I heard that slight loud and clear and decided that was it. I threw Shelly’s legs off mine—counting her lucky that I didn’t throw her right across the room—and hissed, “Quit it, Shel. Why do you have to be such a f**kin’ bitch all the time?” The other students didn’t dare meet my eyes. It was the only time I was glad I was a moody, scary f**ker that no one dared mess with.
Molly’s feet shifted from side to side, and she looked everywhere but at me. She was mortified and clearly wanted to split.
I needed something from her first. I needed to know if she believed everything she said or if it was just some regurgitated academic shit for the sake of impressing her new class.
Her eyes fluttered to mine again and I breathed deep, asking, “You really believe what you said just now?”
She frowned as though it were a stupid question. “Which part?”
I felt Shelly and her Barbies listen in, but I needed to know, something in me really needed to know. “About life being unfair. About philosophy giving answers to why some people get dealt shit and others don’t.”
Determined eyes met mine, leaving absolutely no room for doubt, and she replied, “Vehemently.” And that was it. A wash of something soothing seemed to settle in my chest and yeah, it may sound soft, but it was the first time I felt like I could breathe in years. She knew pain too. She’d been through shit too. Someone could relate.
Molly turned to run to her desk and the class was dismissed. As I grabbed my bag off the floor, Shelly grasped my arm. “Rome, don’t forget about the initiation tonight. Your brothers are part of the task. Come too, okay?”
“Don’t count on it,” I said in response. I could feel Shelly’s hard stare as I sat in my seat, completely lost in my thoughts. I couldn’t move, too busy reflecting on the things Molly had said. Why do some people coast through life… whilst others are dealt blow after blow? As the room began to clear, I snapped out of my daze and quickly left.
The minute I exited the classroom, two arms snaked around my neck and I groaned. “Shel, f**k off!”
As I turned around, a pair of red, pouting lips protruded and large hazel eyes tightened. “Not Shel, Bullet!”
I sighed as I was pushed aggressively against the wall. “Caroline,” I greeted tightly as she rubbed up all she had against my cock. I ignored the watching students walking past, and no doubt Shelly too, which I actually decided would be a good thing. It’d piss her off, maybe get her to back off for a while.
“Come back to my dorm,” Caroline said seductively, her sharp nails slipping under my shirt and digging into the skin—she was one kinky bitch. I gritted my teeth at the pain and her eyes lit with arousal. She leaned in, right to my ear, and murmured, “I’ve been dreaming about your c**k in my mouth all week.”
Christ. I shut my eyes for a second, debating whether or not I could actually do this new change in lifestyle I’d set for myself, but I pushed her off, deciding to stick to my original plan. For the first time ever, Caroline and her wonder mouth held absolutely zero appeal. Time to put my plan into action—a cull on all distractions. She was getting too clingy anyhow.
Meeting Caroline’s hungry eyes, I stated, “Not happening. In fact, I’m cutting you out for good. Go suck someone else’s junk. I don’t want it no more.”
“But… but… why not? You never refuse me!” It was true, I never had before, but, hell, I was done.
“Things change.” Her nails, at my words, dug in farther into my stomach, and her face flushed red with anger. Glaring, I grabbed her wrists and pushed her away.
“Change? You? Since when?” she shrilled.
“Since right f**king now! You’re not required anymore,” I shouted, and she blanched, storming off down the corridor. It was true. I did need to change. I was sick to the back teeth of the groupies, of the fame whores. Ten months. I reminded myself. Just ten more f**king months. And I turned against the wall, head against the cold cream paint… Just ten more months to get through.
3
“Nope, not going,” I said for the fiftieth time to Austin, Reece, and Jimmy-Don as we chilled in the lounge area of the frat house—me lying on my back on the couch, throwing a football up into the air, them watching some shit reality show about f**k knows what.
“What you gonna do, then? Stay here on your own?” Austin asked from his place on the recliner. Austin was ex-gang: Italian, heavily tattooed, piercings everywhere, ear plugs, the works—and looked as scary as all shit, but he was the best guy I knew and one of the only people I could actually tolerate.
“Yeah, I guess.”
A bunch of the guys—mostly Tide players—came bustling in the room, hyped up and carrying kegs. I sat up and flicked my chin at Porter. He was an ass**le but still a teammate, so I put up with his loud mouth shit… just. “Why the f**k you all so happy?”
Porter stepped forward, rubbing his hands together. “Initiations, bitches! You know what that means: drunken pu**y on tap.”
“They’d have to be drunk to f**k your rancid ass,” Austin remarked, and I smirked at his cutthroat tone. There was absolutely no love lost between the two wide receivers, history going back too far to get into.
