Lying Liars From Leland High Pt 03

"Tell it to me again from the beginning, love, help me understand." Detective Morris leans in, his intense eyes following you as you once again recount your conversations in the quarry with Lizzy and then the late night phone call.

"So you are saying that the Jovanovic sister got into a brawl with the deceased right before the police raided the party? And no one saw her after that?" Morris leans to the side and bellows over your shoulder. "PATRICIA!"

The portly administrative assistant, her ruby red glasses perched precariously on her nose, appears at the door frame, looking about ready to bite someone in half.

"Mr. Morris, not only am I not a dog to be hollered at but I am extremely busy handling these parent phone calls, as I'm sure you are aware..." but Morris cuts her off.

"That's nice Patty. Look, can you check if Elizabeth Lewis showed up for class yesterday?"

Patricia sniffs and adjusts her glasses. "I happen to know for a fact that she did not. And if I may speak unkindly towards the deceased, it was not exactly out of character for her. She and her friends would regularly cut class, most likely to go do drugs and..."

"Thank you, that's all!" Morris waves at her dismissively. She huffs and vanishes from view.

"But how did Lizzy get up on the flag pole?" You ask. "She called me last night, so it must have happened early this morning."

"Can you think of anyone else who may have seen her between Saturday night and this morning?" Morris asks. You wrack your brains, tumbling through all that had happened.

"I'm sorry, I can't." He nods sagely.

"I'll take it from here, love. Time for some more police work. Let me know if you hear anything on the rumor mill, alright?" He gives you a little cuff on the cheek and turns back to his paperwork.

"That's it?" You ask, a little reproachfully. "Just let me know if you hear something?"

He turns back to you, eyebrows raised.

"What, you want a little quickie shag before I go back to talking to this dead bird's parents?" He says sarcastically. "Time and place, time and place."

You wince. "Right. Sorry." You turn to go, shamefaced. Stupid, so stupid. You feel a hand on your shoulder.

Morris whirls you around forcefully and cups your chin, pulling your face to his, kissing you passionately. You cling to him, savoring the moment, before finally pulling yourself away.

"Later, gorgeous," he says, affectionately. You nod, still dazed, and wander off to class.

###

The school is abuzz with speculation, in whispered conversations, frantically passed notes and no amount of teacher scolding could keep their attention on their classwork. Above all else, the question remained, would the school cancel the dance this Friday?

God, you do not miss the self-absorption of teenagedom.

Principal Sheffield at least resolved that question with an announcement over the intercom right before the end of school.

"We understand that our community has been visited three times now by tragedy, and though the loss of Thomas Jovanovic, Matthew Herschel, and Elizabeth Lewis weigh heavily on our hearts, we must shoulder on and celebrate the life we have. In that spirit, the Sadie Hawkins dance will be held as originally scheduled this Friday evening. Thank you and stay safe."

A few scattered cheers rang out but they were quickly shushed by stern faced teachers and the final bell rang out before anyone had much time to consider the ramifications.

You stop by the library after school in hopes of confronting Simon about his duplicity but he had already left for the day so shouldering your bag, you make your way out the doors of the school towards home.

You glance down at your NextGen watch and briefly consider how long you have been inside this world. Counting the days on your fingers, you realize it is closing in on two weeks. Are there side effects to staying inside one of these worlds for too long? Of course not, you chide yourself. The workers at Talverton Keep spent months on the inside... of course, they did slowly turn into vampires and werewolves and whatnot but still, they were healthy when they returned, right?

You are shaken from your reverie by shouting in the school parking lot. Peering around the oversized bumper of a kid's truck, you see Jules arguing with two larger goths, decked out with spiky collars and black leather jackets.

"Why you want to know, fuckface? Want to go there and whack off about the last time Lizzy sucked your dick?" said the taller goth. He gave Jules a shove but Jules kept his cool.

"Look, I know Lizzy had a smoke spot in the woods where she hung out, I'm just trying to retrace her steps."

"Who gives a shit about that slut?" says the shorter one, spitting on the gravel. "She's dead as a doornail. Can't fuck her anymore - she's already fucked."

"Just because she's dead doesn't mean we shouldn't care. And what does it matter if she had lots of sex." Jules said, his voice rising. "She's a person, like anyone else. And she deserves respect, no matter who or how many people she sleeps with."

