Chapter 2

The first thing I felt when I got home was actually guilt. When I walked inside, all previous feelings of elation melted away to welcome yet guilty thoughts of May, and the idea that if I was so ready to jump on Nicole's breasts and suck on them like my life depended on it, then perhaps I wasn't so enamored with May as I had previously thought.

A small part of my mind was trying to tell me that it didn't matter. After all, the last time May even looked in my general direction was Monday, so she obviously didn't like me, so nothing would happen. Besides, I got to see Nicole's boobs of all things! They were amazing in every sense of the word, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let that be the last time I would play with them.

"Hey, sweetie." mom called from across the house as I took off my shoes. I walked into her office, and waved cheerfully.

She had her headphones on, but took them off as I entered. "How is my special boy?" she asked warmly.

"Fine, thanks." I answered her. "How was your day?"

"Oh, this and that." she sighed. "You know, work."'

I nodded sympathetically, and she put her headphones back on. I went up stairs to my room and threw my backpack on the floor, collapsing onto my bed.

As soon as I hit the bed, my phone vibrated through my pocket. I took it out to find I had a new message.

Hey there stud. Surprised?

I had no doubt it was Nicole, but I wanted to play it safe.

Depends! Who is this?

I sent the text and lay back on my bed, continuing the battle in my mind between May and Nicole. When I checked my phone after it went off again, the battle was won and no doubt was left in my mind.

The first message I saw was a picture message, more specifically of the same boobs I was worshipping only minutes before. Her tits were unique - The way her beautiful nipples stood out so far, paired up with how large her areolae were, which was one of my turn-ons, made her breasts one of a kind. Or I guess two of a kind in this instance.

The sight of them, even after the fact, made me stand to attention immediately, in more ways than one. The curve and shape of her breasts was just indescribable. They were the pinnacle, the ideal example of what beautiful, sexy boobs should look like.

I see someone needs a reminder ;) appeared on my phone seconds after the picture. Even through the phone, Nicole knew how to make me hard.

U are so ... not shy! I replied.

Who, lil' old me? She contested me.

If ur going to send me pictures like this, I may just want to save them. Is that ok? I texted her. She may not have been shy, but I still needed to make sure she was okay with that sort of thing.

Not yet. came the reply. I figured that was fair. After all, I only met her today. It was probably best to wait anyway. After all, she may come to regret this tomorrow. Maybe she was regretting it right now. Maybe I shouldn't get my hopes up. I was still a nobody, after all. I couldn't expect to-

Bzzt! My phone went off, taking me away from my world of self-pity. I looked down to see the message Nicole sent me, which made my jaw fall to the ground. It was another picture, this one a full-body mirror selfie. Her hair was done up beautifully, as if she was going to a dance, and not only framed her face perfectly, but also accentuated her full, beautiful boobs, which of course were on full display without the burden of any clothes. She had her back arched to do the impossible and make them seem even larger, also showing off her toned stomach, which was just as tanned as her face. It was something I never had the time to appreciate in the car.

My eyebrows went higher and higher and my eyes went lower and lower. The only thing she was wearing in the picture was a pair of black panties, and it certainly didn't leave much to the imagination. Her hips were cocked in a teasing manner, and while they were more narrow than I preferred, the girl somehow managed to pull the look off. Her smooth, tanned legs had this hypnotizing way of drawing my eyes to its center, and as I started to unzip my pants, I found myself wishing she had her panties off in the picture so I could see her pussy.

Now you can. I just figured you'd want the full set ;) came the next message from her. A small smile crept on my face. God damn, she was something else. Realizing how unfair this situation must be for her, I replied.

Do u want anything from me? I asked, realizing only after I sent the message just how uncomfortable I was with sending a picture of myself in any way. Uh oh, I thought to myself. There was no way I'd feel okay with sending a selfie, particularly a nude one, to anyone, and here I was offering it up like an idiot.

What, and spoil the surprise when I get to see it in person? Hell no! came the reply. I breathed a sigh of relief. Granted, Nicole was a bit fast-paced for me, and I think she enjoyed shocking and teasing me, but at the same time, there was something about her that made me smile. I didn't know what it was, but I just found I was enjoying the fact that she talked to me, even though it was pretty much just sex.

