The Quarterback Dilemma

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic

My first attempt at writing something for young adults. Maybe it's a bit steamy for young adults, I'm not sure. Really couldn't decide what category to put it into. But whatever, this one's just for fun and it's unfinished. I'm not American, so setting something in an American High School is a little foolish and there are bound to be errors.

Some sexual content and bad language.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - The Quarterback Dilemma

Submitted: June 23, 2012

Reads: 1345

Comments: 2

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Submitted: June 23, 2012



Monday February 5th

Yesterday I made out with The Quarterback. I had no intention of doing any of it, but he kissed me and then before I knew it I was kissing him back and he had his hands down my pants. I wasn’t going to let him do all that to me and I was certainly not going to do all that to him, but to my surprise I found myself begging for it.

Needless to say I am horrified. He is and always has been extremely good looking; even I can’t fail to see that. However he is also and always has been what one might call a Dick, with a capital D. And a Douche. And now a Disaster in the making.

The problem is I can’t get the whole thing out of my head. It happened; I accept that and no amount of wishing it away will unhappen it. I can’t tell anyone, of course, so it is going to have to live in my head getting bigger and bigger so to speak. I have always been impulsive and this time I have gone and done it. Making out with the quarterback is one step too far. Making out with one of the people who is capable of making my life a misery was not a GOOD IDEA.

I wasn’t even drunk or high. I was stone cold sober. It was two in the afternoon for God’s sake. On a Sunday. Oh why did he have to look at me like that? With those ridiculously long black lashes? Why did he have to put a finger on my lips and look at me like that? And why oh why did I have to lunge at him like a bitch on heat?

We were arguing. I was attempting to confront him about what he did to my friend, Stu. It was a very stupid idea to do that alone. I was going to blind him with my vocabulary and ability to express a rational and unbeatable argument, but who was I kidding? Did I really think The Quarterback gives a damn about rational argument? He just stood there with his arms folded while I whined on and on about fairness and mature behaviour and … I cringe to remember it. He had this little grin on his face and was looking at my mouth the whole time, and for some reason I stopped mid sentence and found myself looking at his crotch. That did it I suppose, with a Neanderthal like him, that’s all it took. He stepped towards me and placed his finger on my lips and I lunged at him. I don’t know why!!! I couldn’t help myself and his kiss was so deep and tasted so good and then his hand was in my jeans and I was grinding into him and fast reaching the stage of no going back. And the worst bit is that I was going to stop and walk away. While he was muttering curses into my neck I was mustering the resolve to push him away, but something in me snapped and I found myself begging for more, scrabbling at his belt buckle, grabbing at him. And the boy whose name I can never bring myself to use actually had me yelping that name as he made me come. I hate him.

He was in my Math class today. He gave me a look so steamy that I was tempted to play with myself under the desk. What have I done?

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