggled my eyebrows suggestively. “Wow. You just jumped right to dick measurements. I’m pretty sure we skipped a few vital friendship steps.”
“Psh, we aren’t friends,” I said, ignoring his bewildered expression.
“This is us not being friends?”
“Exactly.” I patted his curly head like one would a dog. “Now you’re getting it, Adams.”
Shaking his head, he turned his attention to the now-glowering teacher, and I followed suit as I tried to quell the satisfaction warming my chest from our interaction. What the hell was I thinking? I was supposed to be staying as far away from Ben Adams as I could, and I’d just made conversation with him. Purposely.
I spent the rest of class vacillating between watching Ben from the corner of my eye and pretending he didn’t exist. Of course, he remained calm and collected, completely indifferent to the mixed signals I constantly sent him, and when we parted ways in the hallway, he waved.
“See you around, Silas,” he said, garnering curious glances from the surrounding students traversing the hall.
“We’re still not friends,” I reminded him pointedly, and he threw his head back with a laugh.
“Sure.”
I spent my detention watching the woman who taught Typing 1 grow increasingly red in face as she read an erotic novel hidden inside her Microsoft Office for Dummies instructional book. I knew computers were exciting, but they weren’t that exciting. Ugh… gross!
Not allowed to use my phone, I stared into oblivion and contemplated the world’s most important questions as I tried and failed to ignore the heavy breathing of the sexually deprived forty-year-old teacher. Okay, I did homework, too, but it took twenty-eight minutes tops. The rest of the time, I sat subjected to Ms. Needy’s wanton sighs and the snores of my fellow classmates seeking solace in the comfort of unconsciousness.
Detention ran fifteen minutes over thanks to the smut novel. I wanted to interrupt her reading, but the deep magenta of her skin conveyed the exact part of the story she greedily feasted on. I was too grossed out to say a word. It was safer to wait until she took on a more natural hue before I cleared my throat and pointed to the clock.
To be honest, the mind-numbing boredom gave me time to reflect on the whole Ben predicament facing me. On one hand, Ben was funny, smart, kind, and hanging out with him didn’t make me want to scream. Not to mention, he would make a good bodyguard. On the other hand, he’d witnessed my sexual assault, which couldn’t be a good foundation to a friendship.
After thirty minutes of deliberation, I decided to sever ties completely, forget we ever met, and refuse to speak to him again.
Somehow, my resolution got lost on the walk to my truck, and I found myself here, standing in the gym hallway with my back against the wall, waiting. I tried to leave, I really did, but my body rejected my brain’s orders. I stood against the wall, frozen and wary, as I fought against the memories of what happened over a month ago in the bathroom down the hall, trying instead to plan what I would say to Ben when he finished with practice.
Water sloshing in the pool was at a minimum, and my stomach rolled with nerves. Nothing said, Be my friend! like blowing chunks all over his shoes, right? Seemed like a smooth way to begin.
Eventually, members of the swim team poured from the pool doors, and I straightened my stance, tightening my hand on the strap of my backpack. Most of them sent me cursory glances before dismissing me while others stared in open curiosity. I glared at the latter group and ignored the former.
After half the population of Indiana made its way out of the pool room, I spotted Ben’s damp, curly head and swallowed the frog in my throat as he exited with a skinny brunette attached to his arm. I stamped out my automatic flash of annoyance and reminded myself I was here to make nice and be friends. Getting jealous and crushing on said friend prospect was a no-no. Plus, he was straight and had a girlfriend, and I wasn’t a part of some cliché love story.
The brunette, Alice, giggled hysterically at something Ben said, and the blushing boy struggled to detach her from his person. I laughed internally at the panic in his eyes as he searched the hallway for assistance. Of course, his gaze latched on to mine, and his discomfort melted into a surprised grin.
“Silas?”
Alice noticed me a second later, and her laughter faded to a perplexed frown. Glancing between us, she struggled to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, and her fingers tightened around Ben’s arm possessively even as a plastic smile slid across her face.
“Oh my God, Silas,” she said with extra affectation in her voice, “how are you?”
Mimicking her over-the-top excitement at my presence, I said, “Oh my God, Alice, I’m so great. How are you?”
“I’m great!”
“That’s great,” I said.
She simpered. “So great.”
“Great.” I dropped the act and the smile. “Ben, can I talk to you?”
Ben looked moments away from bursting into laughter, but he managed to swallow it as he turned to Alice. “I’ll see you later.”
“Definitely.” Alice took the dismissal with grace, but she shot me a scrunched-nose-pinched-mouth scowl before she headed toward the exit doors.
Ben and I stood facing each other in silence for nearly a full minute before I cleared my throat and threw my backpack over my shoulder. “Well, I’m starving, and I just spent the last hour watching a forty-year-old teacher explore her suppressed sexuality. I need a fucking milkshake.” Ben’s eyes bugged out of his head with a strangled choke, and I launched into a detailed account of the red-faced detention teacher as he scrambled to follow me down the hallway. “Seriously, at one point, I thought she was in danger of self-combustion. I’m shocked she didn’t bring her vibrator to help her finish.”
“Wow, thanks so much for that visual,” he said.
Surrendering to the naughty urge, I lowered my voice to a mischievous whisper. “Her face was purple at one point. Probably the part in the story where the guy takes out his impressive… what kind of words do they use in that shit? They never say penis because penis is not a sexy word.”
He burst into rich laughter, and my responding grin hurt my cheeks. His damn dimple returned, waving hello as it mocked my traitorous heart lurching dangerously in my chest.
As we exited the school into the cool evening air, our eyes met. It was naught but a moment, and yet my pulse spiked as heat sizzled through my veins.
Shit, that wasn’t a good sign, was it?