Gina and Mike
Authors: Buffy Andrews
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Romance, #Contemporary
Gina and Mike
The Yearbook Series
By Buffy Andrews
Gina and Mike
Copyright © 2013 by Buffy Andrews. All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: August 2013
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
Cover: Eden Crane Designs
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1492156512
ISBN-10: 1492156515
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedications
To Tom, my forever love
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Gina
The bastard was dead.
I stared at the newspaper clipping that Mom had mailed me. I had read his obituary online, but seeing it on paper in front of me made it more real. Kind of like watching the Wicked Witch of the West melt in the “Wizard of Oz” – all the evil you loathe becoming a puddle of nothing.
Richard M. Smith, 61, was ushered into Heaven on Saturday, February 11, 2012, surrounded by his family at his home.
I’m pretty sure he went to Hell.
He was a loving husband, devoted father and dedicated coach.
He was the biggest asshole on this side of the Mason-Dixon Line. Maybe on the whole East Coast. Oh, what the hell, let’s just say the entire country. You get the point, he was an A-S-S-H-O-L-E, and I hated him more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life.
Mostly because he ruined it.
I grabbed my high school yearbook off the shelf in my office. Mom brought it on her last visit. She was cleaning out the basement, and it was among the things she didn’t want to throw away or take to Goodwill.
I opened the book and read the message I’ve read so many times I know it by heart.
Gina,
To the best and sweetest girl any guy could have. You’re super in every way and you mean everything to me, and don’t ever forget that! You know I don’t like to write because I can’t express myself as well as if I would tell you but I’ll try anyways. I love you very much and want our relationship to last! You’re just a super girl, you care about me very much and I appreciate it because it makes me feel great inside, and I feel very lucky to have a girl as great as you. If I had to sum everything up about you in one word it would have to be amazing! It probably sounds dumb but that’s the way it is. I just want to let you know that I do love you and will do anything for you that you want me to.
Love, Mike
I remember his black hair and curls. His five o’clock shadow in the middle of the day. The way his smile took up most of his olive face and the way his dark eyes danced when I walked into the room. I remember the first time he told me he loved me, and the first time we made love. Why is it that you never forget your first love? Maybe it’s because it’s the first person you gave your heart to, completely. The first time you were afraid to breathe for fear the moment would pass and you would miss some of the seconds. Life is seldom what we think it will be. Especially when you’re seventeen and the biggest concern you have is whether someone has the same prom dress.
I ran into Mike once at the pizza shop in town. It was the day after Christmas, and I was home visiting my parents. I saw him as soon as I opened the glass door and the bell jingled. He stood at the counter, holding a baby bundled in blue. The sight washed over me like a damn wave that you never see coming until it’s too late and you’re face down eating sand. And just as you try to spit out the sand and stand up, you get knocked over again by the damn hot pizza smell that transports you back in time. Back to the night that you ate pizza in the corner booth that still has your names carved in the wood. The night you got drunk on the six-pack you took from your dad’s stash in the garage. The night you made out in the woods and fell asleep naked intertwined like pretzels under a crescent moon.
He turned and saw me and then came the smile. His white teeth seemed even whiter, his smile broader. There was small talk and more small talk. About his marriage and baby and move across town.
What happened? What happened to all the plans we had? All the nights we spent lying under the stars sharing our dreams. The kind of house we’d live in, how many kids we’d have. What their names would be. What happened to us?
Life. That’s what happened. One day comes after another and another and pretty soon you realize that yesterday was pretty damn long ago and that everything you had hoped for is never going to happen. You can’t control it any more than you can control that big wave from getting stronger before it nails you. All you can do is prepare and hope that when it hits, you’ll survive.
And hope that the secret you’ve kept all of these years doesn’t drown you.
Chapter 2
1982
Gina
It’s the spring of my senior year in high school, and I’m high on life. I have gotten into the college I wanted, everyone on the cheerleading squad is finally getting along and I have a super hot boyfriend who kisses like you wouldn’t believe.
Sure, there are the occasional back-and-forth bitchiness among girlfriends and recurring arguments with Mom over my choice of clothes, but for the most part, life is unfolding in more or less the way I had expected it to.
Then came the night that changed everything. Like a stop sign that you see too late. You run the intersection and collide with an out-of-control car and your life is never the same.
There’s just too much damage.
