Forbidden

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

Chapter 8 (v.1) - How Romantic

Submitted: January 28, 2014

Reads: 89

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 28, 2014

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A A A

Chapter 8 - How Romantic

 

Besides the better parts of my days, there is school which I’m on the rocks about Miles. His ego is back, but that isn’t always a good thing. And, there is also the beginning of the whispers and rumors of who is taking who to homecoming dance. Miles has of course already planned that him and I are going together (Since I have no boyfriend that I can speak of). Sally is taking her Middleton boy, and Myra is still searching.

There is also practicing for our upcoming meet with Baytown. My legs are notably a lot stronger now, and I don’t get winded as fast as before. Yet, my dogs are always barking when I’m heading towards the locker room after our meets.

Friday, school goes on like normal. The fourth week of a new semester… If you missed school before, you definitely aren’t missing it now. Luckily, I always have three out of five best days, because I’m ending them by seeing Caleb.

After practice, I bide my time like always so I can walk with him down the pathway almost alone. It isn’t as intimate as our time at his father’s cabin, but I would walk with him over anyone else. “Do you have plans this weekend?” I say quietly, though I’m positive we’re alone.

He shrugs, looking around nervously, “A few.”

“Oh?”

We’re nearing the doors, “Family get-together.”

“Oh.”

“But,” he pulls me towards the wall, shielding us from the view of the double glass doors. “If you want to,” he kisses my cheek, “hang out I can get out of it.” His eyes are large and indigo against this pinkish sky. His body is directly in front of mine, one hand on his hip and the other on my chin holding my eyes on his.

I don’t want to seem selfish, so I just shake my head. “It’s fine.” I mumble. He kisses me again hurriedly, interlacing his fingers into mine as he moves away from the cover of the wall and starts through the double glass doors. We break away once we’re both inside.

Yet, I can’t help but to want to be selfish with Caleb. I’m off my monthly, and it isn’t like I’m a horrible selfish person that always gets her way. In fact, I think it’s the opposite. I hurry into the locker room, rushing to get dressed, stuffing my things into my backpack, and I rush to the office where I normally meet with Caleb. The door is already open, and I step inside. He looks up from his desk, pen in hand, and he grins. “So, I thought about it and if you want to ditch your family this weekend…,” I raise my hands whenever he’s about to interrupt me, “That’s fine with me.” I shrug, and then a sound comes from behind me. Someone clears their throat and my heart drops to my stomach. I turn my heel slowly to see an ashen Ezra standing glasses on with his hands behind his back.

I hear Caleb’s chair squeal against the tile as he comes to his feet, joining us at the door, I look at him with owlish eyes, “Let’s just practice on Monday.” Caleb looks from me to Ezra nervously.

“Okay, sounds good,” I feel like all the blood has drained from my face and is starting to boil in my stomach as I walk away from both of them. I pick up pace once I’m outside of the gymnasium, and I don’t stop jogging until I’m at my car. I lean into the door, inhaling and exhaling and trying to get a grip.

I’m opening the door whenever I hear someone call my name. I stare at my empty car seat debating on whether or not I have enough time to get into the car and pretend like I didn’t hear him. But, whenever I turn finally, I see Ezra hurrying passed the last few cars that separate us. His hands are in his pockets of his jeans, it’s a little chilly out, I do admit, but I’m much too embarrassed to feel anything besides that… humiliation.

“What was that?” He asks catching his breath placing a hand on the top of my car almost brushing my ear as he does. He’s so close I can feel his breath.

I shrug coolly, “What do you mean?” I slip my back pack off and toss it into the back seat.

“That back there? You aren’t seeing that prick are you?” He sounds a lot angrier than I would have ever expected. I don’t know if he’s mad that I’m seeing a teacher or that he’s just mad because I’m seeing someone in general.

 I’m at a loss for words. “Seriously, Penelope,” he says touching my shoulder. I jerk away because after going through a whirlwind of emotions only one stands out now – Anger.

“It’s none of your business.” I say with so much finality and I slam the door shut. I start up the engine and he’s in my passenger seat in seconds, throwing his messenger bag into the back seat.

We don’t speak for moments. I try my best not to look at him. I turn on the radio, and then he turns it off. “Listen,” he starts, and I’m not sure I want to. My embarrassment is fueling this rage inside of me now, but I bite my tongue. “You don’t know that guy like I do.” He says.

I can’t help it, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I mutter stopping at a light behind a red Porsche.

 “But, I do. Just listen to me, please.” He’s begging with me.

“What don’t I know?” I give in.

“We used to be friends in high school. I was dating this girl Miranda, and he stole her from me.” He says looking out the window.