“C’mon, guys, let’s go. We can leave if it’s a washout,” Reece said, a hint of desperation in his voice. When he came to school last year, Coach asked me to show him the ropes, you know, as the leader. I hadn’t been able to shake the little f**ker since.
Molly’s feet shifted from side to side, and she looked everywhere but at me. She was mortified and clearly wanted to split.
I needed something from her first. I needed to know if she believed everything she said or if it was just some regurgitated academic shit for the sake of impressing her new class.
Her eyes fluttered to mine again and I breathed deep, asking, “You really believe what you said just now?”
She frowned as though it were a stupid question. “Which part?”
I felt Shelly and her Barbies listen in, but I needed to know, something in me really needed to know. “About life being unfair. About philosophy giving answers to why some people get dealt shit and others don’t.”
Determined eyes met mine, leaving absolutely no room for doubt, and she replied, “Vehemently.” And that was it. A wash of something soothing seemed to settle in my chest and yeah, it may sound soft, but it was the first time I felt like I could breathe in years. She knew pain too. She’d been through shit too. Someone could relate.
Molly turned to run to her desk and the class was dismissed. As I grabbed my bag off the floor, Shelly grasped my arm. “Rome, don’t forget about the initiation tonight. Your brothers are part of the task. Come too, okay?”
“Don’t count on it,” I said in response. I could feel Shelly’s hard stare as I sat in my seat, completely lost in my thoughts. I couldn’t move, too busy reflecting on the things Molly had said. Why do some people coast through life… whilst others are dealt blow after blow? As the room began to clear, I snapped out of my daze and quickly left.
The minute I exited the classroom, two arms snaked around my neck and I groaned. “Shel, f**k off!”
As I turned around, a pair of red, pouting lips protruded and large hazel eyes tightened. “Not Shel, Bullet!”
I sighed as I was pushed aggressively against the wall. “Caroline,” I greeted tightly as she rubbed up all she had against my cock. I ignored the watching students walking past, and no doubt Shelly too, which I actually decided would be a good thing. It’d piss her off, maybe get her to back off for a while.
“Come back to my dorm,” Caroline said seductively, her sharp nails slipping under my shirt and digging into the skin—she was one kinky bitch. I gritted my teeth at the pain and her eyes lit with arousal. She leaned in, right to my ear, and murmured, “I’ve been dreaming about your c**k in my mouth all week.”
Christ. I shut my eyes for a second, debating whether or not I could actually do this new change in lifestyle I’d set for myself, but I pushed her off, deciding to stick to my original plan. For the first time ever, Caroline and her wonder mouth held absolutely zero appeal. Time to put my plan into action—a cull on all distractions. She was getting too clingy anyhow.
Meeting Caroline’s hungry eyes, I stated, “Not happening. In fact, I’m cutting you out for good. Go suck someone else’s junk. I don’t want it no more.”
“But… but… why not? You never refuse me!” It was true, I never had before, but, hell, I was done.
“Things change.” Her nails, at my words, dug in farther into my stomach, and her face flushed red with anger. Glaring, I grabbed her wrists and pushed her away.
“Change? You? Since when?” she shrilled.
“Since right f**king now! You’re not required anymore,” I shouted, and she blanched, storming off down the corridor. It was true. I did need to change. I was sick to the back teeth of the groupies, of the fame whores. Ten months. I reminded myself. Just ten more f**king months. And I turned against the wall, head against the cold cream paint… Just ten more months to get through.
3
“Nope, not going,” I said for the fiftieth time to Austin, Reece, and Jimmy-Don as we chilled in the lounge area of the frat house—me lying on my back on the couch, throwing a football up into the air, them watching some shit reality show about f**k knows what.
“What you gonna do, then? Stay here on your own?” Austin asked from his place on the recliner. Austin was ex-gang: Italian, heavily tattooed, piercings everywhere, ear plugs, the works—and looked as scary as all shit, but he was the best guy I knew and one of the only people I could actually tolerate.
“Yeah, I guess.”
A bunch of the guys—mostly Tide players—came bustling in the room, hyped up and carrying kegs. I sat up and flicked my chin at Porter. He was an ass**le but still a teammate, so I put up with his loud mouth shit… just. “Why the f**k you all so happy?”
Porter stepped forward, rubbing his hands together. “Initiations, bitches! You know what that means: drunken pu**y on tap.”
“They’d have to be drunk to f**k your rancid ass,” Austin remarked, and I smirked at his cutthroat tone. There was absolutely no love lost between the two wide receivers, history going back too far to get into.
“C’mon, guys, let’s go. We can leave if it’s a washout,” Reece said, a hint of desperation in his voice. When he came to school last year, Coach asked me to show him the ropes, you know, as the leader. I hadn’t been able to shake the little f**ker since.
