Chapter 8
Nova
W hoever said that Marvel movies don’t have plots was right because I can’t figure out what’s going on in this thing.
People seem to fly across the air, and then Deadpool will say something snarky.
Then, an entire building will light on fire, and Wolverine will show up before being struck by a bullet or attacked by ninjas.
All I know is that the movie’s pure chaos, with streaking cars, nosediving planes, and of course, Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman dressed up in ridiculously tight costumes.
Not that I care though because I’m so busy seething about what happened over New Year’s.
I’m still thinking about Hunter and his abominable ways, even as the image of that man makes me squeeze my thighs tight.
He’s incredibly sexy, with his deep growl and broad chest, and he’s so huge too.
I felt like a tiny flower crushed against a massive wall when I was with him, and when he tweaked my nipples and stroked my rosebud, it was sheer ecstasy.
A particularly loud crash startles me from my reverie, and Stan leans over in the darkened theater.
“Are you okay, Nova?” he whispers. “I can explain the plot to you if you want.”
Stan is really handsome actually, as the lights from the screen flicker across his high cheekbones and strong jaw.
When we met in front of the theater, I could see quite a few ladies eyeing his tall frame, broad shoulders, and chiseled features.
Yes, Stan is young, but it’s a good young, where his skin is smooth and his hands soft.
I should be jumping for joy that I’m the one on a date with the Big Man on Campus because a lot of women would give their right arms to be in my place.
Especially after the way I was so rudely treated by Hunter.
As a result, I force myself to smile.
“No, I get it,” I whisper back. “It’s a little confusing but Deadpool and Wolverine time-traveled, and now they’re trying to save the multiverse, right?”
“Right,” Stan whispers back. “And they’re specifically fighting against a woman named Cassandra Nova, who’s a revenant, which is a parasitic life form born bodiless on the astral plane. She’s the twin sister of Charles Xavier. You know, Professor X of the X-Men?”
I try and think of what I know about the X-Men franchise, which is pitifully little.
“Right,” I murmur back. “I see.”
Stan nods, satisfied. Then, another especially loud crash explodes on the screen and I shudder reflexively. Why the hell do these theaters put the volume on max all the time? I swear, my eardrums are going to burst because it’s so doggone loud.
But Stan takes the opportunity to reach for my hand and encases it in his own soft one.
“I don’t want you to be scared,” he whispers. “Just hold onto me, Nova. I’ll take care of you.”
I manage a watery smile at him in the darkness of the theater because while I appreciate the sentiment, this is not what I want in life.
I want to be encased in the powerful arms of an alpha male, the very air sucked from my lungs as Hunter kisses me ravenously.
I want every cell of my being to vibrate with Hunter’s powerful male energy, and to feel so attracted that I can’t think, speak, or even breathe.
Yet here I am in a theater, sitting next to a high school boy who seems to know the ins and outs of the X-Men universe.
To be honest, nothing could be less exciting, and my heart sinks as Stan gives my hand a little squeeze while shooting me a sideways smile.
I try to smile back and that’s when I notice it.
My date to the movies is sporting a huge boner, which my hand’s only a few inches from at this very moment.
I’m not sure that he knows that I’ve seen, or that he even wants me to see because the long and the short of it is that Stan is a teenage boy.
Even if he’s a BMOC, he’s still going through the uncomfortable process of adolescence, and hell, I’ve heard his voice crack before in class.
But still, I can’t unsee what I’ve already seen. There’s a lump in his jeans, although it’s not extraordinarily massive. It looks middling in size, with a nice hot dog shape poking down the length of his left leg.
“Boom!” the screen pops with explosions again. “Pop pop pop!”
Stan leans forward, a whiff of cologne tickling my nostrils.
“You okay, Nova?” he whispers, giving my hand an intimate squeeze. “Just tell me if you want to leave if it gets too scary.”
I smile weakly.
“No, I’m okay,” I whisper back. “Thanks for asking.”
Stan nods and sits upright again, our clasped hands even closer to his boner now.
The denim of his jeans is stiff and I wonder if he’s going to do it.
Will he pull my hand inch by inch towards his crotch until my fingers are resting on the small chubby?