“So, that’s it? You’re mad at him and don’t trust him because he stole your high school girlfriend five years ago? How does that have anything to do with me?” I’m a lot calmer now. I almost pity Ezra.

“No,” he shakes his head. “He just isn’t a nice guy.”

“He’s only treated me nicely.” I say sweetly smiling a little.

“It won’t last for long.” Ezra mutters.

We pull into the drive way shortly after that, and we don’t talk about it anymore. The weekend flies by. I don’t hear anything from Caleb until I see him that Monday. We don’t actually talk until after the track meet and I’m closed into his office. He doesn’t attack me like he would usually do. There is this awkwardness between us that I feel completely responsible for. So, I start, “I’m sorry about last week. I know I should be a lot more careful about this.” I wave my hands between us.

He doesn’t look mad at all, but he does seem like he doesn’t want me here. So, I stand at the door, waiting for him to say something, and he doesn’t until he sits back into his chair. He folds his hands under his chin, propping his face up with his elbows, “its fine. Accidents happen. If he was going to rat us out he would have done it by now, right?”

I never thought once that Ezra would squeal on him, so I nod, “He wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“If you say so,” he says finally smiling at me.

I want to question him about what Ezra had said to me about him, but I don’t know how to bring it up. So, I just let it go for now. I want to enjoy this little bit of time we have together, and he waves me over to him. His smile growing into this large, toothy grin and I takes me by my hands once I reach him. He pulls me onto his lap, and we’re making out furiously for a while. He smells like sweat, clean linen, and sweet, sweet lust.

Before I leave him, he reminds me of the competition on Saturday. I’m his best runner, which doesn’t say much when you see my team mates.

 

Saturday, I wake up at nine with should be against the law. My mother wants to take me, and I’m somewhat mortified that she’s going to be so close to Caleb. But, it’s not like our relationship is written all over our faces, right? My palms shouldn’t be drenched with sweat whenever I get out of the car. I shouldn’t be searching the twenty or so oblivious-of-my-existence faces in the parking lot hoping and also not hoping to see him. But I am, and whenever she touches my shoulder I jump.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” She says looking at me measurably while her oversized sun hat flopping in the breeze as she flattens her shirt looking like that over the top suburb mom with her red lipstick and matching red skirt suit. I had to talk her of wearing her matching scarlet pumps and that silly scarf thing some women tie around their chin to keep their hats from flying away. She wouldn’t turn down the hat though; the hat just had to come too.

“I’m fine.” I press my lips into a smile hoping she doesn’t see through my façade.

“Then c’mon,” she jerks her head to the side, and I shift away whenever she tries to put her arm around me. I’m about an inch taller than her, so that would be awkward plus some. “The first time is always the hardest, honey.” She’s been giving me little tid bits of advice like this for days now. I’m sick of hearing it, but I just continue smiling, picking up my pace a little.

Baytown’s track isn’t at their school; it’s down a long stretch of a road near railroad tracks and fields filled with cows and hay. Their parking lot is gravel and I feel it in my soles all the way up to line of event-goers in front of the three small booths with three high-school-aged tellers sitting behind the small shiny glass screens.

“This is Penelope Sanders,” my mom gestures to me, holding her hands out like I’m on presentation and the teller looks at her list of names, nods at us, “And, I just need one ticket.”

We get her ticket, cross the maroon rope, and I start to search for Caleb. I’m trying not to think of all the people here, because there is a lot. The stadiums are partly filled, and there are still people in line to get in.

Caleb finds me before I find him, “Hey, you were supposed to come in around back.” He throws his thumb behind him.

“My bad,” I shrug. I don’t remember these instructions.

“It’s fine, let’s go,” he takes me by my hand and I jerk it away so quickly I think the boy walking beside us dropped his ice cream cone.

He turns around, looking at me like I’m a ghost, and then I look at my mother nervously who is paying more attention to the people around us than us. And, hopefully what just happened. “C’mon,” he says again, and this time he takes my wrist. I don’t jerk away this time, he leads me through the crowd, and I hear my mother somewhere behind me calling my name.

“I’ll meet you after the match.” I yell over my shoulder.

We continue until we’re through a heavy painted brown door, entering the blackness and the door shuts concealing us inside. I hear the sharp click of a lock and then, he’s pressing his mouth onto mine, and we stumble backwards meeting something hard and cold as my shirt hitches in the back. I let my hands search his body in the darkness and he moans into my mouth whenever I do.

“I always get so excited before a competition.” He huffs breaking away from my lips, stroking the skin between my naval and breasts underneath my shirt. Before I can answer, or protest at all his lips are back on mine. They are soft, wet, and quick.

