Usual Disclaimer Time: Even though this story almost entirely takes place in a high school setting, all the characters in this story are 18 years old or older, and since we're living in the wide wonderful world of porno-land here, where clichés roam free and things might get a little unrealistic from time to time, please remember it's all in good fun, I swear.
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Previously, on Senior Year Memories: After getting revenge on bully Kyle Bowman at Homecoming, nerdy 18-year-old Ryan Collins retreated to his best friend Tori's house along with cheerleaders Kaitlyn and Brooke. After downing a little alcohol, the three of them engaged in some vigorous group sex, where Ryan and Tori had sex for the first time. The next morning, Ryan admitted that he thought he was in love with Tori, while she stated that she didn't want to be in a relationship given the uncertainty of senior year. Uncertain he wanted to keep it casual, while still wanting to stay friends with Tori, Ryan agreed.
***
The fallout from what happened at Homecoming was everything we'd hoped it'd be come the next Monday morning. All that and more, really. Though the rumor mill had gone crazy, especially in speculation of what the hell had happened at Homecoming (and what was all over Kyle Bowman's face), amidst all the fake news and exaggerations, I was able to sort out one major fact that was completely inarguable.
Kyle Bowman had been expelled from Regan Hills High School.
Nobody knew if it was more for the drugs or for having been exposed for drunkenly driving his car through the side of Principal Carpenter's house, but that he'd been expelled was undeniable. Social media posts indicated he'd spent the night in lockup, and while he was bailed out the next day, his legal future was far from settled. He was eighteen, and he'd fucked up pretty badly. For now it sounded like he was going to be sent to private school out of town, but when his court date came around...
I could've put a lot of thought to this, but after a couple days I decided that I'd put enough thought to Kyle Bowman. Even though he was defeated, and I was a major part of that defeat, I wouldn't let him take up any more of my thought processes.
Good riddance.
Unfortunately, while I was ready for Kyle Bowman to be behind me, by the time the next staff meeting of the Puma Press came around, it was the only thing anyone wanted to talk about.
"Look, I'm not saying we need to do a whole article about it, I'm just saying that we can at least make mention of the one thing that's got everyone around here talking!" Hope Harris protested. A tall and willowy band geek with large glasses and dirty blonde hair done up in a bun, she was one of the most surprisingly loud voices in the Puma Press offices, which was especially impressive considering how quiet she was in every other class.
My guess was, she got it from Nadia Barclay, the editor and guiding voice of the paper who stood by the room's whiteboard. Including her, there were sixteen of us representing the student voices of the Puma Press; twelve writers and four photographers. My best friend Tori and I were writers, sitting across from each other at one of the room's many mismatched tables and sharing amused glances as the fight over what to say about Homecoming went down. While the paper technically had to have an adult advisor, Mr. Hopkins rarely peeked his head out of his small office in the corner unless Principal Carpenter was coming around.
With good reason, he trusted Nadia to take care of everything.
"I agree with you. I really do, but it's not going to happen," Nadia said, her voice completely even. Her eyes passed over me fleetingly, a faint trace of a smile on her lips, but it was just that: fleeting. A beautiful and wickedly intelligent black girl, I'd only formally made her acquaintance when I interviewed for the paper a couple weeks back. I'd nailed the interview before I wound up fucking Nadia in all of her holes in the Puma Press' dark room, so there was still some tension between us, but she kept very professional during staff meetings.
"Why not?" Hope asked.
"Because it's an ongoing criminal matter? Because it's gossip? Because it's in bad taste? The school administration's given us every excuse and then some, but the fact remains they won't let us touch it. That right, Mr. Hopkins?" Nadia raised her voice to the corner of the room.
Mr. Hopkins stuck his middle-aged, balding head out of the office. "Whatever she said, that's right!"
Those were the only words I'd ever heard him say. Maybe it was his catchphrase, maybe it was the only thing he knew how to say, maybe he was just some elaborate puppet created by Nadia, whatever the answer was, it ensured that Nadia was undeniably in charge of the office.
Nadia continued. "We can talk about Homecoming. We can even mention a kerfuffle-"
"A kerfuffle?" Tori asked, amused.
"A disturbance. Commotion. Disruption. Need I run through the entire thesaurus to entertain you?" Nadia asked.
"Not today, but thanks for asking," Tori joked. Playfully, I kicked her under the table. She kicked me back. Nobody, save for Kaitlyn, Brooke, Homecoming Queen Addison Gonzalez, Kyle himself, Tori and I knew all of what went down that night, and it was hilarious listening to everyone speculate, even if I was tired of putting my own attention to it. It was a great and powerful secret Tori and I shared between us.
One of many that stemmed from that night, actually.
Unabated, Nadia went on, "We can mention a disturbance, but we can't mention any of the more sordid details, or any names. The truth aches for it, and when the truth complains, I hear it louder than anyone, believe me, but our hands are tied on this topic. Now, do you want to do the write-up on Homecoming for our October issue, or don't you, Hope?"
