Forbidden

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

I wanted to redo this chapter. So, please re-read the last 2 chapters. :)

Chapter 6 (v.1) - Nothing Happened

Submitted: December 20, 2013

Reads: 124

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Submitted: December 20, 2013

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Chapter 6 – Nothing Happened

 

I wake up with the biggest headache and I stumble into my bathroom. I open my medicine cabinet, taking out a bottle of Advil, placing two pills into my mouth, and I run my mouth underneath the facet. I’m wiping sleep from my face as I’m staggering back to my bed, glancing at my alarm clock, which reads noon, and whenever I’m about to slip back into my bed – there’s an arm in the way. I pull back the covers, and there he is asleep in his boxers hogging my pillow. How can he even look gorgeous sleeping? Isn’t that the one time you’re supposed to be ugly?

I nudge him awake, “What are you doing here?” I demand. I don’t remember coming home, or drinking the whole bottle of rum (Which is cap less on my floor by his pants.)

“You don’t remember?” Ezra mutters, skimming the floor for his shirt. I shake my head, and he breathes a short laugh.

“Did we – I mean, I’m a virgin, so,” I’m rambling, because I’m not sure what it would feel like after sex. I feel completely miserable now.

He pulls on his shirt, “Of course not. You just talked to me about your dad and stuff like that.” I cringe, “You were pretty funny last night. You even sang to me.”

 “Great,” I mutter ruefully, sitting next to him on my bed. “Madonna or Adele?” I inquire.

“You do a great Like a Virgin.” He grins, and I’m sure I’m chagrin. I fall back into my bed, suppressing the urge to puke, and I pull the covers over my head. “Miles is sleeping in my room. I’m going to check on him.” He says after a few seconds of me pleading that time will magically reverse and I could have just stayed home last night like I had planned to. Whenever he mentions Miles, though, the image of his bloodied face comes to mind, and I hurry to my feet to go with him.

Head rush – I sit back down. “Was it bad?” I ask as he pulls on his pants trying to recover as I massage my temples.

“It looked a lot worse than it was; busted lip probably bruised ribs. He didn’t want to go to the ER.” He mutters, and I wish I could remember the last details of last night so badly.

Whenever I finally manage to leave my room, I head straight to Ezra’s room, and he’s already talking to Miles. I stop by the door, “He just used me. That’s all. And, whenever his friend’s saw me and him in the truck he freaked out. I hate guys like that.” Miles sounds so sad. I open the door, and come inside.

“Are you okay?” I ask scanning him over. His lip is indeed swollen and his eye is black and blue.

“I’ll make it. Some party, huh, chicka?” He asks, smiling that bubbly smile he normally has.

“It was wild, that’s for sure.” I mumble, leaning into the door frame. I’m not afraid of my mother or Alec over hearing because she drags him to church and then to brunch every Sunday. And, that’s what makes it a Sunday-fun day for me.

Ezra is sitting on the edge of the bed, picking at his wool blanket with little Indians on it (how cute). “I’m going to make pancakes.” He declares.

The pancakes were delicious. Miles had decided to leave after the pancakes, before our parents return. The rest of the day was all about recuperation, and whenever my mother and Alec got home, we pretended to feel great and I make up some false details about the slumber party that she just eats up. Ezra said he went and saw a movie with Alex (Yuck.) and it all sounds believable. My mother and his father had gone out with some clients of his and hadn’t gotten back until one a little more than tipsy.

 

Monday, I was feeling mostly normal again, completely out of that post-drug haze where your mind is rebuilding its serotonin and you can smile a lot easier. Miles isn’t in homeroom, which irks me lightly, but I don’t blame him. I’d be unwilling to return to school if it were me in this predicament. I’m sure a lot of people are divided about this entire thing. Mattie should be the one hated. I still can’t wrap my mind around certain people who are so set in their ways; they’d gang up on a gay kid and beat him to a pulp. Because in all honesty, it had to be both ways right? Mattie had to have done something to encourage Miles.

