I woke up feeling quite surprised that Karla was nowhere inside the guestroom. Even after a few minutes of checking, I couldn't find any evidence she had set foot in my room while I slept. I was as shocked as I was relieved to find all my clothes where I had left them!
Everything that had happened the previous night still felt like a hazy dream. The fight between Karla and her husband, especially, was something I only remembered when I saw their icy stares at one another during breakfast.
"So..." Karla's expression was a frozen frown. I didn't believe for a second she was not in control of it. "Did everyone sleep well?"
There were mutters of agreement across the table. Clearly the two sons were aware of the tense atmosphere between their parents. Even a dog could have probably sensed it. I hoped neither of them chose to dig too deep to find out more about their fight.
The milk I was poured tasted... off. It was not sour enough for me to believe it was spoiled, but certainly sourer than I'd expect any cup of milk with sugar to be. I wrinkled my nose at the drink very subtly.
"Tastes off? You shouldn't have put so much sugar there, Peter. It'll kill you!" Karla threw an innocent, motherly smile at me.
Warning bells immediately started ringing in my head when she said that. I panicked. I glanced at the sugar, at the milk... at Karla.
What had she done already?
I kept shouting internally. I must have looked absolutely mortified, because my friend would soon lay a hand on my shoulder.
"Relax, Pete," he'd chuckled. "Sugar's not
that
deadly!"
I chose not to have any more sugar in my milk. In fact, I hardly even stirred it, leaving a pile of it at the bottom of the mug when I was done. My paranoia was such I didn't eat any of the colorful cupcakes that adorned their table that morning. Or bread. Or cheese. Karla, of course, smirked whenever I declined a piece of food. It must have been quite pleasurable for her to be the only one who knew why I was so paranoid.
"Are you sure you want to go to college? With this much stoicism, you could consider a monastery!"
Her two boys laughed at that quip. Even George cracked a little smile. Everyone was having a good time, except for me. My rage was only rivalled by the sheer terror I felt related to what had been on that sugar. It took a reminder of the upcoming hike for me to finally relent and eat something else. Grudgingly, I had a single piece of bread with the minimum amount of butter I could put on it. Naturally, Karla opted to make another monk joke, though a less successful one than the first had been.
Time slowly crawled towards the point breakfast was over. I wasn't certain if my headache was due to Karla's poisonous sugar (which at this point was nothing short of radioactive as far as my mind was concerned) or due to the rage I was already feeling so early in the morning.
Despite my eagerness to get the stupid hike over with, I will admit seeing Karla geared up for it still managed to please me. There she stood in all her glory, wearing her Scoutmaster uniform for the first time since we'd started our affair. I had seen her in that outfit dozens of times before. Now, however, it felt like a new attire. If I didn't have a fetish for feminine uniforms, Karla had just changed my mind on her own.
The brown shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal some of the flesh between her breasts. Had it always been this tight and short around her torso? When I saw her stretch, it went as far up as her belly button. I couldn't believe I had taken so long to find out how ridiculously hot Karla looked in that outfit. The black shorts didn't even reach her knees, and seeing her perform a couple of quad stretches was enough to make me realize those were also irresistible when Karla did them. I don't think you can blame me for not paying much attention to the sneakers she was wearing. By the time her stretching was done, I was hard as a plank and not at all happy with our impending hike up a hill. Karla's green eyes flickered with their usual mischief for a moment when they noticed me staring, before quickly reverting back to their motherly ruse. I still didn't know how she could change their expression so quickly.
Five water bottles were distributed between us on our way to the bottom of the hill. Even in the car, the tension between husband and wife made itself felt. Karla's voice was so gentle she felt like a whole new woman. The only times it had any semblance of rigidness was when she gave her husband directions or otherwise had to speak to him.
"Remember, we're doing this for fun," she'd said as she put the last bottle back in her backpack. "We don't have to climb the whole thing."
"But it's one hell of a view," George grumbled, hardly in the mood to join his wife even for a basic conversation like this one.
The trip was largely forgettable. Apart from the awkward silence and the dull instructions of how we would be able to rest in several spots on our way up, there was little to remember. At one point, my boredom was such I even stopped worrying about Karla and her insanity. Only when the car stopped was my friend comfortable enough to start talking to me openly. I was hardly focused on what he was saying, though.
The truth is that I had largely ignored the hiking part of this little rendezvous with Karla. I had wanted to fuck her. I had thought as far ahead as the dinner, but no more. Now, as the steep trail stretched before me up a tall hill in the middle of nowhere, I was finally coming to grips with what I had truly agreed to do. Needless to say, I was not too happy with the day that laid ahead of me.
"Daunting, isn't it?" Karla stretched herself in front of me again for good measure. I couldn't even focus on her mocking eyes when all her body was showing me the different ways she could be fucked. Even the muscles on her lower back turned me on.
"Yes," I managed to murmur once my eyes were successfully averted.
As soon as we started the climb, Ricky took it upon himself to race further ahead into the unknown, with little concern from either of his parents. George, by himself, kept his eyes on his son from afar. Further behind were me, Karla and her oldest son.
"I have a feeling you'll have to give Peter part of your lunch, honey," she kept telling him. "With that kind of breakfast he is really going to struggle today."
I had grown used to Karla's behavior at this point. Just by looking at her, I could tell when she was trying to get on people's nerves. Or to make them squirm. Or to humiliate them. There was not only a certain nastiness in her voice and eyes, though. There was also a hunger of sorts, a dose of impatience that made her eager for her next thrill. Like a mean kid poking a dead animal. What Karla was desperate for was a
reaction.
She was lucky that she usually got what she wanted before too long. I was, this time, able to predict exactly when she would try to make me squirm.
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you! Peter yesterday told me such a great joke."
"He did?" my friend raised a brow.
He knew me well, I'll give him credit. The last joke I had intentionally cracked must have been before I was out of primary school. Still, Karla pressed on with her lie, undaunted. My mind was quickly mustering its defenses for whatever was coming.
"I was surprised too! What was it, again? It was about centaurs? And their..."
Karla held up her hands to very obviously hint at a dick joke. Then, she stifled a laugh in the most artificial way possible. I lost my patience before things got much further than that.
"Shut up, Karla..." I muttered without even thinking.
My friend and his mother both widened their eyes, him no doubt a lot more genuinely than her. Karla quickly went silent, before hastening her pace to leave me alone in the mess I had just created for myself. She was fucking delighted with this turn of events, I'm sure. Even the way she retreated from us gave away her vicious happiness to me.
"What the hell, man?!" my friend looked reasonably outraged.
"Ugh..." I ran my hands through my hair.
"That was my mom you were talking to!" he seemed to believe I had forgotten.
I shook my head with a sigh, trying to find a proper excuse to explain this.
Was
there ever a proper excuse to tell a friend's mom to shut up? Even as an adult? My explanation was hardly a masterpiece, but I really could find nothing else.
"I'm sorry... I didn't sleep too well. Mosquitoes..." I grumbled.
"Well, you shouldn't apologize to
me
," he glanced at Karla, still walking ahead of us, no doubt listening in to everything we said.
At that moment, I was genuinely reminded that yes, I should. If there was anyone there that really deserved my apology, it was him. For this whole mess. For my meddling in his family life. For encouraging and reinforcing the worst aspects of Karla's already terrible personality. Despite this, I sighed sadly and like a coward, I simply nodded:
"You're right. I will."
