I guess it was all Christine’s fault. Or rather, I suppose I have her to thank. Christine was a very rebellious girl in my school, with long black hair, overdeveloped breasts for a girl her age and an attitude that made the teachers wince whenever she even walked by. The boys all lusted after her, some secretly, some overtly, and she flirted with all the male teachers, though probably just to make them uncomfortable. The girls queued up to be her friend, not least because if you weren’t Christine’s friend she did her best to make your life a misery, and her best was pretty good.
I got in the way of some of Christine’s shots from time to time, but the truth was that I wasn’t interesting enough at school to even be bullied. I was average height, moderately decent looking (I can say with some modesty that I was a bit of a late bloomer), reasonably good at most subjects, but not enough to be seen as geeky. I was okay at sports, but not fabulous. I was just the invisible girl, wandering through life with nothing in particular to mark her out one way or the other.
I envied Christine her daring, and the boys. The more outrageous she became, the more desperately I wanted to be her. To top her, in fact. I had fantasies where I made her watch while I necked with her boyfriend, and where she watched as the teachers tried to chat me up. My dream life was even more vivid, bringing up my true subconscious desires, as together she and I raped the biology teacher, he screaming out in ecstasy as Christine patiently explained the intricacies of the g-spot to us.
His penis, I remember seemed enormous, but heavenly, moving inside me, and I also remember how I awoke, shrieking with pleasure, to my mother asking if I was okay, if I had had a bad dream.
No. No, not bad at all, thank you.
The next day I was deeply aroused. I had only ever been kissed once, and I had later learnt that he had done it on a bet. My own brother, who lived mainly these days with our estranged father, was the boy I knew best, and he had always seemed like a total waste of space to me. All in all I had a very low opinion of men, so no particular desire for a boyfriend of my own. But I did want that feeling back inside me again, soon. And this time for real.
I watched the teacher’s crotch through our next biology lesson. It didn’t look nearly as impressive as it had the night before, but maybe my subconscious had spotted something I hadn’t. In any case, I had hatched a plan.
The biology teacher ran a chess club on Thursday nights, straight after this lesson. I would go along, see if I could muster the courage to flirt a little. Hell, I’d watched Christine do it often enough. It wasn’t even as if, if anything came of it, it would actually be illegal or anything, we would both be consenting adults (though myself only just). It was just a dry run, I thought to myself, ironically enough, with my juices running down my legs in anticipation so much that I had to stop off to clean myself up on the way.
The chess club had never, to the best of my knowledge, ever had a girl go along. Not because we weren’t smart enough to play chess, but because it was populated by the kids even the geeks tried to avoid, nerds of the first order, who went breathless if a girl even sat on the same row. Not that they were ugly, particularly, they just didn’t relate to the rest of the school very well. Or even at all.
I arrived to the club a little late, as I had stopped to put make-up on, as well as mop myself up a little. I was breathless, and shaking, not just from running down there. But as I arrived I looked around the suddenly silent classroom to see that the teacher wasn’t there. I was so disappointed I nearly burst into tears. One of the geeks, whose name, like the rest of them, I still can’t remember, said that he’d just gone for some supplies. I couldn’t think what supplies a chess club might need, but sat down to wait anyway. I listlessly played a couple of games, and eventually entered into conversation with the boys. After I had won their confidence enough to get them properly talking, it transpired that the teacher wasn’t, in fact, coming back. They had made a deal with him some time ago that he could slope off to the pub with his pals while leaving them alone, ‘till he came back to lock up. Indignantly one added that sometimes he forgot for ages, and they’d had to hang on until ten o’clock.
My heart sank. I couldn’t wait that long. I might as well go home. I stood up to leave. All that work for nothing. The make-up. Hitching my skirt up to show off my legs, always my best feature. Well, second best, anyway, that and what lies at the top of them. Which I noticed for the first time all the boys, or should I say all the young men’s, eyes were glued to. One in particular was staring really hard at my ass, and when he realised I was looking at him he quickly moved his hand to cover his groin. Though not before I noticed the large erection he was covering, bulging under his grey school trousers. Good old subconscious, I thought.
I licked my lips, and looked around. The silence was deafening. I wasn’t scared of anyone in this room, I realised. I could trust them completely. The only kids in the school I ever could. Blood pounded in my ears. The boys exchanged glances. They might not have had much experience, but they were damn smart, and they read me like a book. The tallest one, the one who had spoken to me first, spoke to the boy nearest the door, with the last intelligible words I would hear any of them speak that night.
‘Watch the door, just in case.’