“I can see that.” I manage after we stop to breath. I can’t help but to hold my breath the entire time he kisses me. “Isn’t the meet starting soon?” I’m finally breathing normally.

He checks his phone, and I can almost see him nod in the darkness. I hear the swish of his shorts as he heads towards the door. I already know what he’s going to say, but, “Count to 30, then come out, meet me near the concession stands.” I let him say it anyways.

I counted to 20 instead of 30, but whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m tired of counting in the dark because we can’t be normal boyfriend and girlfriend. I find him talking to a few people whenever I stroll, up but he greets me with formality like we are really just student and teacher. We head towards the building we had just left; I notice the words “Storage Room,” painted on the side of the building, but instead of returning, we pace over to another row of buildings underneath the bleachers. I see only two of the other three team mates, apparently our second fastest runner called in sick yesterday. Fudge.

So, with all the pressure on me, I sit through his pep talk. He throws the words run, fast, distance, knee pads around a million times before we are let out. We head further under the bleachers, until we part through the break away, past the high metal gate, and we sit on the bleachers fastening our pads whenever crowd roars. We see our competitors march out, their big and nasty looking girls with matching head bands and braids going down their backs. Some are wearing face paint, one girl has a black dot on her nose and drawn-on purple whiskers; she still looks tough. We’re only three to their six, so we’re going to be racing twice.

Each time I finish I’m nearly out of breath. These girls are like stallions, they don’t even seem to be trying to beat me, but they do each time. It’s like their jogging almost, and I’m running like I’m trying to outrun a rapist. Though, I’m not completely let down whenever it’s over. I won one race, against a short Asian girl with pig tails and the smallest maroon shorts. She gave me the stink eye as we were leaving the track, mouthing something in Korean that I didn’t catch. As she left the track, her team mates sheltered her, the whiskered-face girl threw an arm over her and another girl said: it’s okay Mae. Whenever I returned to the bench with my team mates Morgan is picking at the grass and Fran is staring in the distance with red-rimmed glazed over eyes, and giggling at something.

I sit between them, as Caleb drops a hand on my shoulder and mumbles, “good job, champ.”

Before I leave the bench, after the game is over, Caleb whispers something into my ear, and then I hurry to find my mom. I’m completely dumbfounded whenever I see Ezra and Ezra’s arm wrapped around that raven hair goddess Alex. She’s grinning at me with her white pearly teeth which are almost as stunning as her green glare. “What are you doing here?” I try to say emotionlessly. Ezra shrugs, looks away like I’m the most uninteresting person here. I guess I am while standing next to her.

I wince whenever she hugs me, and squeals, “You did good… Baytown was always a hard one for me.” I get it. She’s pretty much telling me she used to be in track. But, I don’t care.

I ignore her, “Mom, some friends are going out, going to go with them, bye.” I say all in one breath and then I turn around.

Ezra catches my shoulder, “Which friend?”

“Myra and Sally,” I say through clenched teeth looking from his hand on my shoulder, to his hand thumbing the little bit of flesh that is revealed above Alex’s shirt hem, and then to his face. He looks so smug.

He tilts his head, “have a good time.”

“Yeah,” I snap and I buzz through the crowd towards the little building under the bleachers wear teams can change and shower.

Luckily, the place is almost empty by now, so I hurry and slip into the building. It’s dark, and he puts his hand around my mouth like I was going to scream. He locks the door with his free hand. His grip is tight around my mouth, and he leads me forwards. The floors are concrete, it smells like sweat, and I’m trying to push Ezra from my mind. We don’t stop until we have turned twice, and he flicks on a small light just above the showers.

He’s shirtless. He’s staring at me with those dark blues, looking at me all over, and I feel warmness spread through me. It starts in my stomach, wrapping around my spine, and then in the depth of me. He’s still holding my hand while his other hand tugs at my shorts until they fall around my ankles. I involuntarily shut my eyes because for some reason I don’t want to see the expression on his face. I’m not gorgeous like Alex… I’m just plain Penelope Sanders. And, I know this has nothing to do with Caleb… but, everything to do with Ezra.

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly.

I shake my head, because there is no way to explain positively. This is supposed to be something good, and I’m ruining it. The warmness inside of me seems to be dissipating, but whenever I open my eyes he’s still looking at me the same. “Nothing, I was just thinking about the game today.”

He helps me take my shirt off, and I’m glad I decided to match today. My brown hair is messy all over as it teases my back while he unfastens my bra. I cover myself quickly as the inner heat flames again, and my bra hits the floor. He moves away from me then, and then, I hear the sounds of water hitting cement and it splashes my legs. I kick my shoes off, and take my socks off quickly and kick them as far away as I can. Whenever he returns to me, he ushers me into the shower as he pulls of my underwear. He draws the curtain, and I stand expectantly underneath the water still covering my bosoms.

