Whom You Least Expect

This is a edited version of 'Whom You Least Expect'. My thanks go to Axelotto for editing my work and embellish it (I did so many mistakes, you must appreciate an editor when you find one) and KillerMuffin for her article 'Punctuating like a pro' on this site, it was very helpful and made me wonder about what I learned at school. This is a story of discovery and acceptance. This story contains references to drug use. All people involved are considered to be over 18.

Whom You Least Expect

"Miss Martinez, are you hurt?"

I had to lean back to see his face, the massive officer dwarfed my 5' 6", 136 pound frame. (I'm nearly 19, by now it is clear I got my height from my short (5'5") Hispanic dad's side of the family, rather from my statuesque (5'10") mom.) Meanwhile, his young Asian partner was handcuffing a beaten-up young man, about 25 years old.

"We're taking you first to the hospital then to the station," the rookie said to the young man, and then proceeded to read his rights.

"Look Officer LeBroc," I said reading the big officer name tag, "I am fine, he did not hurt me. Are you taking me into custody too?"

The African American officer picked a plastic bag with a rusty knife in it, shaking his head.

"No. You got witnesses and the store dependent is about to show us the video. We only need you to fill out this form."

I was looking for new shoes when the scumbag decided a shoe store was the best place to steal from customers. Two old ladies, the saleslady and I were the only ones at the store. He came inside waving that big commando knife; the ladies quickly gave up their purses with him, but when he tried to get at me pointing that ugly thing at my face I just lost it. He never saw it coming.

Years of having been bullied during my high school years had made me stronger. I devoted myself to a self-defense course for the last six months; a heavy protein diet, and a muscle building and tone up program at the gym had paid dividends today.

The saleslady showed Officer LeBroc the video. His eyes wide in amazement, he turned to look at me with incredulity.

"Miss Martinez, are you sure you are not hurt? That last kick to the head should have surely sprained an ankle."

"Now that you mention it, I think my heel broke," I said kicking off my right sandal. I saw the heel pivoting from left to right.

"Miss Martinez, we will be in contact," Officer LeBroc said sporting a big grin. I noticed the two old ladies talking with the saleslady as he left.

I was still standing there, sandal in hand, pondering the circumstances that made me face this robber, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw the saleslady smiling at me.

"Those ladies and I have decided to replace your shoes, pick one pair, it is on us."

I felt as a politician running for president. Yes, I was that elated.

*****

I drove home with my new shoes on. I remembered my last two high school years. I couldn't tell you the exact moment it happened, but one day a student began to harass me. First it was just notes like 'go away you nerd' or 'die you slut'. I was scared, this was the first time I had been bullied and I didn't know why. I was an 'A' student, so I supposed this was related to my academic prowess. I reported my harassment to the discipline board, but they said they couldn't do anything without knowing who wrote those notes. I went to counseling; they helped me to cope with my inner fears to the point I no longer was afraid of those aggressive notes. That's when everything changed.

I was sitting in the library one day, when Violet Beringer, one of the cheerleaders, sat down front of me. She was beautiful and popular, her boyfriend was Todd Johnson, a handsome and charismatic football player. She had decent marks on several subjects and was exceeding on a few more.

I was sitting there looking at her with awe, then out of the blue she told me to leave the school.

"What?"

"Fuck off! Get out!"

"But... why?"

"I can't stand you, as simple as that," the lean blonde leaned toward me and took off my glasses. She cleaned them with her shirt and put them back in my face. Her hands went from my face to my shirt's collar and easily pulled me from my chair.

"Leave the school or you will be sorry," she pushed me away, and I fell back onto the chair. Violet gave a weird glare, turned around and stalked off, leaving me speechless. What was going on? That was no reason to bully a person, it didn't make sense. Was I being bullied just out of spite?

At the time, I was quite thin. I was pretty bad at sports and did not like P.E., so she was much stronger than I. Still, I was decided to stay; I finally had a face to my problems and there no way I would let her win.

After that her harassment turned from notes to actions, but I knew that no member of the school discipline board would believe me if I told them she was behind everything, so I was forced to endure. She almost makes me abandon school with her harassment until I told my mother. Mom made me go to the gym; then take martial arts, and finally personal growth courses.

