7. Maxwell
Maxwell
“What the hell was that?” Maverick says when Clayton is gone.
I don’t answer right away, still trying to regulate my breathing.
“It was the dare. You dared me to kiss him.”
“That wasn’t a kiss. That was a kiss,” Dax grunts. “A little bit of a gay kiss, honestly.”
“Shut the fuck up. I’m not gay. You dared, I did it.” I responded, but my voice cracked.
“Right,” Maverick scoffs.
“I’m not!” I rise to my feet, grabbing one of the shot glasses off the table and downing it. During the last hour of playing truth or dare, we’ve had someone come and drop off drinks and shots for us. All of the ones that were served to Clayton still sit there, full and untouched.
Trying to get my friends off my back about being gay, which I’m not, I grab the closest girl to me.
Don’t even register what they look like or who they are.
I drag their face into mine, our lips locking, and she shoves at me.
Backing away, I look her in the eye, but when she realizes who I am, she pulls me back into her.
Arms slinking around my neck and her tongue shoving into my mouth, but something is off.
Usually, making out with a girl makes my dick hard, knowing that something more might be coming, but this is falling flat. My dick stays completely soft in my jeans.
I lean back, pulling away from her mouth to see who it is. It’s a girl I’ve been with before, Amberlyn. She wasn’t bad. Actually, Amberlyn is a girl higher up on my list. Someone I know I would’ve gone with again.
The taste of vodka lingers on my lips from hers and I like it. So, why isn’t my dick hard?
“Let’s go,” I say to her, and all she does is giggle and follow my lead. Dragging her to the bathroom in the dining hall, shoving through the crowd to get there. I shove the door open, pushing us inside.
“I’ve missed you,” she coos, coming toward me. Her arms wrap around my neck again.
My lips find hers, our tongues dance a little more, but nothing comes. I think of what it feels like to be inside of her. That slick, tight feeling of my cock sliding in and out of her, but all I seem to see behind my eyelids is one six-foot-four blonde nerd with black glasses.
It’s the alcohol I’ve had mixed with the kiss.
My body is just confused.
Before I have the chance to do anything, Amberlyn is stripping. Her dark hair is over her shoulder, hiding her breast, but I swipe her hair away. Big blue eyes stare at me, filled with lust and want and need.
My dick twitches at the sight. Finally, some movement.
Her hand slides down my pants, gripping my cock, and balls. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and a small groan escaped.
I undo my belt and slide down my jeans before I push Amberlyn over the bathroom counter. Hiking up her skirt, sliding her panties to the side, I run a finger over her slit and spread her arousal.
Pumping my half-hard cock with my free hand, I line up with her entrance and shove in without warning. She slams a hand against the counter, a moan falling from her lips from the harsh intrusion.
I buck my hips wildly, faster and harder, but my cock only stays semi-hard, and she doesn’t moan.
“What, you can’t get it up?” She mocks.
I growl, closing my eyes and imagining the kiss I just had with Clayton fucking Reeves.
My cock spikes up, harder than it was before, and it hits her in just the right spot. My movements are wild and unhinged, but it’s nothing to do with needing to fuck her so badly, but the anger running through my veins.
Her moaning plays out, loud and echoing against the walls of the bathroom.
My balls tighten, a funny feeling running down my spine and I pull out of her to cum in my hand.
Completely pissed off at the fact I had to imagine him to cum, I leave her wet and wanting. Packing myself back into my jeans, I do up my belt, wipe my hands on my jeans, and leave the bathroom.
All I hear behind me is her yelling for me, but I don’t listen.
Pushing through the crowd, I breeze right by my friends. I hear their voices, my name being called, but I don’t stop.
When I walk out of the dining hall, the world is quiet, but my nightmare isn’t over yet because my father is standing there. A hand is reached out, ready to grab onto the door handle.
His face is coated in anger.
“My office. Now.”
“How many times do I need to tell you to stop having parties in the fucking dining hall?” He sighs as he sits at his desk. The bag under his eyes heavy. My father is wearing sweatpants and a Sunrise University hoodie.
Before I have the chance to respond, he is speaking again. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing any of the shit you do? You don’t fucking listen. Do you have a screw loose in that damn head of yours?” He growls, voice full of the anger that’s clearly shown on his face.
This is the only time he ever notices me.
Not when my grades stay good. Not when I get awards for shit. Not for anything.
Other students seem to get his attention, but his own son? You can forget about it.
“Fuck you,” I raged. “Fuck you and the rules. Fuck you for being my father. Just fuck you!” I shout, arm flailing wide open.
“You’re a piece of shit father. Maybe you should question your own ethics before you bitch at me.
” He came to me at a bad time and I'm probably going to regret this, but right now? Hah. I don't care.
