Sisterhood 101
Copyright© 2025 by WittyUserName
Chapter 8
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 8 - Kayla and her friends have graduated high school. Now it is on to college and the real world. New adventures, new loves, new friends. Yet, their crazy senior year in high school is not done haunting them. This story is a direct sequel to Birthday Pool Party. I did attempt to write the first chapter in such a way that someone who hasn't read Birthday Pool Party could follow along, but reading Birthday Pool Party first will enhance the experience.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Crime Humor School Tear Jerker Sharing Incest Father Daughter Light Bond Rough Spanking Group Sex Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Facial Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Sex Toys Spitting Tit-Fucking Voyeurism
~Kayla Thomson~
Wednesday September 10, 2025
I stifled a yawn with my arm as I sat in Public Speaking with Lexi, Marcia, and Ashley. The other three had Biology Lecture earlier, while I had a two-and-a-half hour long cheer practice. Being busy all the time was usually great. Some days, though, I just wanted a minute.
Lexi’s notebook was already open, her elbows resting on it while she played a game on her phone. Ashley sat beside the redhead, turned halfway around in her chair to talk to someone behind her. Marcia was next to me, her bag neatly tucked under the desk like she had taken the time to line it up with the edge.
Leaning back slightly, I let my eyes drift across the room as people continued filtering in. Dan was sitting at a table off to the side with Tasha Hoang. Like always, Tasha was wearing baggy clothes and had her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun. It seemed like such an unlikely friendship, but they sat together every class. Like it wasn’t even a question.
Professor Torres walked in with an eager smile and a friendly wave. “Good morning, good morning! I’m glad so many of you have stuck with me, despite the torture I put you through.”
There was some polite laughter.
“Alright, let’s get started,” he continued, setting his bag down on the desk. “For today, I thought we’d try something different to keep you on your toes: impromptu speaking.”
There was some muttering throughout the room while the professor just grinned at us.
“No preparation,” Professor Torres continued. “No notes. I give you a prompt. You speak for one minute.”
Lexi leaned over. “Not a good idea for me to speak without thinking.”
“You do it every day,” I scoffed quietly.
“Today’s question is,” the professor began dramatically, “What makes someone trustworthy?”
Jamie Torres paused to let that sink in.
“You’ll be called at random,” Professor Torres continued, pointing to someone. “Let’s start with you, sir.”
A guy near the front straightened in his seat, clearly caught off guard. Letting out a breath, he slowly got to his feet and started talking. He stumbled through an opening about honesty, eventually catching himself and mentioning people needing to prove they were honest. It wasn’t bad for the first speech, but it was clear he wasn’t great at being put on the spot.
“Next up; Tasha Hoang,” Professor Torres said, pointing at the quiet girl. “Let’s hear it!”
After a couple weeks of classes, I’d discovered the usually-quiet girl could be quite eloquent when speaking in front of a group. Tasha tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes flicking down to the desk before she looked up again. She rested her hands on the desk as she started speaking with no hesitation or stammering.
“Someone is trustworthy when they don’t make you feel like you have to prove something,” Tasha declared confidently. “It isn’t something you can properly quantify, but you can feel it. You can see that they’re the same no matter who they’re around. They don’t pretend.”
“Good,” the professor nodded as Tasha sat down. “Simple. Clear. Honest. Let’s hear what your friend thinks. You’re up next, Mitchell.”
Dan pushed his chair back and stood with no hesitation. “I think someone’s trustworthy when you don’t have to think about it. They just do what they say they’re going to. Even if it’s just something small. If they justify lying about small things, it gets easier to justify lying about the big ones.”
“Concise,” Professor Torres nodded.
I barely heard the next name called. I was too busy looking at Dan. His words were completely different than the Dan I knew in high school. He wasn’t selfish or only thinking about himself and his wants. Stepping in to protect Kelsey, making female friends for the sake of friendship. I had thought he was shallow, but I had learned I didn’t have him figured out at all.
“Next up, Miss...” the professor glanced over at our group, “Davis. You have the floor.”
Lexi slowly stood, brushing her red hair back behind her ears. “Trust is complicated.”
I nodded along. She was right. Lexi had trusted Keith and ended up in nightmare. I was curious what my Slut-sister was going to say; trust was something very important to her. For so long, she had no one.