I graduated three months ago. And I did survive Violet. In fact, she made me a stronger and confident person—I was someone who could face her fears and overcome them.

*****

I parked my car outside of my two-story house and went inside.

"Mom, I will go out tonight. I want to flaunt my new shoes," I said strolling into the kitchen where she was.

"Hello Elsa, what did you buy?" She looked at my new white 3.5 inch heels, (and I should say, very sexy shoes) and commented, "They are gorgeous! Who is the lucky guy you are going out with?"

"Mom, stop it please! You know it's difficult for me."

"Are you telling me that after all those months you were taking that personal growth course, you don't have the willpower to find a boyfriend?"

"Mom, I will be going to College in a month. I don't need a boyfriend," I had decided to study Psychology; my motivation was my recent experience with bullying. I wanted to understand the mind process around this insane interaction, and in a certain degree, to understand myself as a former victim.

"The fact that you don't want a boyfriend is not a reason for not getting laid," my mom said bluntly.

"Mom...!" I was in a state of shock.

"Are you still a virgin, Elsa?"

"Yes!"

"That's what is worrying me, not many girls your age are virgins. And even though they wait for marriage, they end regretting it after that. I don't want that for you, I want for you to live your life without regrets."

My mother's comment made me wonder if she thought that way about herself.

"I understand what you are trying to say Mom, but I'm not going out to get laid!"

"Having said that," she rummaged inside a bag just beside her, took out a whole strip of condoms and handed them to me with a wink, "Take these with you."

I was still gawking at the condoms in my hand when she told me to go change.

"Don't worry. Your father knows about this and agrees with me," she told me while I was midway to my room. I was still reeling over the idea my parents actually wanted me to have sex. This family was weird.

Up in my room, I choose an off shoulder long sleeve white blouse that showcased my slightly toned shoulders and cleavage, a short white pencil skirt that molded my thighs and emphasized my not so ample but curvy hips (I consider them a blessing, it shows my Hispanic heritage nicely). I added a pearl necklace (fake of course, but I knew it worked well) and pearl earrings (fake again). I applied coconut moisture oil on my olive skin, light make up with a little focus around my almond brown eyes, and I finished with deep red lip gloss.

My hair was short, cut in a pixie style so it was easy to comb and fix, it framed my heart shaped face nicely. 'It's as black as the night' I heard my mom said a while back about it. My hair was maybe the only thing I got from dad, the rest was moms (except for her height; like I said, she is 5'10", her grandparents where Germans).

Looking at myself in the mirror, there was no sign of the insecure girl of the past; it showed a woman secure in herself and ready to take on the world.

"I need something to contrast," I said to myself while I went to mom's closet and took a red and golden brooch and fixed it to my left breast.

I went back down to the kitchen. Mom was sitting on a chair in our breakfast table.

"Will you let me use this brooch, Mom?"

She looked me over from head to toe.

"You look overdressed. Are you going to a club or a charity ball?"

"Mom I told you, I wanted to flaunt my new shoes."

"Okay, it's just that no man will want to bang a high class 'bitch' when the lower classes are easier to get."

"Mom...! I am going like this. If I am not getting laid tonight I still have tomorrow."

"Fine, keep the brooch. The floral theme looks great with your outfit."

"Thanks Mom!" I grabbed my car keys, my white purse and went outside.

*****

'The Scaredy Cat' was the newest club in town, located at the top of a two-story building. The clientele was mainly female. I picked this club because contrary to my mom's wishes, I had no intention to find a man. I was afraid I might lose my virginity; I still wanted to give it to the right guy. Maybe in college I would find him; at the moment, I just wanted to dance.

I strolled boldly up the bouncer at the club's entry and showed him my fake ID card, he knew it was false, but made no gesture to stop me. That would be bad for business.

"Have fun," was the only thing he said.

Inside, loud music assaulted my ears. The dance floor was almost empty; three couples were dancing to a frantic techno beat. One of the dancing couples caught my eye and I realized they were two girls.

An idea sprung to mind. It was perfect. I would dance with a girl; that way no man would try to pick me up. A tall red head with wild hair, a red tank top and cut off denim shorts passed by, I could see her smile at me and heard her ask 'where is the ball?' before she winked at me and moved on.

