*All characters engaged in sexual activity in this story are at least 18 years of age*
*Note from the author*
I had always loved to read these kinds of stories. Over the past years I seem to have read all of them on Literotica. With that, I decided to write me own. The only writing I've ever done is in my high school English classes, so please bear with me. Any feedback is welcome feed back. Chapter two is mostly done if y'all want to read that too. Best wishes and a happy new year -- BlueBran
*
Ch.1
"Mother fucker," he said, hitting his alarm clock for the third time that morning. It was Monday, and just like Garfield, James hated Monday's. He hated Tuesday's too. He pretty much hated every day that wasn't the weekend, where he got that much needed break from the monstrosity that is high school.
James wasn't your average high school kid. He didn't play football, always said it got in the way of deer season. Didn't play basketball, he just never liked it. He played baseball up until a few years ago, but he sort of lost interest after a disagreement with the coaching staff. James didn't listen to the music everyone else did, thought rap was a talentless art, instead he found himself listening to old Hank songs, and every once in a while, some Merle haggard if the mood was right. He wore his beat up boots and wranglers every day, unlike the nikes and joggers everyone else wore. If you put him in a crowd, you could spot him in an instant. He was about 5'11 in bare feet, but his Irish setters put him up to about 6'. You never saw him without a beat up ball cap on his head. James was what most city people call a redneck, driving around his big old beat up diesel truck (a 1989 dodge Cummins 5 speed for all you motor heads out there). He chewed stokers, a habit his mother hated, so as a result he made his best effort to hide it.
He climbed out of bed, cursing the warmth of that he just left, and trotted to the bathroom in his underwear. It was 6:15 in the morning, he didn't have to be to school until 7:30 when classes started, but his dad raised him to always be early, so he'd probably get there around 7. James wiped the sleep from his eyes and stared at himself in the mirror. He saw his tired eyes, three day beard he kept putting off shaving, and his messy hair.
"Fuck this," he said to no one in particular.
He silently went about his morning routine, brushing his teeth, putting on deodorant, and packing his lip with the stokers he loved oh so much. He wondered what he'd do without it. He certainly wouldn't be able to function in the morning. Dip to him was like coffee to some. James lazily threw on his dirty jeans, and a ratty old t-shirt he found on his floor that didn't smell to bad.
"I really need to do some damn laundry," he said, again, to nobody in particular.
He climbed the stairs from the basement in which he lived, and walked into the kitchen, thanking god his mom left for work before he got up, so he didn't have to hide his dip. She was a nurse at the local hospital and had to be to work early, which she didn't mind since she got to be home earlier than most working people.
James walked out into the garage, slipped on his Irish setter cowboy boots, and trudged out into the snow to go start his truck up so it had time to warm up before he left. Sometimes he hated his old truck, since in Michigan it got cold, real cold, and old trucks just love starting in the cold of winter. Not. Luckily for him, it turned over on the second try and puffed out that big cloud of black smoke he has come to love. Yep, today was just like any old morning to James, and he still hated it. He hated going to school. For many reasons. It was boring, he didn't care for many of his teachers, the food was shitty, but most importantly, Ally was there. Oh how he dreaded to see her in the hallways, sitting next to her in what seemed like all of his classes.
"Fuck the seating chart," he grumbled out.
Ally Smith was the reason James didn't date much in high school, the reason had never really done anything with a girl. She's the reason he didn't do a lot of things. Way back in seventh grade, James started to get a little middle school crush on her. He was logical, and figured she was way out of his league, and she'd never like him anyways. He was also smart enough to realize it was just a middle school crush, and it wouldn't last. How wrong he was... it seemed like she ruled all of his thoughts from that moment on. When they hit freshman year, he got paired with her for a science project. They never really talked much before that, but it seemed like that project brought them together, and from then on they were very close friends, more times than not, best friends.
It may seem strange that since they're best friends, he's dreading to see her, and you would be right, it is strange. James loves their friendship just as much as he loves her, but she could never know that. He made it a point that she'd never know that.
To her, they were just best friends. That's it. James lived for every minute he got to spend with her, but at the same time he dreaded it. He hated spending time with her, and not being able to hold her, and since they were best friends, they spent a lot of time together. They went over to each other's houses almost every day, sometimes spending the night if it got too late to drive home, or if the roads got bad. On more than one occasion they were snowed in at one of their houses, home alone, Parents trapped at work. For normal best friends, this is no problem, but to James, it was almost like hell. He wanted so bad to tell her how he felt, to hold her in his arms, but he just couldn't. He couldn't risk the friendship. He figured having her as a friend was better than not having her at all.
Ally was a shorter girl, about 5'3", and built not like your average girl. She was skinny, but not as skinny as the other girls who felt like they would die if you couldn't see all of their hip bones. She had fairly muscular legs due to her years of soccer, and long dirty blonde hair he loved so much.
But enough of that, back to the dreadful Monday morning.
As he sat in the warmth of his house waiting for the truck to warm up, James took out his phone to see if he had any texts from Ally. He did, three of them. She seemed sort of worried about something for some reason.
*James r u up?*
*James can u call me?*
*James I need your help?*
He wondered what had gotten into her, but thought nothing of it, as she always was worrying about something, that's just how she was. He hit the call button next to her name and let it ring. She surprised him by picking up on the second ring, since she normally has her ringer off and ends up having to call him back since she missed the call.
"James thank god you got my texts,"
she said, almost like she was in a rush, or just worked up about something, he couldn't tell.
"Yea, you seem worried, what's up?"
"Oh my god James! I don't know what to do! I was on my way to get gas before school and I hit some black ice and slid off the road!"
"Ally are you ok? Where are you, im on my way right now?"