Math class Myra is there, and she’s sitting as far away from Mattie as possible. Whenever Mattie and I connect glares (He has a black eye from my handy-dandy Rum bottle), he’s muttering to his followers, and I roll my eyes. I can only imagine what they are saying about me today. And, whenever I finally take my seat, I hear it, “Brother-fucker,” I swivel in my seat, and Myra is on her feet.

“Excuse me?” She shoots.

“Not you dyke, that slut over there,” he jabs a finger at me. “I saw y’all getting it on in the water.” He puts his fists in the air, and humps.

I look at him like he’s the biggest idiot in the world, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but don’t get upset because you were caught.” I muster the courage to say something back.

He laughs, and he looks over to one of his friends who is laughing as well, “I think you’re faggot friend was the one caught – by my fist.” He looks so indignant and artificial.

“Why don’t you explain to your friends how you got that shiner?” I ask, narrowing my eyes, hoping that would embarrass him enough to shut up. But, I will never know, but the teacher waddles in at that point, and everyone ceases.

 

Luckily, I don’t see Mattie again until lunch, and even then, he doesn’t look at me. I sit with Myra and Sally who are discussing the weekend’s event prior to Miles’ defeat. I sit down whenever Sally is talking about Clark letting her touch her no-no area, and she didn’t let him put it in though. “Where does Clark go to school at?” I ask, trying desperately to change the subject.

“He’s a Middleton boy.” She answers. I still have no idea what that is, and I don’t ask since Caleb is supposed to be my Middleton boy.

“Did you let Ezra touch your no-no area?” Myra asks, smiling at me like she knows some dark deep secret.

“What – no.” I shake my head, nibbling on my roll.

“You were all over him in the car, I’m surprised. I heard he’s a man whore.” Sally says, and I desperately wish I could remember anything after getting into the car. He certainly didn’t let on that I did anything like that to him. Maybe it’s because he only told me the stuff he wanted me to remember. Or, maybe he just didn’t want to mortify me further.

“We didn’t do anything.” I exclaim, and I can see the looks on their face’s they don’t believe me.

“Well, whatever, I get to see him next period in Music, and I’ll just ask him myself.” Sally says, grinning foolishly at me.

“No, don’t, someone might hear you. He’s supposed to be a teacher.” I mutter, though it’s the truth. I really just don’t want anyone talking about me and Ezra hooking up.

 

The only time I’m not looking over my back for Mattie or listening to hear more gossip about me is Track. I see Caleb, wearing basketball shorts and a black wife-beater, and I can almost taste his lips on mine again whenever he says, “I’m glad to see you’re on time today Sanders.”

I smile at him, and we start stretches. “Today, we’re going to start long distance running.” He’s walking around us, his eyes drifting to mine ever so often, and I’m grinning thoughtlessly because after this weekend’s events… It’s so nice to see him. “That means running,” he looks at us pointedly, “Not jogging to where you’re almost walking. We need to start getting ready for Baytown. They will be here in a month to race us.” And, I’m panicky again.

He moves us into position around the track, one person on each line, and whenever he blows his whistle we run. I’m fastest, surprisingly, Lily is at my heels and Fran and Morgan seem to be moving at the same place. “Again,” he snaps once we reach the stopping point. And, we have to walk back; breathing threw our nose and thinking about something in the distance that we so desperately want once we’re in place again. In my case, I think of Caleb, and I’m quickest once again.

In all honesty, besides Caleb, this is my favorite part of the day. Because whenever he isn’t talking directly to me, and I’m running, I feel like I’m fearless and nothing can touch me. This mess with Mattie and Ezra seems so tiny as the wind whips my brunette waves backwards and whenever I stop, and I’m huffing all I can think about is breathing. The only thing that rides my nerves is that soon I’m going to have to be running in front of a crowd, and I have no idea how that is going to feel. I hope it’s just like running today, like my problems are behind me flailing to catch up, but never will.