“You meet someone nice and your first instinct is to trust them. It makes you human,” Lexi took a breath. “How do you know they won’t betray that trust? You see it in the way they treat others. Everyone is respectful to their employer, to authority. That’s normal. You need to look at how they treat people they could take advantage of with no consequences. If they treat a server like an equal rather than a slave, if they know the janitor is at least as good of a person as the CEO. If not better.”
Lexi paused again. “It’s easy to be nice if you fear consequences. How you act when you know there will be none shows who you are.”
“Interesting take,” Professor Torres nodded. “I also want to take a moment to remind you all of what gives a speech like that power. No using terms like ‘I think’ or ‘in my opinion.’ Why? Those take away from your argument. Be assertive. Be confident. Like Miss Davis. That’s more convincing.”
I didn’t look away from Lexi or Dan as the next name was called. Trust wasn’t something you could measure. You just knew; or you didn’t. I trusted Daddy, I trusted my Slut-sisters. I would always trust them with my life. I had trusted Ian and Stephanie, getting hurt in the process. In high school I would have said Dan wasn’t trustworthy. Perhaps I didn’t know trust as well as I thought.
~Daniel Mitchell~
Wednesday September 10, 2025
Chairs scraped while people talked over each other as they packed up and pushed toward the door like they were late for something. I took my time shoving my notebook in my bag before standing when the aisle cleared. Tasha stood beside me, hugging her notebook to her chest as if afraid someone would try to steal it.
“I liked your answer,” I told her as we walked toward the door.
Tasha glanced at me, dimples appearing on her cheeks as she smiled. “Thank you. Yours was good, too.”
“It always amazes me,” I replied, walking beside her down the hallway. “You’re usually so quiet, but you can be so in control and confident in front of a group.”
“I’ve always found public speaking easier,” Tasha shrugged. She was wearing her usual baggy clothes. “One-on-one is more personal. There’s expectations that are different. It’s intimidating.”
“I intimidate you?” I asked her with a smirk.
“Not so much now,” she giggled. “You’re a big hero, so I know I’m safe with you.”
“I’m not a hero,” I insisted as we exited the building.
“You kind of are,” Tasha argued. “Did you want to get lunch? Ashwood Pizza again?”
“Sure,” I nodded, but then remembered the owner. Dominic Varela. “How about the Commons instead?”
“Okay, that’s fine,” she smiled.
The Commons at Redwood Plaza was a prime hangout spot. It was lunchtime, complete with long lines, disorganized crowds, and overlapping conversations. Tasha grabbed a quick salad and a bottle of water while I went with a few slices of pepperoni pizza and a soda.
It wasn’t easy to find a table, forcing us to walk through the dining hall twice before we noticed a small group leaving. It was a side booth near the window, and we wasted no time claiming it. While I was most interested in my pizza, Tasha opened her notebook before she even sat all the way down.
“Already doing homework? It’s lunch!” I chuckled, grabbing a slice of pizza.
“You did know the purpose of college is to learn, right?” she teased with a small smile.
“Now THAT is news to me,” I gasped in feigned shock. “I thought it was to play football, party, and flirt with pretty girls.”
“I don’t do any of those things,” Tasha giggled while opening her water.
“How about I get you a helmet and you show us all how it’s done?” I offered.
“I’m good,” she shook her head. “If I saw all those big guys running at me I’d just give them the ball. If they want it that bad they can have it.”
“That’s the opposite of the point of the game, unfortunately,” I sighed theatrically.
“I know the rules,” Tasha stuck out her tongue, seeming relaxed with me. “You’re really good.”
“And here I was thinking you actually did know football,” I said. “You can’t if you think I’m that great.”
“No need to be so modest,” she replied. “You were amazing the first game. I just wish I could have gone to the second.”
“This week is a home game, so hopefully you can go to that one,” I told her, noticing she was looking shy again.
“I’d like that,” Tasha whispered, lowering her eyes to her notebook.
We fell silent as we started eating while multiple conversations went on all around us. Tasha was soon lost in her homework while I scrolled on my phone. Someone posted a few highlights from the game on social media, which distracted me for several minutes. I also got an interesting text and had a small conversation during lunch.
Scarlett: I’m okay. Thanks for checking on me.
Dan: Good. Glad to hear it.
Scarlett: I mean it.
Dan: That you’re okay? I would hope so.
Scarlett: No. Well, yes. I was talking about my thank you.
Dan: Oh. You’re welcome.