Your heart swells with pride for Jules for a moment and you are about to step out and join the conversation when it takes a sudden turn for the worse.

"Not anymore. Now she's just another dead bitch," says the taller goth. "Go home and cry about it, virgin boy."

"Just tell me where she hung out, and I'll be gone." Jules' voice is tight, you see his fist clenched but he doesn't move.

"Fucking make me." said the taller goth, squaring up to the diminutive Jules, pushing him in the chest.

"I'm not going to fight you, man." said Jules. "But I'm not leaving till you tell me."

"Not going to fight, that's too bad," says the taller goth, nodding slightly to his friend. The shorter teenager cracks Jules across the chin with a haymaker, sending him sprawling into the gravel.

"Woah, woah, hey!" you say, rushing around the truck towards the boys. The two goths look up, startled.

"Well, look it here, Nancy Drew has arrived," the shorter one sneered.

"Fuck off douchebag," you say dismissively, helping Jules to his feet. "You alright."

He gives you a nod then turns back to the other two.

"I still don't have an answer," he says, standing as tall as he can. "I'm not leaving."

"Fucking hell." The shorter one pulls back his fist but the taller one stops him. There's something in the expression in the taller goth's face, a moment of recognition or appreciation.

"It's the old railway cars out near Deer Creek. She'd go up there, smoke a doob, listen to some music and make out with whomever. It was her spot."

"Thank you." Jules says. "Bye." and with that, the two of you beat a hasty retreat before more fisticuffs can break out. As you weave your way through the parked cars, the taller goth shouts after you.

"Make them pay, alright? Whoever did this, you make them pay."

###

After a brief stop at Jules' apartment for flashlights, coats and, in a rather poignant moment, taking Lizzy off the suspect board, the two of you set off for Deer Creek. The first leg is a leisurely bicycle ride to an old forest road, and then following the overgrown railroad tracks deep into the forest.

"I really appreciate what you said back there," you say after a bit. Jules turns.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, about Lizzy being worthy of respect no matter who she sleeps with. Some guys really struggle with that." He smiles, blushing slightly.

"Well, I didn't say it for you. I said it for her. Because it's true."

"I know," you say. "Thank you."

The crunch of fallen branches makes a steady rhythm as you go deeper into the woods, the rapidly setting sun transforming the branches into dark silhouettes on a grey sky.

"This is a long walk for a smoke spot," you observe. Jules chuckles.

"An expert on smoking the ganja, are we Brenna? I never would have expected." he laughs.

"No, it's just... if she went to all this work to be out here, she must have really wanted some space."

"She has seven siblings, did you know that?" You shake your head.

"Single mom, seven brothers and sisters. At least according to the school records. She's the second youngest."

"Seven, jeez." you say. "I'd want my own space too."

"Brenna? I think we're here." Jules says quietly.

The rails take a turn and it is clear that here is where the original train derailed. Eight train cars lay scattered around the forest floor, like lost toys from some giant child. Some are propped up on cinder blocks, a few still remain on the tracks. All of them covered in english ivy, branches and moss.

"This is pretty cool," you say, clicking on your flashlight to peer into the nearest car.

"I think you mispronounced 'spooky'," says Jules. "This is pretty spooky."

"Psssh. Live a little. We are way out here, there's no one who can bother us." you quip back.

"Or hear us scream." Jules replies. "I'm just saying, if this was a movie, we are tempting fate here."

"Alright, mister genre savvy, let's see if we can find where she hung out."

###

Jules holds the flashlight while you heave open one of the rusty doors. You are greeted by the earthy smell of moss as a light rain urges you inside the metal car.

Inside, you see an old lantern and what must be hundreds of wax candles scattered around the inside of the car - on boarded up windows, on the floorboards, on little shelves installed on the walls. A battered old cooler is nestled in the corner and a beat up mattress is next to the one of the windows, set off by an old lawn chair missing half of its straps.

"Woah," says Jules, stepping into the car with you and shaking off the rain from his coat. "This is pretty neat."

The lawnchair next to the window is placed right next to an ashtray, and a quick sniff identifies a few burned out roaches in the tray. Sitting in the chair, you realize from this vantage point, you can peer out the window and enjoy a sweeping view of the forest, with a glimpse of the sound.