Practice ends, and my legs are barking at me to sit or lie down, but I can’t. I need to talk to Caleb like we did days ago underneath the bleachers. The other girls are starting down the sidewalk, and I’m stalling by tying my shoes. “Let’s go Sanders,” he says, exhaling, and my stomach leaps. I come to my feet, looking at him, and he looks so tired. Then, as I’m pacing by him, eyes forward, trying so hard not to seem disappointed, he mumbles, “Meet me in the coach’s office, ten minutes,” and I’m suddenly okay.

I hurriedly change into my regular clothes, stuffing my dirty ones into my bag, and checking myself out in the mirror. My eyes still have bags under them from this weekend’s events, so I try to massage them and I pinch my cheeks to add color.

The coach’s office is an office shared by the four coaches that work here, so I’m kind of nervous about knocking on the door, and whenever he answers its all formality, “Yes, Ms. Sanders, how can I help you?” He says, smirking a little, and I want to melt.

“I needed to talk to you about something.” I mutter, looking left and right by only moving my eyes, and we’re completely alone. He moves from in front of the door, and lets me inside. He shuts the door behind us, and then his lips are on mine, and we’re against the east wall. His hands are in my hair, and his fingers are teasing my belly just above the rim of my jeans. “Well, aren’t you feisty today?” I mutter in between kisses.

“I just can’t help it.” He groans, kissing up my jaw towards my ear, “The first time I saw you I wanted you.”

How flattering, “Well, I can say that’s mutual.” I murmur, his finger inching upwards towards my bosom. He laughs a sweet short breath of a laugh, and I’m trying to remember to breathe as he begins to squeeze my breasts. Whenever I exhale, I let out a sharp cry of pleasure, and his mouth is on mine again. His lips are slow and sure… and positively sweet. Then, he’s tugging my shirt over my head, and I’m beginning to unfasten my bra eagerly. That enthusiastic heat finding my undercarriage, and I want him badly. I’ve never wanted something so badly.

Then, there is a knock and we both freeze. I’m clenching my bra to my chest, and he puts a finger over his lips. He opens the door, a woman’s voice begins, “Hey honey, I’m about to grab some dinner. What can I get you?” Suddenly, I’m crossed; I peek out the crack, and I see, to my utter surprise an older woman with puffs of white hair and gold earrings – Principle Davis.

“Sure, mom, get me whatever.” He says, calmly, scratching the back of his head.

“Okay. Should I leave it in the microwave or the fridge?” She continues turning away from the door, about to walk off.

“The microwave,” he answers.

“Okay, Caleb. I’ll see you at home.” I hear her heels clanking down the hallway and I don’t let out a breath until I can’t hear her anymore and he finally shuts the door.

“That certainly kills an erection.” He mutters, leaning into the door, and I look from his pants to his face and start to strap my bra back on.

Whenever my shirts on, I manage to speak, “So, she’s your mom?” I ask, though I already know that answer. “And, that’s why I can’t just go to your place.”

“Exactly,” he says, “But, I also wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“Okay?” I ask a little too defensively.

He chews his bottom lip, “My father owns a beach house in Galveston. And, we could stay there for a night or two this weekend. Completely up to you,” new panic rises inside of me, and by staying the night I’m sure he means also doing the do.

“I’ll think about it.” I manage, not that I need to stay classy now, because if I were he wouldn’t have almost seen me naked yet. This has been more of a lust filled relationship than anything else I have ever experienced. Even my previous boyfriend never got to see me in my bra, we kissed maybe a few times, and now, this with Caleb is so much more intense than anything.

“Okay,” he says, smiling, and kissing me again. “I’ll leave first, count to thirty, and I’ll see you Wednesday.”

 

Whenever I get home, Miles is there. He’s sitting with Ezra on our sectional. Ezra has papers skewed from left to right in front of him, and he’s wearing glasses (To my complete surprise.). “Hey guys,” I say, coming in from the back door, leaving my purse on the coat rack, and then heading into the kitchen to get a pre-dinner snack. I can only do this whenever my mother isn’t home, because she will usher me out of the kitchen bittering about I eat too much or I’m going to ruin my appetite for her amazing cuisine… Blah, blah.