"Yes mom, I was overdressed," I said to myself, remembering my mom's words.

There were empty spaces all around; it was still early in the evening. There were pockets of people together and I could see couples cuddling close to the wall. I spotted the redhead from before, kissing an older woman.

I scanned around and found two more couples of girls. One of the girls had her hand inside her partner's jeans.

Now I knew why this place had more female clientele.

A couple on the dance floor caught my attention. I felt my blood run cold and a feeling of claustrophobia went to my brain.

Violet Beringer was there.

She was dancing with a woman. Violet was wearing a black shirt and a plaid skirt, her hair was moving wildly to the techno beat. Her dance partner was a stunning woman of uncertain age. She had short spiky hair dyed white and tanned skin. She could have been eighteen years old as easily as twenty eight. She was wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans that hugged her body nicely.

I suddenly realized I was holding my breath.

"Did you saw a ghost?" I turned and found myself facing the redhead from before. She was checking my face to see if I was fine.

"Something like that." My voice sounded throaty and dry.

"Is she your ex-girlfriend?" she said leaning toward my ear, her minty breath caressing it. I got goose bumps on my neck.

"Oh! No. We are just acquaintances," my voice faltered as I tried to fight the feeling of arousal this redhead was provoking on me.

"Oh! You mean she never knew? You were platonic over her, how cute!" I felt a surge of irritation; this girl was getting everything wrong. there was no way in my life I could love someone like Violet. Whatever, what was the point in arguing with her?

"I want to dance," I changed the subject, "Would she approve if I take you for a couple of songs?" I said motioning toward the place where her companion sat.

"Who, Jess? We were just playing over there," she said laughing, "I am yours the whole night if you want me."

I suddenly felt hot. What was happening to me? I found her amazingly attractive, her wild curly red hair framed a pale round face sprinkled with freckles and green eyes blazing like emerald fires. She was a good two inches taller than me, even though I wore my new heels.

I let her guide me onto the dance floor, where the frenetic beat of the music drowned my thoughts. As I was dancing I was overcome by a familiar feeling, like deja vu. My gaze snapped to Violet, who was dancing close to me, and it hit me like a wall of bricks. I had been attracted to another woman before; my conscious mind had simply denied it at the time.

*****

"Elsa," Mrs. Walker, our English teacher, gave me a notepad, "I want you to get Ms. Stavros signature; we need it for the debate practice this afternoon."

That meant we were going to be practicing instead of attending Ms Stavros' class; which was all right with me—I didn't like P.E. anyway.

"Yes, Mrs. Walker," I took the notepad and went to the gym's locker rooms, where Ms. Stavros office was.

I was tapping on the door to her office when a sound made me turn back.

Violet was there looking at me with confusion on her face, a sense of urgency was visible on her countenance. She was wearing her cheerleader uniform, so maybe it was her practice time; Ms. Stavros was her coach, so I guessed she was outside.

I tried to make my way around Violet, but she caught my arm and pulled me behind some nearby boxes. I had begun my training at the gym, and my self-defense course was just starting, but my self-esteem was still pretty low at the time, and I let her push me down on the floor.

"You don't move, and keep quiet," she told me, "Understand?"

My gaze locked with hers and I could see doubt on her face. It was also the first time I saw her looking at me not with spite but with worry. I nodded my head. I could hear that another person was in the room.

"Are you sure about this?" Todd's voice reached my ears, it was him on the other side of the boxes, was she going to have sex with him here?

"Keep quiet, Todd!" she said, walking behind the boxes, "We have ten minutes, so be fast!"

"Hey!" he was sulking, "I am not fast!"

"Shut up and put on that condom!"

I heard everything, from the muffled moans of Violet to the squishy sounds of their lovemaking. Something inside me made me want to watch, to know what was happening. The boxes were stacked up to four feet high; I overcome my fear for Violet's wrath and raised my head to spy on them.

I couldn't see much, just Violet's still clothed torso moving in a grinding motion over Todd's body. Her look was one of complete rapture; a face that exuded eroticism, need, desire. I was mesmerized by that face; her features were so beautiful, so unreal.