"Check out the graffiti!" Jules says excitedly. He points to a series of drawings at arms length from where you are sitting. Five cartoon sketches are arranged in a tight circle with fat black sharpie, their names signed underneath each. Lizzy is immediately identifiable with her smoking and flipping the bird. Cody stands next to her, his stick figure looming over the others, giving a thumbs up. Matt, his short spiky hair making him stand out, has his arm around the next stick figure, with long hair and a short skirt, Jessica. A heart floats above Matt and Jessica's sketch. On the other side of Jessica, Dylan stands with arms folded and webbed feet.

Together, the drawings are underlined with "the Railway Gang - 4ever 1992".

"So, who's missing from this picture?" you ask. Jules nods, "Tom Jovanovic. 1992, that would be right before the Jovanovic siblings transferred in. Looks like Jessica and Matt were an item before he showed up."

"That would be a motive for Matt - too bad I didn't get to ask him some questions before..."

"...he was disarmed?" Jules says. You crack a smile.

"That's bad." He grins back.

"Yeah it is." You point your flashlight towards the door to the next car. "I'm going to see what's in there."

"I'll be here, she's got a whole pile of books and sketch pads here, I'm going to see if they have anything helpful."

You pull at the rusty door, prying it open to reveal another car, this one mostly empty aside from a little kerosene camping stove and some trash. Poking around in the trash, you find a bag of chips, a crumpled up soda can and a receipt from an AM/PM. Dated for last night.

"Holy shit!" You snatch it up and dash back to the previous car. As soon as you open the door, you are bathed in a warm orange light.

Jules has lit every candle in the railcar, filling the space with a flickering golden light, keeping the rain and the darkness at bay.

"Oh, this is cozy!" you coo, plopping down on the mattress next to Jules. He clicks off his flashlight and puts away his lighter, turning to you.

"It is, isn't it?" He says, trying to suppress a little smile. "Almost romantic?"

"Definitely romantic," you say, taking his hand. Together you sit, outside the rain pounding on the metal roof, but the railcar is warm and inviting from the light. He looks deep into your eyes, searching for the courage.

"Brenna, I... I just want to say. Whatever happens with...us. With this case. With this school year. Whatever happens, I'm so proud to have known you and been here. With you. In this moment." He looks down, at your hands, fingers intertwined. "I'll treasure being your friend for the rest of my life."

You can't take it anymore. You lean in, capturing his lips in a hot kiss, cradling his face and pulling yourself to him.

Your tongues tangle as he wraps his arm around you. You press yourself against him, savoring his tender kisses. You feel his hands, gently, cautiously, rubbing your back. You sigh, encouragingly, and tug at the hem of his shirt.

He takes a moment, lingering on your lips a moment longer, before pulling away and with your help, pulling the shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest. He looks at your face nervously.

"Very nice," you whisper softly, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra. In one smooth motion, you toss both your shirt and bra aside. Jules gasps, his eyes wide, drinking in the sight of you.

"You are so beautiful. They.. they are even more gorgeous than I imagined," he murmers, worshipful.

"You can touch them," you say, taking his hand and pulling it to your breast. He gently caresses them, like a blind man discovering a marble statue. Softly, teasingly, he circles each nipple with just the tips of his fingers, sending shivers of delight through your body.

Leaning in, you steal more kisses, running your hands through his hair and feeling the passion rise. Finally, you push him back onto the mattress, letting your hands slowly trace a path along his collar bone, through the valley of his chest, along his taut stomach to the button of his levis.

He catches your hands as you start to undo his pants.

"If we... I mean, I don't want to assume but I don't have any... protection." You give him a wicked smile.

"It's okay, I'm on the pill and I'm clean. It's okay." His breathing gets short in excitement as you redouble your efforts, unzipping his pants and pulling them to his knees where he kicks them off. HIs underwear tents lewdly, straining to contain his throbbing dick. You graze it with your palm and delight as it jumps in your hand, the large head peeking out the band of his jockeys.

Reaching in, you grasp the thick member, easing the underwear down and stroking it slowly, up and down, the foreskin sliding back and forth smoothly. Jules groans, biting his lip as his cock begins to jump in your hand.

"Easy, easy. We've got plenty of time," you whisper softly. "Let's get me started so you don't finish too soon."

Staying seated, you wiggle out of your skirt and panties in record time, entangling your legs with his on the old mattress, savoring the feeling of bare skin on bare skin.