****
I was babysitting for my calc teacher, Mr. Smith, who was also Mike’s baseball coach, and his wife, Lisa.
Lisa was a nurse at the hospital and worked nights so she could be home with their sons during the day. The oldest was three and the youngest was almost one.
It was a Thursday night. Normally Mr. Smith would be home, but Lisa had called earlier in the week to see if I could babysit so he could go out with friends. One of them was being deployed overseas and the guys wanted to get together one last time.
I wasn’t crazy about Mr. Smith. The way his eyes jumped to my chest whenever he talked to me freaked me out. And he invaded my personal space like bees in a hive. It totally made me feel icky. He’d stand behind me and look over my shoulder as I was doing math problems and I’d swear it was just so he could look down my shirt. I had seriously thought about writing across my breasts, “Fuck You” upside down in black marker so he’d get the message without me having to say anything. And, I have to admit, I liked the idea of letting him know that I knew what a creep he was.
But I didn’t have anything planned, and Mike had to work at the grocery store, so I agreed to babysit. Besides, I could use the money. I was just beginning to realize how expensive college was going to be, and I needed every cent I could make and every scholarship I could get.
The boys were sound asleep, and I was doing homework at the kitchen table when I heard the garage door go up. It was 11:13. As I packed my backpack, Mr. Smith walked into the kitchen.
He stumbled and grabbed the kitchen counter to steady himself. “How’s my favorite babysitter tonight?”
He reeked of beer and cigarette smoke. His eyes were glassy and his speech slurred. I had never seen him like this, and it scared me. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me, with his tongue hanging out like some damn dog waiting for a treat. I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could, but it meant walking past him to get to the back door.
I grabbed my backpack and held it in front of me like a shield. “Well, I’d better get going. Mom’s expecting me.”
As I walked past him to get to the door, he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me in. “Where ya gone so fast?” he slobbered into my neck. “Why not hang around for awhile?”
I pulled away. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He jerked me back. “It’s a great idea. And I got something that you want.”
He forced my hand on top of his bulging crotch.
“Feel that. That’s bigger than Mike’s. I know because I’ve seen his in the locker room. He’s a rookie. A hot redhead like you deserves someone who knows what to do with his cock.”
I yanked my hand away. I wanted to scream. I should have screamed. But I didn’t want to wake up the boys, and I really thought I could get away and handle everything. But just when I thought I had freed myself, I was on the cold vinyl floor. Mr. Smith grabbed a floral dishtowel off the counter and gagged me with it. He pulled my long hair as he tied it around my head. I tried to kick him but he just laughed. He yanked down his jeans and blue boxers. His hard penis popped out. He straddled me like a horse. I squirmed as he ripped off my bikini underwear and sniffed them before tossing them aside.
“Umm. Your pussy smells sweet. Let’s give it a treat.”
He pulled up my sundress and forced his fingers inside me before ramming into me like a round peg being forced into a square hole. Pain coursed through my body. I shook my head and tried to wiggle free. He pinned my arms to the floor.
“Tight bitch. And I know you’re not a virgin.”
I flailed, trying to get away. But he just kept ramming me. Tears soaked my cheeks. The dishtowel gag stopped them from dripping off my face. My insides hurt. I felt so dirty and violated. It seemed like he took forever before he pulled out and came all over my stomach. Some of the semen got on my new sundress. When he was done, he got off of me and threw me a towel to wipe off my stomach. I could feel sour acid inching up my throat as I cleaned myself off. The semen smell was over powering.
Smith wiped his mouth on his red and blue polo shirt. “Now that’s how a bitch like you needs to be fucked. And, tell anyone what happened and Mike will pay for it.”
He took off the gag.
I sprung to my feet and my sundress fell down over my sticky midsection. The wet spot on the sundress touched my thigh. I grabbed my backpack. “You’re a fuckin’ pig!” I ran as fast as I could out the door and to my car. I left my pink underwear behind along with my innocence – the world was more screwed up than I could have ever imagined.
I stood under the hot shower and scrubbed my skin until it burned. But no matter how much I scrubbed, I couldn’t escape the smell of beer and smoke, the sound of his sweaty skin slapping against mine and the pain of him tearing me apart inside. I hated him, and I knew that I would never be the same. I kept touching my stomach, imagining that the globs of semen were still there and that no matter how hard I tried to wipe them away, they’d keep resurfacing. I felt dirty and ashamed.