As always:
Thanks to Boheminxen for editing.
Thanks to "Doc" for story consulting.
Author's note. This story is 13 chapters. Due to the length, it will be posted in two installments. Look for it in about a week.
All characters involved in sexual acts are at least 18 years of age. (So get your mind out of the gutter!)
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Chapter 1: Being Direct and Love
The first day of school for a high school senior is typically a day of happiness and reconnections with friends. I, however, had neither, but I wanted that to change. My high school career was marred by nonexistence. I was the guy who everyone knew but was friends with no one. I wasn't berated by the in clique nor was I a social leper. I wasn't one who wore rags, quite the opposite actually, as I wore untucked, button down shirts and jeans. I was a jack of all trades as I had above average grades, carrying a 4.7 GPA with slightly above average confidence, I could talk to anyone, but rarely initiated conversation. If I happened to be by someone talking about a party, I was told I could attend as an afterthought by the host. I could accept or decline without anyone caring. I could talk to the lesser citizens of the power structure of our school and not be thought of as a traitor. Most often, I was a fly on the wall. No one noticed or cared for my presence. I vowed no more.
Today is going to be the first day of the rest of my life at Hilldale High. I am determined to ask Shelby Preston to go out with me. Shelby is a beautiful girl who has the eye of many and the heart of none and is someone I had a crush on since the 8th grade. I found her talking to one of her blonde cheerleader friends on the benches outside in front of the school. I took a deep breath and steeled myself. I didn't want to be a bumbling idiot as I did this.
"Good morning, Shelby." I tried to sound as upbeat as possible.
"Hey Will." She said dismissingly as she took a quick glance up at me and then quickly went back to her conversation with the captain of the cheerleaders, Lindsey Hudson.
"Anyways, I was wondering if you would be interested in going out this weekend." I exuded as much confidence as I could muster.
"Wait. What?" Shelby and Lindsey both stared back at me.
"I was wondering if you were interested in going out this weekend." I repeated with a lot less enthusiasm.
"You're serious?" Shelby looked at me questioningly.
Lindsey then whispered something to Shelby and they both giggled. It quickly turned into a gut-wrenching hysteria.
I walked to my homeroom, dejected. Well, my senior year is off to a great start. In my first hour class, Spanish 4, Mr. Martinez mispronounced my name. Four years with him and he still calls me Will Hamilton instead of Harrison. Just another example of my invisibility in this school, not just too fellow classmates, but to the faculty as well. As I was walking to my second class, Stu Jones, a muscle bound all state linebacker and Edwin Matheny, our all city quarterback found me.
"Will!" Stu called.
I turned and was greeted by a hard punch to my testicles and fell to my knees with a thud.
"That's for asking my former girlfriend out," Stu proclaimed as he and Edwin left the scene, laughing.
I gasped for a breath. I now knew why no one has been out with Shelby since their break up.
During 3rd period, I found myself sitting across from a woman in her late 40's with her long, brown hair done in a ponytail. I wouldn't call her beautiful, but she was still extremely attractive.
"Will," Principal Larson started, "I called you to my office to inform you that your sixth period elective, working in the counselor's office, has to be changed."
"Why, what happened to Counselor Simmons?" I asked curiously as I had worked in his office the past two years.
"All I can say is that he no longer works in the school district and Counselor Evans and Counselor Phillips are taking over all his duties, but they already have aides." Principal Larson pulled a sheet of paper from her desk. "I have a list of classes here you can chose from to replace it with. Oh, Honors Calculus is available."
The Principal wanted me to go from a free hour to Honors Calculus. "No thanks."
"Let's see, how about Chemistry or Literary Composition and Analysis?"
I rolled my eyes.
"Well, here." Principal Larson handed me the paper. "Pick one."
I glanced over the courses. Home-economics, no. Geometry, Earth Science, U.S Government and Politics. No, no, and already took it.
"How about the school paper?" Principal Larson interrupted my thought process. "It's under Journalism, but it's really for the school paper."
Finally, an elective that doesn't require an apron. "Alright." I said in an almost defeated tone.