"Here," you say, laying flat on your back, you take his hand and guide it to your waiting sex, helping his fingers trace your outer lips. He props himself up on one arm, and tries to crane his head to see what he is doing.

"Feel your way, right here," you help him delve into your wet sex, and then back to your clit, your hand on the back of his, guiding his motions as he works little figure eights on the hood.

"Watch my face. You should be able to see if a girl likes what you are doing," you whisper but then he moves faster and you gasp in pleasure. "Uh huh," you moan, eyes closed. "Just like that."

You feel the pleasure building, faster and faster. Your face feels hot, and you look over to see his dark brown eyes watching you intently, enraptured by your beauty. Breath comes in ragged gasps - you reach up and squeeze your breast, pulling at your nipples, hard and proud.

"Oh god, oh fuck," you moan as he swirls around you clit. While doing that, he pushes two other fingers inside and rubs in just the right spot. You buck your hips. "Uhhhhhgggnnnnnn! YESSS!" you shout your orgasm, arching your back off the mattress and gasping for air. "Oh fuck, oh fuck!" he keeps going as the spasm electrifies through you till finally you pull his hand free, clawing for air.

For a moment, all that can be heard in the rain on the railcar and the sound of your breathing.

"That was amazing!" he sighs.

"Oh, we are just getting started," you grin at him, pushing him onto his back. You throw a leg over his and grasp his cock, painfully hard and weaping pre-cum with excitement.

"Are you ready?" you ask tenderly. He nods, not trusting himself to speak.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, you sink down onto his cock, letting the thick fullness fill you, inch by inch, until your bodies meet. You feel him swell inside you, but you grab his hands, interlacing your fingers with his.

"Stay with me Jules, don't cum yet." you command, holding still, "Just breathe." He looks up at you in awe, his sexual goddess, claiming him as her own. But his breath comes slowly in and out and you feel him steady himself.

You begin to rock back and forth, moving your hips in a slow, sensual circles.

"Oh, this is incredible," he moans beneath you. "I never imagined..."

Carefully, you pick up speed, using his hands as leverage, working your hips up and down, back and forth, loving the carnal sensations radiating through your body. You arch your back and a moan escapes your lips.

"Oh Jules," you sigh, the graffiti on the ceiling swirling above your head. "Oh god,"

His hips buck and you can tell he is getting close. Propping one leg up, you ride him hard and fast, determined to bring him to a blinding conclusion. His mouth is open, his eyes beginning to roll back in his head and once again, you feel him swelling inside of you.

"Cum for me Jules, give it to me, give it to me," you chant, your hips becoming a blur as you pound into him, riding him for all he's worth.

"Aaaagghhnnnnnnnn!!' he cries out, an anguished note. You reach back and gently fondle his swollen balls beneath your hips, pushing him as deep as he will go inside of you.

"Nnnnnnnggnnnnnnn," he moans, a deep cry of satisfaction and feel a gush inside of you as his cock belches load after sticky load deep inside your sex.

"Yessssss," you sigh, as he cums again and again beneath you as you ride him to the finish, till finally, he slides out of you, wet and satisfied.

You crawl up next to him, one leg thrown over his shuddering body, and hold him, sweaty bodies entangled amongst the candlelight and the sound of the rain.

###

The heavy rains have diminished to a steady drizzle by the time either of you speaks again. You slowly trace the contours of his chest, picking at the faint chest hair and watching the slow rise and fall of his breathing.

"Huh," he says. "Everyone says that having sex is what finally makes you a man, but I don't feel any different." He turns, looking into your glistening eyes. "Maybe we should do it again, just to make sure."

You laugh. "We can, that was lots of fun." He grins as you continue, "But if you are expecting some magic banner to drop from the ceiling saying, tada, I'm afraid you will be sorely disappointed."

"Oh, nothing about that was disappointing! Everything was perfect." he rushes to assure you but you wave him off.

"I just, I don't know..." he trails off, his hand making gently tracing little circles on your shoulder, "I just thought that I would feel something different. Like I leveled up or something."

"Virginity isn't real, you know that, right?" you say. He looks at you, confused.

"Try this on for size," you begin. "You lost your virginity with me tonight, right? Because we had sex. But what about a girl that only likes girls? When does she lose her virginity?"