The 8th

Before I could answer she leant forward and kissed me on the mouth. Seconds later and she was kissing me again with her tongue down my throat. Aggressive…Nice…

She pulled away slightly, “You’re a good kisser.”

I tried to answer but my mouth didn’t want to work. Besides…I wasn’t sure whether she was just saying that. Being kind. I wonder if she could tell it was my first kiss. She leant in again with her left hand on my cheek. As she continued to kiss me, her hand stroked down my cheek with her nails scratching me ever so gently. Lower it went…Down my neck…Down my chest…Until it rested on my crotch. She made a funny ‘mmm’ noise from her mouth and, using both hands, fussed around with my belt until it was undone — allowing her access to do the same to my jeans. Is this really happening? I desperately wanted to touch her, like she was touching me…I wanted to feel the softness, and warmth, of her skin. I wanted to feel her breasts…I wanted to but didn’t. I was just frozen to the spot; allowing her to do as she pleased.

“Ooh, big boy,” she purred as she freed my erection from the confines of my boxer shorts. I feel like I should stop her. Perhaps get to know her a little first? I thought the correct order was a few dates, holding hands, couple more dates, a first kiss, more holding hands and then, eventually, some kind of sexual act. I didn’t think it would be like this. “I have some condoms in the drawer over there…” she whispered in my ear. Fuck it. Holding hands is lame anyway.

“Sure,” I stammered, my hands still frozen to the mattress.

She jumped off the bed and walked across the room, leaving me on the bed momentarily.

“Now!” she suddenly yelled. Within an instant, the bedroom door flew open and Piers burst in with a mobile phone in his hand and a huge, evil smile on his face.

“Gross! What are you doing! Having a wank in Rebecca’s little sister’s room? You know how fucked up that is? She’s only eight. You fucking pervert!”

I didn’t know what was going on nor did I hang around for an answer. I got up as quickly as I could, turning my back to the mobile phone, and adjusted myself to hide my erection. The sound of Rebecca laughing, from the corner of the room, echoing through my worried mind…

So much for a fresh start.

7

If Piers had meant what he had said, that evening, about us having a fresh start…If Rebecca hadn’t tricked me into making me look stupid…Right now, Mrs Price would, no doubt, be shouting at one of us for handing in a below par homework assignment. As it is, she’s just sat there, looking mortified at what she’s just done. Rebecca is still sniffling away in the corner of the room and Piers is still bleeding as he deserves to.

“Have another little think,” I said to Piers as I went back to the front of the classroom, “and we’ll have another chat in a bit,” I said. Back at the front of the class, I turned to Ben Griffin and Daniel Gordon. Two of Piers’ closest friends. Unlike the physical violence Piers liked to dish out, these two were too weak to do much damage, like that. Instead they preferred the tried and tested method of name-calling. Whoever said ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me’ clearly hasn’t been on the receiving end of people who spend the vast majority of their time using hateful words. I’ve lost count of the amount of times, in my short time in this school, where I’ve been on the receiving end of a bout of name-calling from these two narrow minded little pricks. It’s stupid of me, and others, to get hurt by it but…You hear something enough times and you start to believe it. It wears you down. “Ben and Daniel, can you come to the front of the class please?” I’m not sure why I said ‘please’. I don’t need to say things like that anymore. I don’t need to be polite. I’m the one in charge. It wasn’t a friendly request. It was an order.

They looked at each other, unsure whether they should or not. A quick glance at Piers, who was barely conscious from the last pistol whipping he received, and the two of them stood up; neither of them wanting to be on the receiving end of that kind of brutality. I wonder, had they known what was coming their way…I wonder whether they’d still have chosen to stand up. I smiled. Slowly they came forward. Both of them were tall individuals. Both with dark hair. Both with dark brown eyes. Same size, width-wise, too. You’d be forgiven for thinking they were brothers.

“Do you remember when David told you about Ben and Daniel?” I asked Mrs Price. She didn’t answer. How rude. “Do you remember he reported that they kept calling him names? I remember. He told you how it upset him and how he didn’t like it. He asked for your help and you told him not to be so silly. It was, after all, just name-calling. Which, by the way, is still bullying. Do you remember?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“We were just playing around,” said Ben.