Scarlett: You’re sweet for caring so much about some random slut you banged.
Dan: Hey, if you’re a slut so am I.
Dan: It does take two to, you know...;)
Scarlett: I know.
Scarlett: I’ve just been having a tough time lately. Thank you for caring.
Dan: I’m here if you need anything.
Dan: Even if I’m just some man-whore you banged.:P
Scarlett: Okay, that made me laugh.:) Well played, sir.
Dan: Then it was worth it.:)
Scarlett: Dan ... you’re sweet, but you don’t want to get involved with me. Trust me.
Dan: You’re an amazing woman, anyone would want to. But that’s not what I’m doing.
Dan: I know we can’t undo what we already did, but I’m happy to be a friend.
Scarlett: Really?
Dan: Absolutely. I’m around if you need anything.
Scarlett: Thank you.
Dan: You’re welcome.:D
In the time it took to eat our meals, Tasha had somehow managed to write three pages. She even had tiny handwriting, making the accomplishment even more impressive. Unlike my terrible handwriting, hers was neat and easily legible, even from a distance.
“Hey,” I said, getting her attention.
Tasha looked up at me. “Yeah?”
“You said you don’t party,” I reminded her. “Ever been to a pep rally?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Why?”
“There’s one Friday,” I said. “You should go.”
She leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. “Why would I do that?”
“Free entertainment?” I shrugged.
“That’s your pitch,” Tasha smirked.
“Hey, it’s a good one,” I reasoned.
“It’s really not,” she giggled.
“I guess you’re not missing much,” I admitted reluctantly. “You should still go.”
“Why?” Tasha asked again.
“I’m going to go and could use the company,” I replied honestly.
“Oh,” she blushed, once more looking shy. “O-okay. I’ll go.”
“You changed your mind fast,” I observed.
“It was nice of you to invite me,” Tasha mumbled softly.
After a few more minutes of awkward conversation, Tasha closed her notebook and slid it into her bag. We disposed of our trash and headed out into the California sun. I hadn’t really been looking forward to the pep rally, but that was changing. Tasha was a good friend. I was learning to be friends with a woman without always trying for more.
~Kayla Thomson~
Wednesday September 10, 2025
The Composition I classroom was filling up early when I arrived for my 1:30PM class. A few people were scattered around, some typing on laptops while others wrote in notebooks. Backpack on and purse over my shoulder, I caught up with my Slut-sisters in our usual spot near the middle.
Lexi was scrolling on her phone with her bag on the floor, not even pretending to prepare for the class. Ashley sat beside the redhead, turned halfway in her chair to talk with Marcia behind her. Marcia’s notebook was already open, pen in hand, as if she were waiting anxiously for the class to start.
I slid into the seat beside Marcia and set my bag down. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Marcia replied.
“There you are!” Ashley exclaimed. “I was asking why they have a writing class after lunch? I don’t wanna use my brain now.”
“You never use your brain,” Lexi grunted without looking up.
“I use it selectively,” Ashley shot back. “I’m pretty good at math.”
“Keeping track of your body count isn’t math,” Lexi replied.
“Sure, it is,” Ashley shrugged. “Counting is math.”
“Did I miss anything?” I interrupted.
“Just Ashley complaining,” Lexi spoke up.
“I wasn’t complaining,” the blonde bombshell countered. “I just don’t like how long these writing assignments take. I have an active and important social life.”
“Finding time to get railed isn’t a social life,” Lexi teased.
“You know damn well I pledged DTX just like you,” Ashley said. “We have a pep rally Friday and I am NOT going to be saddled with a pointless essay for the weekend.”
“You made me pledge,” Lexi grumbled.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Ashley waved her off before turning to Marcia and me. “Are you two going?”
“Probably,” I answered with a shrug.
“I guess,” Marcia shrugged. “I don’t have anything for honor society.”
“Are you bringing your friend? Lina?” I asked Marcia.
“Yeah, probably,” Marcia nodded.
“And I’ll make sure Derek comes, too,” Ashley nodded. “Josh’s roommate needs to loosen up. We need to get him laid.”
“Fine, bend over,” Lexi shrugged.
“Maybe I will,” Ashley tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “That a problem?”
“Nope,” Lexi chirped. “Hang a sign on your door inviting every guy on campus to take a turn for all I care.”
“We’re not talking about your weekend, Lexi,” Ashley rolled her eyes.
