Beautiful Torment (8 page)

“I’m sorry I called you pathetic,” she whispers.

“It’s okay,” I pick both our bags up off the floor and we head outside, making it just before the final bell rings.

“It’s not, though,” she shakes her head. “What I said to you was mean.”

“We all make mistakes,” I give her a look.

“Too soon, Luci,” she says as she opens the passenger door.

“Sorry,” I look up over the car. “I know I haven’t exactly been the best sister. You were right in that I don’t know you anymore,” I admit. “But I’d like to.”

“Me too,” she smiles through her wet eyes.

I call Mom as soon as we get inside and tell her Gracie vomited, so she’s home. I don’t know when it came so easy for us to lie to our parents, and we both start laughing about it. I wet a washcloth for her, saying it will help with her puffy eyes, but really, I just want her to get all that hideous makeup off.

“Are you going back to school?” She asks, ringing out the cloth before wetting it again.

“Yeah, I have that lunch tutoring thing,” I roll my eyes, mocking it, hiding the fact that
it
makes my day
.

“You know,” she sighs. “I know Chloe’s right… you have a crush on Mr. Harrington,” she reveals. “You don’t have to admit it to me, but I won’t say anything.”

I remain silent, watching as she bites her lip before dragging the cloth across her face. More colors smear off and drip down the sink.

“I spied,” she confesses.

“What?”

“I thought maybe you’d tell Mom about Derek, so one day I followed you. I saw the way you smile and laugh with him,” she swallows. “Then I did it a couple of more times,” she pauses and my mouth gapes open. “The way you both joke and talk with such ease, like friends who obviously want so much more… I actually got jealous,” she laughs lightly. “Derek and I never looked like that.”

My heart is pounding and I plop down on the toilet, needing to sit.

“I didn’t want to admit to you that I didn’t love Derek, after all that happened, but I
knew
I didn’t. Because I looked
nothing
like the way you do.”

“Stop,” I whisper.

“The agony in the way you look at him. He has that same look when looks back at you, you know… And then I started feeling bad,” she hesitates, “because how you feel, and what you want … can never come to fruition.”

I turn away, wiping the tear that escapes.

“That’s why I got mad at you for judging me,” she sighs. “I made a stupid mistake, but I’m still smart. And you are too,” she rests her hand on my shoulder. “How did you let yourself get this way?”

A tear lands on my shirt; they’re coming down fast now.

“He’s hot and all, but a
teacher
, Luci?”

“I don’t know,” I bury my face in my hands, overcome with emotion.

“See, that’s the problem,” she whispers. “You’re already too far gone.”

I sob as she rubs my back.

“Stay home with me today,” she removes my hands from my face and I nod.

I think I’m dreaming when I hear my name, until I hear it again.

“Luci?”

I wake in total darkness.

“Can I turn the light on?”

“Yeah,” I answer groggily, sitting up to see what Mom wants. I wrap my blanket around me and close my eyes until they’re ready to adjust to the brightness.

“God, you were home all day and
still
needed to nap? Are you catching what your sister has?”

“No,” I rub my eyes.

“Well, Mr. Harrington called.” I open them, no longer caring about the light.

Gracie pauses in the doorway when she hears this, and Mom turns to her. “You look better.”

“My sister is the best nurse ever!” She runs and jumps on my bed, nearly knocking me back onto my pillow.

“I’m glad you two are getting along so well,” Mom smiles. “Anyway, he noticed you weren’t in today and wanted to make sure everything was okay, isn’t that nice?”

“Yeah,” I mumble.

“I told him you were just home being a good sister. Then he asked if you planned on being in tomorrow. He said you could make up the daily quiz you missed today first thing in the morning! Now that’s just the sweetest?”

I groan.

“It’s great, now get out Mom!” Gracie throws one of my pillows at the door.

She yells that dinner will be ready in thirty.

SHOCKED

Gracie stayed home again today, and Chloe got a ride with Ashley, so I arrive super early the next morning and wait outside his office door.

It’s getting late, and he still isn’t here. Students have already started to fill the halls, and I’m tapping my leg nervously against the locker behind me in anticipation, when I feel a small amount of air against my bare leg. I curse under my breath, realizing I already ripped my stockings.

I bend down to see how bad it is, freezing in place when I hear the clanking of keys hit the floor. I see his shoes first, before reaching to grab the keys for him. I meet the glossy look in his eyes when I right myself back up, and he clears his throat as he extends his hand, allowing me to drop the keys in them.

“You called my house,” I whisper.

“You left¸” he answers, his eyes never leaving mine as he opens his office door. “I was wondering if you were okay… if you were going to be here today.”

He walks inside but I don’t follow. It’s already getting late and there are too many people around. “Well, here I am,” I say, cringing on how stupid that sounds.