Deflated, Hope said, "Sure. Why not?"
Nodding, Nadia continued, "Good. Have it e-mailed to me by Saturday. Alright, sports writers, give me an interesting way of describing how we were utterly trounced in the Homecoming game without it somehow being all about how we lacked a star quarterback, since, let's be honest, we would've lost anyway."
While the sports writers droned on about the game as only they knew how (since most of the rest of the people in this room couldn't have given two shits about our school's football team), Tori and I silently eyed each other across the table, exchanging looks that were equal parts charged and tentative.
Things had been strange for us since the night of Homecoming, and not just because we'd had a four-way with Kaitlyn and Brooke. Well, maybe that was a big part of it, but I think the better chunk of the awkwardness that we were still coping with came from the next morning. Mostly from me telling her that I loved her, and her... less enthusiastic response.
I didn't go into that night expecting to have sex with her, let alone telling her that I loved her, but both of these things happened and neither of them could've been undone. Tori, amazing that she was, was good enough to tell it to me straight, to let me know that she did love me as a friend, but that she didn't want to be with anyone when we'd all be scattered to the winds at the end of the year. I said I got this, and maybe I even did understand it a little, but if given the option of being together with Tori and not being together with Tori, I'd have picked with her in a heartbeat. Don't get me wrong, I was loving the new status quo of fucking around Regan Hills High with as many hot girls as I could, but if Tori had asked me to be exclusive, I'd have done it in a heartbeat.
She didn't want to be exclusive, though. She wanted us to still be best friends, but with the sex to be strictly casual to not confuse things. We hadn't acted on that yet since Homecoming, not that I wasn't looking forward to some more sweaty, naked alone time, but we still hung out as friends.
It was like nothing had changed.
I wasn't sure if I liked that yet, but if it meant not losing Tori as a best friend, it was the compromise I had no choice but to accept, because in the end, that really was the most important part to me. If she didn't want to be in love with me, that'd hurt, but if she didn't want to be my friend anymore, that would've been the end of the world.
So, yeah, it wasn't a perfect or ideal solution, but it was better than most of the alternatives.
Now we just had to see where it'd take us.
"And that," Nadia said, finishing up with the sports crew, "brings us to our final point of the day: the Regan Hills High Halloween Scream."
This brought equal groans and enthusiasm in the room, and I made sure to add my voice to the latter. Regan Hills High School didn't have much going for it, but they went all out for Halloween. The Halloween Scream was a carnival-like fundraiser held on Halloween itself, where a number of the school's clubs put together haunted houses and booths to raise as much money as they could to keep them funded. It was mostly an excuse to have a place to be to dress up on Halloween if you were too old for trick-or-treating, but the haunted houses were often fun, and they sometimes had some pretty decent bands perform. Having never been a part of any school extracurricular before this year, this would be my first opportunity to participate in it in a capacity past attendance, and it had me excited.
Nadia waved down the naysayers. "Now, yes, I understand that it's a lot of work on top of everything else we've already got on our plates, but the paper's budget is dependent on fundraisers like this. If we do an exceptional job, and I mean really knock it out of the park this year, we might actually be able to afford some new equipment around here."
We all took a quick look around at the broken tables and mismatched computers, many of which were older than us and few of which worked reliably.
It was impossible to deny that we could've used some money.
"What're we doing? Selling snacks? A game booth?" Hope asked.
"Not this year. I fought pretty hard with the administration, but I finally got us a slot hosting one of the haunted houses," Nadia said, beaming with pride.
If only the rest of the room shared her enthusiasm.
"We're fucked," Willie White, one of the photographers bemoaned.
I looked around, confused, then finally whispered to Tori. "Why are we fucked?"
Tori leaned in closer, explaining, "Because the drama club's always got the best setup. They've got the stage crew helping them with everything, and they always sell more tickets than any of the other haunted houses. Running one against them is about as good a way to lose money around here as it gets, unless, you know, you put it all in a pile and set it on fire."
That... well, that was less encouraging.
Nadia, though, was prepared for this exact argument to be brought up. "Look. I know it sounds like an uphill battle, but the drama club doesn't get any more seed money than any other club to set up a haunt. And what do they need the money for, a better backstage lounge? We're motivated, we've got some of the best writers and other creative minds in the school who could help us put an amazing story together, some of the darkest minds..."
With this, she nodded to 18-year-old Josie Wong, the busty goth photographer whose picture I had in my Senior Year Memories album licking my cum off of Nadia's face. The memory caused my cock to stir, forcing me to readjust how I was sitting at the desk. Looking to Josie, I could swear I saw her looking at me, smirking at my discomfort.
Nadia finished, "...and some secret weapons that they won't even see coming that'll put us over the top in a way we never would've been able to pull off before. If we play our cards right with those, we'll have a haunted house that those drama geeks wouldn't even dream of in their darkest nightmares. Isn't that right, Mr. Hopkins?"
Not hearing that she was messing with him, he stuck his head out of the office and said, "Whatever she said, that's right!"