Does he expect me to touch him, even with all these people around?
Hell, how can he even be aroused right now, given the screams and shouts on-screen?
Fortunately, none of the above happens. Instead, Deadpool and Wolverine concludes, and the lights slowly come back on.
I sneak a quick look at Stan’s lap, and to my relief, his boner seems to have subsided.
There’s just a tiny knob remaining now, and I smile at Stan before giving his hand one last squeeze.
“Wow, what a movie!” I exclaim. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Sure,” Stan nods while getting up. “I thought you’d like it, Nova. I didn’t want you to get too scared, but you know I’ll always protect you.”
I pause because I didn’t know I was giving off damsel in distress vibes. But I merely smile again as we make our way out of the theater.
“Well, thanks for inviting me,” I repeat in a bright tone as we stroll down the carpeted hallway and towards the escalators. “I had a great time!”
“Thanks, I had a good time too,” Stan says. “And you look amazing tonight,” he adds in a shy tone, ducking his head. “I love the skirt. You never dress like this at school.”
I laugh a little, tossing my hair back.
“I think La Salle would run me off campus if I wore this get-up to class. Can you imagine? Most girls wear hoodies and baggy jeans, including me.”
“But you look amazing ,” Stan emphasizes, his blue eyes sliding across to leer at my tits before dropping to my boots. “I especially like those shoes. They remind me of Puss In Boots. You know, the cat from the fairytale?”
I giggle a little because this is so ridiculous.
“You mean, the one who wears a pirate cap with a feather in it? Was he or she actually a pirate? I can’t remember.”
“Beats me,” Stan says, shaking his head as we exit the theater.
“Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. I just know he had a rapier that he’d brandish like he was about to jump into a duel.
And the big boots,” he says, shooting another sideways look at my thigh-highs.
“I didn’t know that big boots could look like that . ”
I’m just about to make another funny quip when suddenly, a looming figure steps forth from the shadows.
“Nova,” a deep voice calls.
I come to a stop, staring into the blazing blue eyes of my stepfather.
“Hunter?” I ask in a surprised voice. “What are you doing here?”
The huge man smiles, although the light doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I was watching a movie,” he says in a smooth tone.
“Oh really?” I ask, a bit suspiciously. “Which one?”
But Hunter doesn’t miss a beat.
“ Joker ,” he says. “It was good.”
I want to quiz him more because there’s something suspicious about this.
How is it that during my date with Stan, my stepfather randomly shows up at the same theater, among the millions of theaters in New York City?
And at the same time too? Plus, how did Hunter just “happen” to be randomly outside, waiting when our movie ended?
But I can’t quiz the alpha male about the plot because everyone knows what the movie’s about, even if you haven’t watched it. The Batman franchise is just too popular, and everyone knows that Joker is Batman’s legendary nemesis.
I decide to play it cool.
“Well, it’s such a pleasant surprise bumping into you,” I say politely to my stepfather. “Have a good night.”
“Have a good night—” Stan echoes beside me, looking somewhat lean and twig-like next to the massive bulk of my stepdad. But Hunter’s not done with us yet. He smiles toothily, almost like a grimace, and then holds something up in the air.
“I stopped by the drugstore on the way to the theater tonight,” he drawls. “I have your hemorrhoid cream for you, Nova.”
I sputter.
“I don’t have—!”
But Hunter cuts me off, shrugging, as he turns to Stan.
“My stepdaughter’s been suffering from constipation recently, and you know what happens when you have to go really bad.
You push and push and push, hoping to get that sucker out.
And then, the veins in your anus literally begin to bulge from all the pushing, and there you have it!
Hemorrhoids,” the handsome man smirks. “I got the cream that you like, Nova. You know the special one for ladies.”
I snort again, shaking my head with disbelief. What the fuck is Hunter talking about? Why is he saying all this in front of my date, anyways?
“I don’t have—” I begin.
But Hunter keeps talking like I’m not there.
“I’m an ob-gyn,” he introduces himself to Stan. “Hunter Taggart, MD. Nova’s stepdad and her doctor,” he adds. “She’s a feisty one, isn’t she?”
Stan looks nonplused.
“Um, yes?” he mutters in reply. “We haven’t known each other that long. Just since freshman year.”