“Steven’s the only guy who gets a piece of this,” the redhead gestured to herself. “Jealous? I have the best guy in the world.”
“Steven’s great, but I have Josh,” Ashley argued. “I just wish we had more alone time. Love is awesome.”
“Oooh, the ‘L’ word?” Lexi looked at the blonde seriously. “If you two are gonna last after all, maybe you shouldn’t spread ‘em for Derek.”
“We’re still working out the exact parameters of our relationship,” Ashley blushed slightly.
“Still keeping Marcia away from him?” Lexi smirked. “Afraid our quiet nerd will steal him from you?”
“Okay, that’s enough, children,” Marcia chastised when her name came up.
“Yes, mom,” Ashley and Lexi spoke at the same time.
Professor Carla Mendoza stepped into the classroom a few minutes later, setting her bag down on the desk and glancing around the room like she was taking attendance without calling names.
“Alright,” the professor began, “Let’s keep this simple. I’m going to go over some literary techniques, then you’ll start an essay for Monday. The topic is quite simple; write three pages about a time your expectations of someone changed.”
A few people groaned quietly, and Ashley glared angrily at the professor. We all, however, prepared to start taking notes. There was a brief lecture covering some of the common mistakes she had noticed in our previous works and how to avoid them. Then we were given the rest of the class to start our essay and ask questions.
I wrote the first line without thinking, the words coming out automatically as something easy and safe. Then I stopped as I read back what I wrote. It wasn’t right. Sure, it would satisfy the assignment, but it wasn’t what really came to mind when Professor Mendoza gave us the prompt.
Pages were filling up all around me. Ashley leaned over her notebook like she was trying to finish the assignment during class so it wouldn’t take up any of her weekend. Marcia wrote steadily and with no hesitation; she had probably figured it out before the professor fully gave the prompt. Even Lexi was working steadily.
I knew what my answer should be, but I wasn’t willing to share something so personal for a college assignment. David had been my first love, my first everything. I had expected a halfway decent human being; not a monster. Instead of writing about my ex-boyfriend, I chose something simple. Something with no substance that would fulfill the requirements.
~Steven Thomson~
Wednesday September 10, 2025
Music filled the master bedroom Wednesday night, a slow and sensual rhythm accompanied by a strong female voice. The song focused on the early stages of a relationship; when the two people were always pining for each other while apart. The large bedroom was only illuminated by a couple of candles placed on the bedside tables.
The flickering flames sent cascading shadows across Lexi’s bare back as she rode me in reverse cowgirl. My fingers trailed along her soft skin as my eyes admired the smattering of freckles across her pale frame. Lexi was riding me to the music; her young body undulating as she whispered the lyrics under her breath.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” I husked, playfully swatting her freckled, heart-shaped bottom.
“Fuck, you’re big,” Lexi groaned back, her hands flying to her chest so she could play with her tits. “You’re so deep! Oh God, I can feel your cock stretching me, throbbing inside me.”
“You feel so good, Lexi,” I whispered, holding her hips as she rolled them in my lap. “I love your tight pussy.”
The song ended and was immediately followed by another by the same artist. It was a slow-tempo one with lyrics about a fleeting romance that was doomed to fail. While the relationship was doomed to fail, it focused on enjoying the passionate, temporary connection.
Lexi gathered up her hair in one hand as she ground down against me, her breathing growing more and more ragged. Her other hand tugged on a nipple, causing her to gasp. Then she released her hair and slapped a hand between her legs so she could start rubbing her clit.
“Ah! Ah! I’m close, ah! Oh fuck, oh God, ah!” Lexi moaned, her body tensing.
“Cum for me, baby,” I encouraged, my fingertips dancing along her pale skin. “Cum for me.”
“Oh God, Oh Steven!” Lexi cried out, tossing her head back as she shuddered and came. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“How was that?” I asked when she came down from her orgasm.
The redhead surprised me with a complicated maneuver where she spun around while keeping my dick inside her. I was treated to the sight of a full-frontal of the beautiful, young woman. She smirked down at me as she placed her hands on my chest and started bouncing in my lap.
“So. Fucking. Good,” she punctuated each word with a rough bounce. “I love your cock. It’s the only one I want for the rest of my life.”
“It’s all yours, Lexi,” I assured, her sliding my hands up her body to hold her boobs. “All yours.”
“Mm, I want your cum,” Lexi cooed, placing her hands over mine. “I wanna make that big dick shoot off for me. I want every fucking drop.”