Lunch was exceptional as the cafeteria ran out of pizza right as I got to the front of the line. Not that it's anything great, but it was what I was settling for. Fourth period sucked as everything reverted back to all the years prior and I was ignored by everyone. Fifth period, I was hit in the back of the head with a spit wad. Judging by the reaction of the people who did it, the intended target was the social outcast behind me.
I was completely down in the dumps as I reached my new Journalism class.
"Good afternoon, you must be Will Harrison." The woman before me was absolutely exquisite. "I'm Miss Dyer, head of the newspaper." She offered me her hand and I shook it. "Welcome aboard."
There were only six other students in this class, Josh Hartley, Trinie Mackey, Emma Brant, Barry Whitley, Amy Saunders, and Phil Gaines. All of them were underlings in our civilization known as high school, but that never bothered me. After we got our assignments, I was to cover everything regarding sports, we were all asked to come up with possible story lines for the first issue. Miss Dyer really left us to our own devices. At least the view in this class is nice as Miss Dyer, who I found out was named Hilary, was beautiful. She appeared to be in her mid to late twenties and she had long, curly blonde hair, an ample top side, and wore a gold necklace with a cross attached that hung hypnotically over her blouse.
"Um, hello." A shadow loomed over the paper I was doodling on. The voice was shy and it quivered. Without looking, I knew it was Emma Brant. Emma is an 18 year old senior who actually looks like an adolescent. It was one of the main reasons why she was teased. She was short with red hair and pink glasses and it didn't help her that she always wore dresses that made it look like she was heading to church every day; today, it was a light blue sundress. She was the very definition of unassuming. But she was also very intelligent, one of the few candidates for our classes' valedictorian and a genuine genius when it comes to computers.
"Emma, don't be so shy with me. If you're going to talk to me, be direct. Say what you want, do what you want. I don't need this today," I said honestly. Condescendingly, but honest.
I wasn't in the mood to coddle her like I normally did. I know what I said was rude and I resigned myself to the fact I'll have to apologize to her tomorrow. I know I was one of the few people she said any words to and that was because I intervened in more than a few bullying incidents that involved her and the elites. All I really did was come up to her tormentors, pretending I didn't realize what was happening, and invite them to the Pizza Shack or ask about the most recent party and that distracted them enough for her to get away.
At last, the final bell rang, concluding my torture for the day. I got into my black Mustang and headed home. I walked into the emptiness of my father's upper class condominium. My father, John Harrison, is the Vice President of the largest Research and Development Company in the country, one with a slew of government contracts, and him being home anytime between five in the morning and ten at night would be the equivalent of spotting the Loch Ness Monster, Sasquatch, and a unicorn all in the same day. He worked seven days a week and I rarely saw him. Hell, I saw the maid that came by every morning more than him. I understood that was his job and I didn't resent him for it. He gave me a hefty allowance for taking care of all things related to the house and I got to keep what was left over. Since my Dad also took care of any big-ticket item I wanted, I never really had to buy much and therefore ended up with a plush bank account. As long as I got higher than a 4.5 GPA and didn't burn down the house or drive his car, I was pretty much left alone. I was beginning to make my dinner, a PB & J sandwich, when the doorbell rang.
"Emma, what are you..."
Emma threw herself at me, kissing me passionately. Sloppily and with no technique, but passionately nonetheless. There was a feeling I never quite felt before and one I can't quite describe. She pulled back and her shyness protruded back to the forefront of her persona. Her foot began twisting back and forth and her eyes were on the floor, awaiting my response.
I was momentarily stunned. "Wow Emma, what was that for?"
Emma looked up at me slowly. "You said I should be direct with you....Was it okay?"
I kissed her this time, slowly, deliberately, and that feeling was ever present. It feels like electricity is coursing through my entire body. If I felt it, she must have felt it too. "I like the new Emma."
A beaming smile graced her face as she wrapped her arms around me and squealed with delight. She began kissing me again with intensity. Her hand snaked southward, stroked my bulge a few times, and then fiddled with the button on my jeans.
I grabbed her wrists. "Emma, what are you doing?"
"I'm being direct with you." Emma looked at me as if I should've known better. "Listen, Will. I've had a crush on you since forever. I know I can make you happy in every way. I want you, I need you, and I will do anything and everything you say to keep you pleased. I love you."