All characters made-up to appear in this work of fiction are over the age of 18.
Once again, this story is a work of fiction - it never happened.
And, a rape fantasy does not EVER condone actually hurting someone in real life.
With this preface in place, let us begin.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Hannah Deene was skipping P.E. again. It was easy to bluff the teachers that she had a headache, or an anxiety attack, or her period, but the coaches were getting wise. She needed some inspiration. Walking slowly so she wouldn't look suspect, she picked her exact moment, and slipped behind the dense brush that ran the whole length of the building outside the gym. She picked her exact place too, directly underneath a small window high above the girl's showers.
Soccer was on their way back from the field, so even if anyone did look around the backside of the building, no one would notice a single wisp of cigarette smoke against the steam of hot showers and wafting fragrance of soaps and perfumes. When the lockers slammed and squeaky faucets turned, she lit her first cigarette of the morning, and sank to the ground, leaning back against the brick. Normally, she tuned everything out, but today, the crying caught Hannah's attention.
"I can't escape her no matter where I go!" Someone was sobbing out quite loudly, loud enough to be heard over the jets of water. "You're the only one who can stand up to her! Please, please, please!!"
"Courtney, I really don't think this is a good idea, and I don't want to spend any more time around her either."
"Jodie, PLEASE! You saw how she was today and Mrs. Kleehammer didn't lift a finger to stop her! She's just like that in cheer only worse because there's fewer of us. It would be so easy, a few girls have already dropped and Mrs. Clyde is extending tryouts! PLEASE, Jodie! You're the best friend I have and I need your help!"
"I don't know what you think I'm going to be able to do, but if you want me there with you that badly, then fine. I'll cheer with you. ... ah, hey! Not so hard!"
*muffled* "thankyou!thankyou!thankyou!" *muffled*
ahhh drama. Whatever is going on, it sounds like more fun than P.E. This I have to see.
Hannah picked at the woodchips in the loamy earth, some poking her butt through her jeans.
You know, Donnie gets P.E. credit for managing the football team, and he doesn't do shit but smoke and jack off. I think I just found my win/win.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Please don't call on me, please don't call on me, please don't call on me.
"Miss Miller!"
I hate my life.
"Yes, Mrs. Krisner?"
"Miss Miller, you haven't performed for the class yet. Show us what you've worked on over the summer, demonstrate something you've improved upon."
Mackenzie Miller closes her eyes to blot out distractions, and needs a deep breath to slow her heartrate and steady her nerves. Pursing her lips, her tone is steady, and her solo overture fills the room. The music from her flute flutters in ups and downs, and brings delighted smiles to her teacher and classmates, but Mackenzie is focused on not thinking about that. As her movement trails to a gentle close, her classmates applause is received in the scarlet flush of her cheeks, and a dip of her head tilts her matted straw-golden hair down to shield her face from the crowd of fifteen.
"Miss Miller that was wonderful!" The teacher glows, "Thank you for sharing that with us!"
Please stop making such a big deal out of it.
"Thank you, Mrs. Krisner."
"psst. Hey, Mackenzie, that was really good, good job!" Brooke whispers excitedly. "You're a total star, I loved it."
Thanks, Brooke.
"... Thanks ... Brooke."
"hmpf."
Mackenzie couldn't hear where the noise came from, but she saw Emillie's hair flick to the side, and her arms cross tightly in annoyance.
Please don't be mad at me. Mrs. Krisner made me play, I didn't want to. You're much better than I am.
"um ... Emillie..."
"Don't talk to me." Emillie stands and walks right out the door as the last bell of the day rings shrilly overhead.
"psst. Hey, Mackenzie," Brooke turns in her chair and puts her arms out, wrists just touching her shoulders in a tentative hug. "If you'd like to build your confidence, I know just the way."
Mackenzie's heart , sank into her stomach, and her face turned pale and cool.
"No, no, I promise it's nothing to be nervous about. Everyone feels anxious about performing, but the more you put yourself out there, the more you feel comfortable in what you do! Have you ever thought about being a cheerleader?"