Yes, that last one would be Tyler.
The egotistical jerk.
“So repeat after me: Consensual sex is not bad.” She spoke slowly, her hand gesturing for me to say it back.
“Consensual sex is not bad.” As I repeated, my cheeks heated, and that lump in my stomach churned.
“Again.”
“Consensual sex is not bad,” I said for a second time with a bit more conviction at her encouraging smile. With my third time saying it, the lead weight that had formed with my nerves dissipated slightly, and I felt a bit more ready to go inside. Slipping out of the passenger seat, I followed her into the brightly lit store.
We didn’t talk on the short walk to the aisle, Lyla letting me look over the shelves a bit on my own when we found the condoms. My eyes narrowed and my head tilted as I scanned the boxes. Ribbed, warming, extra thin, extending, and on and on it went, and by the time I had scanned all the choices, I felt more confused than ever.
“Can we just get the most basic kind and tackle all of this”—I gestured to the different colored boxes—“when I’m a bit more experienced?”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that’d be the case. It’s a lot, but we’ll get there on a future episode of The Lyla Teachings,” she declared with a flourish of her hands. “None of the guys or you are allergic to latex, right?” When I shook my head, she picked out a blue box and continued, “Perfect, so for the first episode of the show, I’d just go with something like this. Simple, basic, does the job. Do I need to get a banana or a cucumber and go over how to put it on?”
“Oh my God, Lyla, no, please don’t,” I groaned, ripping the box out of her hands and stepping back so she wouldn’t be tempted to try.
“Fine, fine, party pooper.” Laughing, she stepped farther down the aisle, waving for me to follow her. “Another thing we’re going to hit on the first episode, lube. Not necessarily required for some, but nice to have on hand. Nothing like going dry mid-way through.”
“Dear lord,” I muttered, letting my face fall into my palm.
“What? It’s another basic, yet essential, tool for the bedroom… or wherever you choose to do it. Besides, if you want to try bum fun, then it’s an absolute must.”
“You did not just call it that.” I balked, my already blushing face no doubt turning bright red.
“What? Would fifth base or anal work better? How about butt stuff?” Lyla’s brows waggled as she teased.
“I hate you,” I huffed, unable to stop the laugh from escaping. As much as I would rather let the ground swallow me whole, there was a piece of me that was grateful she was willing to help me navigate all of this. “Can we just get a normal one?”
“Well, there are a lot of normal ones since the ingredients work for different people and different things, but the most common one would be something like this.”
“All right,” I said, nodding as I looked over the small squeezy tube she handed me. “Is that it for now?”
“Yeah, yeah, we can be done for now, let’s go check out. But stay tuned for the next episode of The Lyla Teachings where we’ll cover threesomes, safe words, and the art of BDSM,” she announced like a TV show host.
Only I would be best friends with a female version of Reid, but I can’t say I don’t appreciate her—and her weirdness.
However... I could go without hearing the phrase ‘butt stuff’ ever again.
Anonymous
Self-defense? I thought with a sneer. What a useless pastime. My scoff was gruff and harsh inside the cab of the car. She could very well pretend that it would help her. Let her have her false sense of security... I knew the truth. With her head in the clouds in the moments she wasn’t surrounded by her guard dogs, I could hardly ask for an easier target.
I knew the brat’s schedule, when and where they’d be specifically throughout the week, and I could wait patiently to finally get her alone. It will be easy, I noted, going over the possibilities, as a delightful sense of satisfaction flooded me. I would bide my time because she’d ruined everything… ruined me. She would pay dearly for it. I knew that the moment I took her, the moment I got my payment for her part in all of this, would be more delicious than any other fix.
9
February 20th
Ugh. At least in the face of a hateful assistant principal, I know I’m not alone.
#WhyDoYouHateMeSoMuch #ScrewMrDeRosa #ThankfulThursday
“All right, class,” Mr. Davids announced, silencing the class’ talking. “We’re going to be preparing for our final tests once again, so if everyone would pair up with their partners, you can head to your stations to start today’s chemical compounds.”
Shifting off our stools, Jesse and I moved from our table and back toward the workspace of the chemistry lab. Neither of us talked for a while as we worked, conducting the experiments to try and determine the chemical we’d been given. It was tedious, yet I found myself enjoying it.
“Fire looks to be purple,” Jesse stated, letting me know what to note down on our work paper. “What’s the next test?”
“Looks like the chloride test,” I read aloud after scanning the instructions. “I’ll grab the silver nitrate.” We worked quickly, and with ten minutes left in class, we had determined our chemical was potassium chloride.
“Well, that was pretty simple.” Jesse breathed out a relieved breath, sinking onto his stool next to me. “We make a good team, Em.”
“Yeah, we do,” I told him with a smile. “I can see why Reid likes science so much, though it’s hard to imagine him staying serious long enough to conduct experiments without blowing up the lab.”
“Reid is a man of mystery.” Jesse laughed. “I find it quite boring, but at least it’s decently easy to do as long as you follow the tests correctly. So, how has your week been, Em?”
“Eh, normal,” I said with a shrug. “Not sleeping the greatest, and my mom is still being a helicopter parent, but I’m keeping ahead of my homework which is nice. We’re still doing the study group today, right?”
“Yup, at King’s.”
“Cool, cool…” I trailed off, my exhaustion wearing on me, but I forced a grin on my face as Mr. Davids approached our table, a small stack of papers clutched in his hand.
“Jesse, Emma, here are your quizzes from yesterday.” He handed them back with our scores facedown. “Very good job, both of you. I have no doubt that you two will pass the finals with flying colors,” he praised. As he walked to the other few tables that had completed their experiments, I flipped over my quiz and almost did a happy dance.
99.5%.
Heck yes! I nearly squealed, my cheeks aching from how bright my smile was. It had been a tough few months since my first ACT test, yet that blow had been ingrained into the back of my mind anytime I took an exam, quiz, or turned in homework.
I knew it was silly since my most recent practice test had been good, but I had started to doubt myself and my abilities since September. Now though, holding what was my fourth A-grade quiz since the start of the new year, I felt that doubt subside.