The warning bell rings and the expression ‘saved by the bell,’ comes to mind. He says nothing, so I turn to leave, stopping when I hear his loud intake of breath.

“Call it my way of walking past my classroom after first period when you’re really going to the gym,” he smirks.

Shit.

Busted.

I turn and leave, not knowing what to say. I didn’t even get make up the damn quiz.

Since I missed our lunch yesterday, I decide to go today, even though it’s not a lab day. I have to give him some excuse as to why I pass his classroom. Plus, I finished this one Stephen King book he said I should read, and I’m dying to talk to him about it.

“You’re not coming to lunch
again
?” Ashley whines, as Chloe looks my way.

“Yeah, it’s not even a lab day,” Chloe chimes in.

“I’m just really trying to prep for the next test so I don’t fail it this time,” I lie.

“That’s…
smart
,” Chloe adds.

“See you in chem,” I wave just as the bell rings.

I’m practically running down the hall, excited for my surprise visit.

I wait by my locker for what feels like forever, wondering where he is. By now he usually checks his mail. Maybe I somehow missed him and he’s already in his classroom?

I continue down the hall and around the corner. The door to his room is open, and the lights are on, but when I walk inside it’s empty. I think maybe he ran to the bathroom or something, so I wait.

Five minutes later, he’s still not here. I probably should just go to the cafeteria, but I don’t have a pass explaining where I’ve been. The only other place I think he may be is in his office, so I head down the hall to the familiar location I’ve seen and met him at most mornings.

It’s always eerie walking down an empty hallway in an otherwise crowded school. Beyond each door there are lessons going on, but out here, it’s quiet and peaceful.

Dare I say it, but I love this place.

His office door is closed, but I see a faint light glowing underneath. I raise my hand, ready to knock, my excuse as to why I pass his room on the tip of my tongue. I’m already imagining the way his face will light up when he sees me, surprised because it’s not a lab day.

I barely hit the door with my knuckle when it opens slightly; he clearly forgot to click it shut. Now I’ve reached that awkward point where it’s obviously open, but I’m unsure if I should walk in and say something, or try knocking again.

My deliberation is interrupted when I hear what sounds like a faint moan. I’m clearly catching him at a bad time, and I’m a little crushed, but, if he’s upset about something, he may not want to share his free period with me. After all, he already does that every other day.

I start to leave when my foot accidentally hits the door and it opens another inch. Another moan, this one sounds almost…
pleasurable
. I know I shouldn’t, but I peek inside anyway.

His eyes are closed, his head is tilted back, and he’s stripped down to a white undershirt - his chest hard and muscles flexing. A hotness creeps over me as desire pools within. This time, his moan is clear as day. Movement catches my attention, and I take another small step in to get a closer look.

Wait - the flap of his pants is open, swaying back and forth, and his left hand is moving with a vigorous need. Oh my goodness, is he?

“Oh god, yes,” he moans softly.

Yeah, he definitely is.

One time, during a group sleepover at Ashley’s house, a bunch of girls thought it would be funny to watch the adult channels her parents get. All of us stared at what was happening on the screen before us with wide-eyes.

That’s how I learned all about sex.

It scared me shitless, with all the toys and positions. Since then, mostly all of my friends have actually done it. They say it’s not nearly as outrageous as what we saw on TV that night.

However, nothing I saw on TV, or heard about from others, can compare to what’s happening right before me.

I’ve never witnessed anything more stunning.

My stomach tightens and I can’t tear my eyes away. I’m glued to him, watching as he works himself, resting my head against the cool doorframe, too scared to even breathe. The way his hand moves up and down with such might, his face twisted in pure satisfaction.

“Yes, suck it,” he moans at whatever fantasy is in his head. I can almost feel the wetness leaking onto my underwear. His hand increases its pace, moving so fast it almost creates a blur. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking about as he does this.

I lean in, trying to get a better look, cursing the island in the middle of the room that blocks most of my view.

He suddenly stops, groaning as he squeezes himself tightly, the head of him red and swollen. I’m now entirely being help up by the doorframe, pressing my legs together tightly, seeking just the tiniest bit of friction, desperately aching for my fingers.

This is easily the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

He’s
the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

A small bit of fluid escapes from the tip, and I push my feet down into the floor, ensuring they weigh me down, because the need to lick that dot of liquid is so damn strong and overpowering.

“Oh my God! Yes!” He gives himself one more firm squeeze before his hand starts moving again, rubbing up and down, faster and faster. He’s grunting and groaning, and his mouth falls open wide.

The veins in his arm become more pronounced, matching his veins below, but I can only see the very tip of him, thanks to his pants and that stupid island. But despite the obstructions, he looks impossibly large, and so thick, not far from the men I saw on TV that time. I really should leave, this I know, but I can’t take my eyes off of him. I want to see
more
of him.
All
of him.