“Where do you want it?” I asked, bucking my hips and slamming myself balls-deep.
“Oh fuck, yes!” she cried out passionately. Then she grabbed my right hand and put my index finger to her lips. “Here, Steven. I want you to cum here.”
Lexi slipped my index finger into her mouth, her green eyes rolling to meet mine as she started sucking on it as if it were a cock. I pushed another finger between her lips, feeling her tongue press against them as she squeezed my dick with her strong vaginal muscles. I was close. Very close. She felt so good.
“When I cum I don’t want you to swallow,” I grunted, pulling my fingers out of her mouth and holding her little face. “I wanna see my cum in your little mouth.”
“Yes! Yes, sir!” Lexi moaned passionately, her love tunnel constricting as she had another orgasm. “Oh God, fill my slutty mouth! Please, baby! Fuck, oh shit! Ah! Cum, ah, in my mouth!”
“Gonna cum!” I hissed through clenched teeth, trying to hold back my release. “Lexi!”
“I’ve got you, baby,” Lexi lifted her pussy off of me and knelt beside me, taking me into her mouth.
“That’s it, suck it!” I hissed, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling her mouth up and down my length. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”
“Glug! Glug! Gak! Hurk! Glug!” Lexi gurgled as she fingered herself while blowing me.
“Lexi!” I gasped, bucking my hips.
My balls hit her cheek as the first spurt went straight down her throat. Lexi pulled back, her tongue swirling as she sucked and swallowed. Once she just had my tip between her lips, the fiery redhead was able to gather the last of my load in her mouth without swallowing.
Swirling my cum around with her tongue, Lexi pulled off me and gaped her mouth. A thick strand of semen connected her tongue with the roof of her mouth. “Ah!”
“That’s so hot,” I said breathlessly.
Closing her mouth, Lexi tilted her head back and swallowed like she was taking a shot of alcohol. “Fuck, I love your cum. I think I’m addicted.”
“I’ll find you a cum drinker’s anonymous group in the morning,” I chuckled.
“Fuck that,” Lexi chirped, pausing the music on her phone and snuggling up next to me. “You’ll just have to keep feeding me sperm for the rest of our lives.”
“I will do my best,” I promised, reaching down to squeeze her butt.
“So, how was nailing a sorority girl?” the redhead giggled.
“You’re still a pledge from what I hear,” I kissed her forehead.
“For now,” Lexi shrugged. “Who could turn down a sexy redhead?”
“No one sane,” I replied quickly.
“Mm,” Lexi hummed happily as she ran her fingers through my chest hair. “You could come to the pep rally if you wanted.”
“So the kids can watch an old guy throw his back out?” I asked with an arched brow.
“I’ll just jump on it after,” Lexi reasoned.
“What?” I frowned in confusion.
“That thing where someone walks on your back to crack it or something. That’s a thing, right?” she questioned.
“Maybe if you know what you’re doing,” I answered. “You’d put me in the hospital.”
“I’ll give you sponge baths,” Lexi offered with a grin.
“Thanks,” I laughed, running my thumb along her cheek. “Does it bother you that you can’t bring your boyfriend to events?”
“We’ve talked about this,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m fine that you don’t think it’s appropriate for you to go. I get it. Really. I thought about it today, actually.”
“Is that so?” I asked.
“Yeah, Public Speaking,” Lexi nodded. “We had to explain what makes someone trustworthy.”
“Okay...” I trailed off.
“It made me think more about how we got together,” the redhead continued. “Sure, it was cool that you ate me out when no other guy would, but was that really what made me fall for you? I don’t think so.”
“What do you think it was?” I wondered.
“You didn’t take advantage of me when you could have,” Lexi explained. “I was a vulnerable eighteen-year-old girl. You could have turned into another Keith if you’d wanted to. The thought never crossed your mind. You have power and you don’t use it to hurt people.”
“I’d never intentionally hurt you,” I assured her.
“I know, that’s my point,” Lexi pecked my cheek. “You could have abused me for fun, given me to your friends, done depraved things to me for a laugh. You didn’t. You see what a person is when they know they can do something wrong and get away with it.”
“I never really thought of it that way,” I sighed. “It is why most people would disapprove of our relationship. I have all the experience, the money. I could take advantage of you.”
“Well, you didn’t and you won’t,” she stated primly. “That makes us good for each other.”