“How was it today?” Miles asks, coming to sit at the overlook bar that separates the kitchen and living room.

I shrug, taking out all the makings for a ham sandwich and a Gatorade. “Mattie has a stick up his ass. But, I think I might have set him straight.” I hold up the bread gesturing to see if Miles wants a sandwich too, and he does.

“What happened?” He asks, obviously overzealous about this info.

“I pointed out that I pretty much gave him that black eye.” I mumble spreading mayo on a piece of bread.

“You did what?!” Miles counters quickly.

I nod, laughing a little, about to speak whenever Ezra exclaims, “She got him good. You should have seen it. I think he was more surprised than anything.”

“Nah, I think it hurt more than anything.” I respond pulling some meat from the zip-locked pouch. “At least today it looked like it hurt.” I finish the sandwiches, handing Miles one, and we both move into the living room to join Ezra.

“You could have offered butt munch.” Ezra calls, tossing a pillow in my direction as I move around the expansive piece of sectional he’s sitting on. I sit on his right side, having dodged the pillow grinning.

“My bad,” I mumble with a mouth full of food.

He takes a heaping bite of mine as I reach for the remote to my left and I’m about to smack him with the remote, but he flinches, hiking his shoulder up and I figure I scared him – that’s good enough. “Look at you too, you loving couple,” Miles mutters, his chin in his hand sitting across from us in Alec’s recliner.

I stare at Miles measurably, thinking back to lunch today whenever Myra disclosed that I was indeed all over Ezra. Does Miles know something too? “We’re not a couple.” I mumble, finishing off my sandwich.

“I think it’s a joke.” Ezra also mutters.

“Oh, don’t play. You stayed in her room and plus, you too were all over each other.” Loud mouth Miles states matter-of-factly and I want to hide in my room. “You two made-out for like ten minutes in Ezra’s room, while I was pleading for y’all to let me get my beauty sleep.”

“Okay,” I say dismissively. “That’s enough.” I look at Ezra, who looks like he’s trying to hide behind his glasses as he’s ‘reading’ a piece of paper. “You said nothing happened!” I exclaim.

“You just asked if we had sex. Not if we kissed, and you were drunk. It doesn’t count.” Ezra confesses after a second or two of my intense staring.

Nothing happened,” I manage finally through gritted teeth. Mostly because I’m mad that he didn’t tell me in the first place, and I had to go through a humiliating day puzzled. Partly because we’re supposed to be siblings and I want to be with Caleb. But, there is always the fact that I’m am undeniably attracted to him, and I just can’t let myself get drunk around him again.

“Okay, nothing happened.” He squeaks.

“Is it because of the Middleton boy?” Miles (LOUD MOUTH MILES) says observingly, like he’s the DR and I’m a basket case.

“Who?” Ezra asks, taking off his glasses and looking from Miles to me.

“Your friend from Middleton,” Miles explains. I’ve never been closer to strangling him.

“I’m sorry, who?” Ezra continues, and he’s never going to catch on. He’s never going to be like okay, yeah my friend. I’m stuck in my lie, and I’m about to have to try and back pedal out of it.

“No one,” I try.

“So, he isn’t Ezra’s friend.” Miles asks.

“No, I met him a couple weeks ago at the mall.” The worst cover up in the world; he’s going to see through it. “I’m going to my room.” I say, even though I really don’t have to announce it, and I hurry upstairs and lock my door.

 

My mother offer’s me dinner, but I’m too mortified to come downstairs and face Ezra. I just know he’s going to say something or do something that will make my cheeks grow hot and turn my appetite. Instead I eat all of my breakfast and two pieces of toast the next morning, and avoid his icy blues as much as I can.