“I’m so close,” his hips thrusts into his palm and I’m all but squirming in my own discomfort. He growls roughly and I close my eyes, committing his sounds to memory. Something I’ll surely remember night after night as he continues to star in my own fantasies.

“Here it comes,” his voice strains, his hand working overtime. “Oh, oh, here it comes! Luci!”

My eyes dart open at my name, my heart picking up speed, like it’s trying to win a marathon against itself. I thought he said my name
because he saw me
, but his eyes are still closed as fluid pours out of him.

Oh my god,
he’s thinking of
me
.

“Oh yeah, Luci! Take it!” He’s grunting as he thrusts into his hand, erupting with a continuous force.

I never knew
that much
comes out. I’m still transfixed on him as he stands in place, gasping for air, attempting to catch his breath, pulling on himself slowly, until he eventually leans over in the opposite direction and grabs some tissues off his desk.

I slide out of the doorway and head straight to the bathroom, splashing cool water on my face in attempt to calm down. When that doesn’t work, I practically drown myself in it.

Unable to get his image out of my mind, I lock myself in a stall and sit on the toilet, spreading my legs wide. I reach down, into my skirt and then underwear, feeling the wetness. It’s never been this bad before. I apply a little bit of pressure, trying to make the ache go away, fighting the urge, but it’s no use.

I have to alleviate it.

I close my eyes and see him, his big penis, the swollen tip, and the way he stroked himself. His moaning and grunting, and the all that liquid! The way it leaked out of him, with only a small bit at first before shooting out so forcefully. I remember the way he thrust into his hand as he emptied himself all over the floor. The way he kept on coming... and how he said my name,
“Oh god, Luci! Take it!”

Me. He was
thinking of me
!

I can’t help but wiggling my fingers; my touch more familiar this year than it’s ever been. I don’t even have to circle very fast, like I usually do. Just a little rub, oh yes, and I’m there, before I barely even got started, extending my legs as my own orgasm rips through me, coming harder than I ever have before.

I redden when I walk into chemistry. He doesn’t look my way, and it hits me that he’s probably still preoccupied with what happened this morning. I forgot about not only
his
admission as to why he called my house yesterday, but the fact that
he knows
I walk by his classroom between periods
just to see him
.

If he didn’t know I liked him before, it’s out in the open now.

On both ends.

He likes me
!

Or, at least he’s attracted to me.

I laugh out loud, if he only knew what I just watched him do. Upon hearing me, he meets my eye, raising his eyebrow in that way I love. I’m still so turned on from before that the gesture makes it even worse. I’m uncomfortable, not to mention slightly embarrassed about relieving myself in the middle of school. I’m not even going to address the fact that he’s making me so crazy that I’m raring to go again. I try to control my heavy breathing, even though I’m all but squirming in my seat.

Focus on taking notes.

He approaches my desk for the first time towards the end of class. He doesn’t look at me, but he gently taps his knuckle on the wooden surface while addressing everyone, and when the bell rings, I don’t move.

“I’m sorry if I got you in trouble by calling your house.” Once the last person leaves he props himself on the corner of my desk.

“You didn’t,” I can’t look him in the eye while he’s this close without flushing red.

“Is everything okay with your sister?”

“Yes,” my voice squeaks.

“Good,” he nods and I focus on that perfectly chiseled chin of his.

“You don’t have another class?” It suddenly dawns on me that no students come in here after my class.

“Your class is my last of the day,” he answers. “9
th
is my free period.”

“Oh, I thought that was sixth?”

“That’s my lunch period,” he smiles. “And we can do that makeup quiz during lunch tomorrow if you’d like?”

“Okay,” my eyes now find his hand, resting on his knee. The same hand he ravished himself with earlier.

Oh God!

I get up and grab my bag. I need to get out of here before I’m forced to make another bathroom pit stop.

“Luci,” he calls, following me to the door. “I can let you know the day before if I don’t plan on coming in.” I let my head fall back in humiliation. “But I still expect to see you walk by between first and second period.”

I don’t even need to look at him; I can tell by his voice that he’s gloating.

The next day, things between Mr. Harrington and I are as normal as ever. And I guess why shouldn’t they be? I’m the only one who discovered his secret lunchtime session.

We eat, I take the quiz I missed, and we get into talking about the Stephen King book I wanted to discuss yesterday.

All is well and ordinary.

I wouldn’t have known any different if I hadn’t seen him masturbate with my own eyes yesterday. And shit, I can’t stop thinking about it.

Call me sick; call me perverted, but the next day, I go back. I have to know if it was a one-time thing or not.

It’s not.

I was less shocked the second time, but equally as turned on. Hearing my name at the end is like the conclusion to my favorite movie. That’s the part I replay in my head the most when I go to the bathroom afterwards and take care of myself.