Regardless of what Todd said it only took him about two minutes to climax. The look of rapture was replaced by one of frustration. She opened her eyes and locked them to mine. There was shame now, fear even; as if she wanted to run and hide.

I hid again, waiting for her spiteful attack once Todd was no longer there. I heard them both go outside, but she never came back.

Violet stopped bullying me after that.

*****

There, on the dance floor, I suddenly realized an uncomfortable truth, I was attracted to women; and Mr. Right might not even exist. I needed time to sort my thoughts. I excused myself after the song ended, I needed something to drink.

"Are you okay?" my concerned dance partner inquired.

"I need a drink."

"What's your poison?" she said taking my hand and guiding me to the bar.

"Water, I drive tonight."

"Responsible, are we? I like that."

I took a minute to gather my thoughts. How could I be sure? I started checking out the girls around me. My eyes found these tall slender girls attractive. I knew what that meant, and I was not the slightest bit happy about it.

"Mineral water for you," my redhead companion had returned with a bottle in her hand.

"How much do I own you?"

"Nothing, it's on the house; they have a responsible driver policy here."

"Good to know."

As I was drinking my water my eyes returned to Violet's dancing form.

"Good God girl, you have it bad for her," she said sipping her recently served drink.

"It's not that," Violet had stopped dancing and her dance partner was pulling her off the dance floor.

"Miranda and your girl are going to have a nice time in the storeroom," the redhead told me between sips.

All the blood drained from my head and my legs felt weak. I remembered the motion of her body on top of Todd. A new feeling filled my heart, it was jealousy. I pushed it out of my mind.

"Do you want to see them?" a mischievous glint crossed her eyes.

I didn't know why but found myself nodding. She took my hand and led me to the same spot Violet had disappeared.

It was another room, hidden from the rest of the club; it was used to store boxes and other supplies. Sounds from outside were less loud now.

My companion put a finger to her lips and motioned me to crouch beside her, hiding behind some supplies.

"I don't want you to kiss me," I heard Violet say.

"That is one of the good parts," Miranda was complaining.

"Just put this on and fuck me!"

"What's this part that points upwards?"

"That's supposed to go inside you."

I could hear wet sounds and moaning, filling my mind with memories of listening to and then watching her with her boyfriend. The noises they made were too much for me, I needed to see for myself, just like that time. I was trembling as I leaned to the side so that I could see them.

There was Violet on her hands and knees as Miranda pounded a strap-on into Violet from behind. Her tan skin contrasted sharply with Violet's pale complexion.

I hid again as soon as I saw Violet's face. She did not look my way, but I caught her red bloodshot eyes. She was on some sort of drugs, this could be worst that I thought. I closed my eyes in frustration. What was happening to her?

I heard Miranda's wail as she came, and Violet's cries of frustration as she was left on the edge.

"Go on!" she was sulking, "I was so close!"

After all the things she had done to me, I knew she deserved a punishment, but never being able to reach an orgasm seemed too harsh a penalty. I smiled to myself at the thought.

"I should have known this would happen again, you are as bad as a man!" Violet's words were harsh and uncalled for.

"Shut up, you cunt! I think it's time for you to learn a lesson," I heard Miranda growl, and then some noise that sounded like a fight, and Violet gave out an oddly muffled scream. I opened my eyes wide and looked at my redhead companion. She was frightened, as if everything went wrong.

I stood immediately and advanced towards them. Miranda had pinned Violet against the floor and was grinding her crotch against Violet's face. A discarded strap-on lay on the wooden floor. Violet's arms flailed as she fought to liberate her head, but to no avail.

"Let her go! Don't you see she learned her lesson?" I knew Violet was in need of a beating, but I could not allow myself to see her like that.

The woman slowly stood to face me, her eyes were as red as Violet's. 'Please, let it not be meth' I thought. She was about 5'10" tall, with well-defined muscles.

"I think she likes what I am doing to her, now get lost!" Miranda snarled. I saw Violet's face and tears were falling from her eyes.

"Let her go, you ape!" I found myself saying between clenched teeth, my anger rising at a slow, but steady pace.

The irony struck me that moment, Violet was being bullied.