He rises from his fancy desk chair, walking around his dumb fancy oak desk and stands before me.
“What did you just say to me?” His voice is calm and that's the most terrifying part.
“I said fuck you. You're a piece of shit father!” I screamed in his face, shoving my finger into his chest. Nothing but muscle meets me and his body doesn't move even a millimeter.
His face turns flat. No anger. Every emotion is just gone.
I blink my eyes, longer than a normal blink should last it seems, but when they open again his fist is flying to my face.
The hit is brutal. Pain ricochets through my jaw and I thought for sure I'd heard it crack.
Regret hits his face the second his hand leaves mine.
“Example A, Randall.” It's all I have to say before I walk out of his office, slamming the door behind me.
It only takes a second before it swings back open and he's calling my name.
“Maxwell, I'm sorry.”
“What do you want me to say?” I whip my head over my shoulder.
“You want me to tell you that it's okay?
That your attention to everyone else but me doesn't matter and that it doesn't hurt me?
You want me to tell you that I'm not mad that you hit me?” I fully turn around and really look at him.
“All I ever wanted was your love and attention, Dad. The awards, the grades, it was always for you, but you never saw me. You always saw everyone else.”
“I-”
“Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it. The next time you drag me up here, you better be getting rid of me because I don't want to see you. Fuck you.”
Fresh air hits me outside and it's like a shock to my system. I suck in a deep breath to try and regulate my breathing, but my efforts are fruitless.
I pace around the grass, smacking my palm against my forehead wondering how I got in this mess. My head is jumbled from all the emotions: anger, confusion, and even a hint of sadness blurring the edges until I can't tell which emotion is which anymore.
The world is quiet. The echoing of bass from the party is heard and it makes me want to run rather than go towards it.
I can't face my father. I don't want to. I barely even want to face my friends. Sure as shit don't want to go find Clayton either. I overstepped, even if that was always the goal. I shouldn't have done that in front of everyone else.
Isn't that what parties are meant for though?
The silence outside and the noise in my head is interrupted by my phone ringing.
Mom.
“What?” I answer as a greeting.
“What's going on, sweetie?” Her tone is sweet and so full of concern and it makes me want to lay it all out for her but I can barely wrap my head around it.
I stick with the normal response.
“Business as usual, ya know?”
“Don’t be coy with me, Maxwell,” she snaps, harsher than her voice was before. “No matter how much your father has pissed you off, you have never been that rude to him.”
I scoff in her ear, wondering how he’s the victim when I’m the one with a bruise forming along my jaw. It aches, reminding me of what happened not even ten minutes ago.
“Did he tell you the part where he punched me?”
Her silence is answer enough. He left that tidbit out.
“No. He didn’t.”
“Right in the face.”
“You prov-”
“Don’t even fucking say it, Mom.”
“Your father is under a lot of stress lately. The board is coming down on him because of your actions,” she explains as if I could give a fuck.
“This school doesn't give a shit about me. What if I was troubled and that was why I decided to act this way? Never, not once, have they considered talking to me. Always sending their guard dog after me when my father is the worst person to walk me away from a ledge.”
“What’s really going on, Max?” Mom sighs.
Clayton Reeves is what the fuck is going on. Despite the anger simmering beneath my skin at my father, all I can think about is the fact I had to think of him to blow my load.
I run my free hand through my hair, tugging at the strands. The pain is a moment's distraction from everything going on. I contemplate if I tell her the truth. If anyone is going to understand me, let me be myself without judgement, it’s going to be my mother.
“There was a party tonight. We played truth or dare,” I start.
“You always play truth or dare.”
“Maverick dared me to kiss someone.”
“You’ve kissed people before.”
We volley back and forth until I give her what she’s waiting for, but she doesn’t push because mom knows I need to do this at my own pace. She is the only one who ever gets me to talk and she’s always allowed me to do it my way.
“It was a guy.”
Silence.
All I hear is the sound of her soft breathing. My heart hammering. The crickets off in the distance.
“I didn’t realize you liked boys,” Mom says finally.
“I don’t.”
“I’m confused.”
“I don’t like boys. It was a dare. A follow up to another dare.”
If I could see her now, she’d be rolling her eyes at me.
“What was the other dare?”
“Make this boy fall in love with me and break his heart.”
“Maxwell Hayes!” Mom yells loud in my ear. “You will do no such thing. I raised you better.”
“Sorry, it must be the daddy issues showing.”
She sighs. “You will not hurt that boy for fun, do you hear me?”
“Fine,” I lied. Just because I’m in my feelings right now, it doesn’t mean this dare is over.
I’m going to my dorm to sleep off the alcohol and Clayton Reeves will be out of my system by morning. The echo of his body against mine will be gone. The taste of him on my lips will be nonexistent.
All I need is a good night's rest and round two of some good pussy.