Unfortunately, Tuesdays and Thursdays I take Ezra to school with me, and take him home. So, if he’s going to ask me about what Miles had said, it’s going to be in that 10 minute trip there or back. Whenever we’re in the car, he skims through my IPod, and tells me what music he approves and which songs are complete shit. And, I’m okay with that, it isn’t the most mortifying subject on my mind right now.

And, the day goes on. Miles is back in home room and seemed to apologize over a thousand times about selling me out to Ezra. Which, in all honesty, I think he should just play in traffic for doing so, but like a good girl, I don’t say it. I just accept his apology and move on. Mattie doesn’t even look at me whenever I enter the math classroom, and I like that. Lunch is all about Miles and Mattie, he retells the story of him and Mattie in the cab of his pickup and a drunk Tyler saw them kissing in the side mirror and called him on it. And, then, like good followers, everyone turned on Miles. The rest of the day is just a normal second week of high school with teachers preparing lessons and kids turning in homework.

Wednesday is the day that I have to talk to Caleb about my decision which was already made up when he asked me, but I couldn’t just tell him then. Where is the mystery in that?

The next day seems to fly by up until Track and we’re practicing our long distance runs again. I’m still the fastest, though Lily is getting better. After practice, his grabs my butt and tells me to meet him in the office again. I’m a little reluctant, but after I change I meet him there.

“So?” He mumbles, his arms folded, and I feel like a child standing in front of him.

“Where are you going to pick me up at?” I ask, filling the awkward void, after seconds of silence between us after he shuts the door.

He smiles a dimply grin, “McDonald’s off main?” he suggests.

“Okay,” I say, grinning foolishly when he strides over to me. I’m surprised he didn’t attack me like our previous meetings. It was almost casual, like I was setting up an appointment with my coach instead of arranging details with my potential boyfriend. He kisses me roughly, both of his hands tangling in my wild hair and pressing me closer to him. His body is on mine, and I can feel every pulse in his body. I press harder though, because every time he touches me that hotness finds my groin and I want him so badly it almost hurts. I moan into his mouth as he surprisingly grips me there, and I thrust into his hand.

“Someone is anxious,” he mumbles, smiling as he kisses me.

“I can’t help it.” I respond,

 

After practically prying away from each other I return home and Ezra is grading more papers on the couch today, only Miles isn’t here. And, deep, deep down I’m very thankful. I still haven’t built up the courage to ask him for details about him and Avian, and in all honesty, I’m not sure I need to hear it. But, I want to, desperately.

So, desperately I’m sitting next to Ezra thinking of how to word it staring blankly at the TV where some car show is playing and in the back of my mind I’m registering that my rock-teacher brother is into car shows. “So, Miles told me some stuff,” I hint.

He takes off his glasses, and stares at me with his icy blues bored with this conversation already. “And what might that be?”

“Well he mentioned something regarding Avian and him.” I let it all flow, and he still looks so bored. “Some gay stuff,” I try seeing if that peaks his interest at all, and he puts back on his glasses like I had just told him about my day at school.

“Yep,” he mutters.

“And?” I ask itching for more information.

“And my brother is an idiot. He pretended to date Sally’s sister while he was really in a relationship with Miles. He used and abused him. Your friend is a broken toy. And, I feel bad for him. That pretty much sums it up, right?” He asks, obviously unconcerned with this matter, not bother scanning me over. But, I’m nearly as composed.

“Why did your brother do that?” I ask, even though I know he wants to be done with this conversation.

He shrugs, “Because our father found them for one, and for two he lives in Louisiana now. Long distance relationships never work out.” I don’t want to ask anymore, mostly because my brain is trying to process Alec and Avian’s relationship now. I think back to Ezra mentioning Sally’s sister at the dinner table, and now it makes sense. Ugh. Life.

Out of the two times I met Avian (Who is almost the polar opposite of his brother; bright blonde hair and green eyes like his fathers. He’s extremely smart too, I heard he was valedictorian.) He never in the slightest came off as gay, not that I was overanalyzing. But, hearing this now, kind of changes my outlook of him, and I think he’s just awful for doing that to Miles for one. 


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