“Four years is enough time,” Hunter drawls. “You really see a girl grow up before your own eyes. One moment she’s a tiny imp, and the next – boom ! A full-grown woman wearing thigh high boots.”
Oh my god, how have these boots come up in conversation again? I wore them to get a reaction, but I didn’t think it would lead to this embarrassing scenario.
“Yeah, I love the boots,” Stan murmurs, more perplexed than ever now. He clearly senses that he’s in the middle of something he doesn’t understand, and shoots me a confused look. “Those boots are the bomb.”
I decide to take control before Hunter embarrasses me even more.
“Thanks for stopping by, Daddy ,” I grit out in a sarcastic tone. “Don’t you need to get home for your bedtime? Ten is a little late for you to be up, isn’t that so?”
But Hunter doesn’t blink.
“I may be an old man, but I like my conversation spicy,” he drawls. “But no, sweetheart, it’s not too late for me. By the time I get home, the re-runs for The Golden Girls will just be starting, and I’ll be in time to catch a few hours of my favorite show.”
I stare at him, my glare murderous.
“You best be getting along then,” I say in a syrupy-sweet voice.
“I wouldn’t want you to miss out on the adventures of Blanche, Dorothy, and Rose.
It was a career-making role for Betty White, you know.
Plus, those ladies are about your age, right?
I can see you on a date with one, two, or even all three of the Golden Girls! ”
Hunter’s high cheekbones have a dark flush on them now, but he keeps his cool while stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“Betty White is a cool cat, sweetheart,” he says in a mild tone. “She had unparalleled success on screen during a career spanning more than sixty years, and has a huge fan base of all ages. But yes, I’m going to go home and heat up some warm milk before settling on the couch for some re-runs.”
“Bye then,” I say while waggling my fingers at Hunter. “See ya.”
The huge man stares at me for a moment, his blue eyes unreadable, before turning away.
“Have a good time tonight, honey,” he says. “I’ll put the hemorrhoid cream on your nightstand.”
Then, he strolls off, hands stuffed in his jeans like he has nary a care in the world. But I know better because what the hell was the man of the house doing at this theater? And what’s with the stuff about hemorrhoid cream? I don’t have hemorrhoids!
Unfortunately, the nightmare hasn’t ended yet.
“Your stepdad is your ob-gyn?” Stan asks with a semi-confused look on his face. “Isn’t an ob-gyn a lady doc?”
“Yes, but he’s not really my ob-gyn,” I explain in a quick voice. “I’ve only seen him for easy stuff like you know ... um...”
But Stan’s still thinking and I can see where his train of thought is going.
“An ob-gyn gives ladies exams down there, right?” he asks, his teenage mind trying to compute. “The one where you lie back, and put your feet into stirrups? And then the doctor probes around inside your va-jay-jay with his fingers?”
“It’s not like that,” I correct in an icy voice.
“The procedure is a medical necessity, and it’s not personal at all.
In fact, it doesn’t really count because the doctor has rubber gloves on, and like I said, my stepdad isn’t really my ob-gyn.
I’ve only seen him once, and most of the time, I go to someone else. ”
“But still,” Stan says in a rising voice.
“Hemorrhoids. Poking around inside of you. Oh man, oh man, what a weird family,” he mutters before turning my way.
The teenage boy can’t meet my eyes as he makes his excuses.
“You know what, I just remembered that I need to get home to call my grandma before she goes to sleep. I still have time because she’s in Arizona, so they’re three hours behind, but you know old folks!
They go to bed early, so I have to split.
It was great seeing you, Nova,” he says with a fake smile before turning away. “I’ll see you Monday at school.”
Then, I’m left on the cold winter sidewalk as Stan speed-walks away, his varsity jacket shrugged up against the chill.
What the hell just happened? One moment, he was complimenting me on my sexy thigh-high boots while trying to pull my hand closer to his boner.
The next, my stepfather showed up and blew the situation to smithereens!
Seething, I shrug my fake-fur chubby closer around my shoulders and dig in my purse for my subway card. I’ve just been ditched by a handsome football player because Hunter ruined my date ... and that man is going to get a taste of my wrath next.