Then, the light is off again, and I’m nervous suddenly. There is a bit of sun light cutting through the ceiling above us as I notice my chipped painted toes near the drain. He comes to me then, and his hands find mine. We’re kissing first, and it’s intimate and this hotness inside of me is growing. It makes my legs wobble and my insides feel like tremors almost as this new pressure arrives. Then, he leaves my lips and kneels down, forcing my left leg onto his shoulder and he’s kissing me wear I’ve never been kissed before. He has his mouth full whenever I start to spasm, as the pressure releases and I cry out so loud for seconds trying to catch my breath inhaling a bit of water but I don’t care. I want this pleasure to live on, but whenever it ends he stands up and says, “My turn,” and then he turns me around. He puts a hand on my back, forcing me to bend slightly and then he inches inside of me painfully, but I take it. I grab for the wall in front of me, but he steadies me back into position and he starts to hammer into me hard and fast. My hair is flying every which way until he gains a rhythm. He’s stroking my back, and then my sides until his touching my breasts. He’s moaning and pulling me harder against him every time. The pain is starting to reach my thighs, but I just take it. Then, with one last harsh jerk he pulls out and I hear the splash of water and I move away from him as he finishes himself off. How romantic.

We drive home in silence, it isn’t until we’re almost there does he say anything. “You did well today.” He mutters pushing a hand through his short golden hair.

“Maybe we should go a little be slower next time, my legs hurt,” I mumble, and that’s the truth. They didn’t hurt so much after the races, but after that shower… holy cow.

“I meant on the track. But, yeah… I get a little too excited sometimes.” He laughs.

I don’t join in, “It’s this one,” I say, pointing at my little house, and he stops on the opposite side of the road. I wave, and jump out the car… sort of happy to be away from him. It was like a whole different side came out in that shower, he was so aggressive.

Inside, Ezra is there with Alex playing video games on the couch. They don’t look up from Madden whenever I come in, and I’m okay with that. I feel like I need another shower, so I hurry upstairs and do just that.

 

Monday after track is different, he doesn’t delay to walk with me, and that’s okay I guess. I get dressed in somewhat of a hurry, but careful to make sure Ezra isn’t hiding around the corner to get another gander at my secret relationship. I knock on the door, wait about two minutes, and then I knock again. I step back, looking at the bottom of the door, and the light is off.

Tuesday, in the car with Ezra is whenever he starts on it again, “So, who did you really see after the match on Saturday?” He asks, not wearing his seat buckle, slouched down in the chair fiddling with a Rubik cube.

“I told you already.” I mutter already annoyed with him this morning.

He snickers, “Well, I know Sally was at a choir event at the hospital.”

“Why do you care so much about what I do?” I haven’t been in the best of moods since Monday, and he’s really riding my nerves now. I feel like snapping, but I grit my teeth and bare it.

I look over briefly to catch a shrug, and he flicks his hair to the side, “I’m just being that concerned big brother you never had until now.”

“I never asked you to be anything like that.”

“You didn’t have to. After seeing you with Caleb, I knew you made sucky choices.” He’s finished the Rubik cube and thrown it onto my lap hurting my sore thighs.

“He’s not a bad guy.” I protest.

“So, you went and seen him.”

I shrug, “It’s none of your business.”

“He uses girls, Penny. You think he stayed with my ex after he fucked her? No, he moved on to her friend, and then her friend and I’m sure he didn’t stop there.” He looks so earnest.

“It’s been years since then.” I say trying to convince him and myself now. I pull into the school parking lot. “He’s more mature now.” I hope.

“Yeah, right,” Ezra looks at me like I should know better, but I really don’t.

 

Wednesday, I’m determined to talk to him after the meet so I organize this entire plan. After we run, I see him hurrying with the other girls up the path, but I call after him, and he has to stop whenever Fran looks over her shoulder. “Coach, I need to talk to you about something.” I say again.

“What is it?” He asks, walking back towards me looking almost as annoyed as I feel with his eye brows pinched.

I wait until the other girls are at a safe distance, “Do you want me to meet you in the coach’s office?” I ask hopefully and somewhat deflated because I think I know the answer. Though, part of me wants him, another part just wants to find out if Ezra is right.

He shrugs, “I have to be somewhere, sorry.”

“Oh,” I say looking away from him because I feel the corners of my eyes burning and I will cry if I continue to stare at him, “okay.”

He touches my chin, tilting my head towards him,  “I’ll see you Friday, though.”

I fold my arms uncomfortably as a breeze cuts through us, I’m still looking away whenever I say, “sure.” 


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