“I’d say it does,” I readily agreed.
“Now,” Lexi clapped her hands once as she sat up, “how about I get you hard for another round? I need a hard dick up my ass.”
~Kayla Thomson~
Thursday September 11, 2025
Tuesday and Thursday mornings always felt a little slower. I got to start slightly later in the day, but I was groggy without cheer practice to get my heart rate up. I’d worked out and gone for a quick run when I woke up, and while it was better than nothing, it wasn’t the same as a two-and-a-half hour practice.
I arrived at Introduction to Criminal Justice twenty minutes early, noticing the room was mostly empty. Professor Quinn was standing near the podium while a few students were at the back of the room. They were flipping through notes or scrolling on their phones; one person appeared to be asleep.
“Good morning, Miss Thomson,” Professor Quinn said with a friendly smile.
“Good morning, Professor,” I replied politely as I approached him. “How’s Violet?”
“Still angry, thanks for asking,” he chuckled. “Thank your father again for me. I appreciate him making sure she got home safe.”
“I’ll tell him,” I promised, turning to leave.
“Miss Thomson? One other thing,” Professor Quinn called out.
“Yes?” I faced him.
“I know it’s a little early in the semester, but you should think about setting up an appointment with me as your advisor,” he told me. “We never had an initial meeting since you selected your major so close to the start of classes.”
“Oh! Okay,” I nodded quickly. “I’ll set something up soon.”
“Sounds good,” Professor Quinn smiled.
Sliding into my usual seat, I took out what I needed and slid my backpack under the seat. Crossing my legs, I waited patiently for class to start. Students slowly started filing in, some waiting until the very last minute to show up. Professor Quinn started the class right on time.
The class was about the procedure for building a case; evidence, statements, timelines. We learned that everything had to line up, not just in facts, but in how it was presented. Facts mattered, but how they were presented mattered just as much. If not more.
I took notes automatically, not needing to think as we went through important terms. Credibility, consistency, corroboration. I had heard those words before; on television and in books. Learning the legal definitions was very informative. Unfortunately, my focus didn’t last.
Professor Quinn started talking about how and why testimonies changed, which was fine. What I struggled with was the brief overview of deals being made. My mind jumped to the trial as I wondered if deals would be offered. Then I went back to the changing testimonies topic; would people call me a liar? Would a jury not believe me?
By the time class ended, I wasn’t sure how much of it I’d actually absorbed.
I was hit by noise the moment I stepped into the hallway after class: voices layered over each other, people moving in both directions, backpacks slung over shoulders and faces buried in phones. I adjusted the strap of my bag and started toward the stairs, merging with the flow of bodies without really thinking about it.
“Kayla,” a male voice said in a carrying whisper I somehow managed to hear over all the noise.
“Yeah?” I turned to see Drew Kensington weaving through the crowd like it didn’t exist. “Oh, hey.”
“Hey,” he caught up to me easily, matching my pace as we walked down the hall. “How was class?”
“Fine,” I shrugged. “Same as usual. How are you?”
“I’m good, I’m good,” Drew nodded once. “You going tomorrow?”
“The pep rally?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he confirmed.
“All the cheerleaders are going,” I answered slowly.
“Sure, but I wanted to ask,” Drew explained as we exited the building. “You could have other plans. Another party, a date, I don’t know.”
“Nah, no parties,” I shook my head, my raven ponytail bobbing in the air. “And I haven’t had a date in a long time.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he replied. He wasn’t smiling.
“I guess I haven’t really had time for dating,” I shrugged helplessly.
“Ah,” he looked slightly annoyed. “Perhaps that will change for the right guy.”
“I don’t know, maybe,” I said politely.
Drew just looked at me. “I’ll see you at the pep rally.”
It wasn’t a question.
I just nodded as he turned and disappeared into the crowd. I stood in front of the building for a few moments, watching the path he had taken. Letting out a long breath, I turned and started down the street that would take me to my statistics class.
~Ashley Bartlett~
Thursday September 11, 2025
“Today we’re going to talk about attraction and relationship dynamics,” Professor Valerie Chen said at the start of Introduction to Psychology.
I wasn’t even trying to pay attention. Not because I didn’t want to; I just couldn’t get my brain to focus. Something about the way Professor Chen talked made everything sound more complicated than it was. So far the class hadn’t been difficult, but I’d learned more from reading the material than from lectures.