You* Another message from her. Oh, great. I half-chuckled and half-groaned when I saw that she was one of THOSE people. Well, hey, if Weird Al was one of those people, how bad could it be?

I figured the topic of sex had passed, and plus, I wanted to get to know the girl if I was going to be glued to her chest for the year. I grabbed my phone and started typing. Well, what are you up to? I responded. As I waited for her reply, I lay back on my bed and smiled. It may sound pitiful to say, but it's what I was thinking - this must be what having a friend felt like, and I enjoyed it.

Over the weekend, I texted Nicole whenever I wasn't doing homework. It's not like there was much else to do, but I wasn't complaining, especially since she always seemed all too happy to answer. In the back of my mind, I wondered if she was lonely too.

I could tell she wasn't dainty and delicate when I met her, but over the weekend I learned that she was definitely a 'One of the Guys' type. She didn't really care for stereotypical girl things - she was perfectly fine staying home playing video games, if she didn't have homework to do. She took school very seriously, since she had two older brothers, and one was a high school dropout who never really got anywhere in life. She didn't really want to talk about him, so I left that subject alone.

Her being serious about her education was where she got her anal tendencies about grammar, but she also loved the other side of school. She tried to get in as many clubs as possible and get involved, and she told me she was even thinking of trying out for the school play this year. Naturally, though, her one love was photography. She made no point of hiding her excitement when she told me that she wanted to be a cinematographer when she got out of high school. Seeing her all giddy like that, even over text, was cute, which kind of warmed my heart. When I met her, she was bold, kind of easy, and that's all I knew. Now she had flaws and strengths, and had her own distinct personality, which I liked. I felt like I was more than just a fuck buddy to her. I was becoming her friend.

Did I like her though? I had no clue. I couldn't feel it in my head, but in my heart I knew there was a clear difference between May and Nicole to me. Nicole was great to talk to, and less shy than a kitten on Ritalin. Not to mention she was the one girl whom I couldn't actually stop staring at, chest-wise, and in response she lets me not only see them, but play with them. You don't meet a girl like that everyday.

Compared to Nicole, I actually knew very little about May. But that's what made her so much more ... interesting to me No, more than that, captivating. Nicole literally let me see her half-naked within 30 minutes of meeting me. May seemed like this innocent, precious flower that I just wanted to admire, and possibly hold. And I wanted to make her happy, because she made me feel happy, just by standing there, or talking to me with that angelic voice. Nicole frankly just couldn't really do that to me, at least not yet.

Only time could tell what'll happen, I thought to myself as I locked those thoughts away. I shouldn't get too ahead of myself. Whatever the future holds, I may not be ready for it, but it sure is better sitting inside during middle school recess wishing I was someone else.

When Monday morning rolled around, the thing to wake me up was not my alarm clock but the buzz of my phone. I don't get how one week, I could sleep through a blaring alarm and the next, be woken up by a faint buzzing, but there you go.

Still half-asleep, I lazily took my phone to see why it woke me up. As if I should have expected anything else, it was Nicole. She had sent me a picture of her cheerfully waving, fully clothed (although needless to say, she looked fantastic in a button-up vest) with the caption Morning! Want a ride?

I dismissed the possibility of there being a double entendre and replied, Sure! When do you want me to be ready? Over the weekend, she managed to make me use 'you' instead of 'u.' I figured it was best not to argue with her. I couldn't imagine it, but seeing her irritated and forceful (more so than she naturally was) was a bone-chilling thought.

7:30. Seven freaking thirty? I glanced at the clock. It was 7:00, sharp. I groaned and shifted my head on the pillow, my body fighting with the idea of getting out of bed before I absolutely needed to, when my phone buzzed again.

Don't groan at me, mister. If you want rides, get used to the fact that I'm a morning person. Oooookay, so now she was psychic too. Come to think of it, in the picture she sent me you could clearly see it was morning by the lighting, but she seemed fully awake. Well, good for her, but I absolutely hated mornings. If it weren't for school, I probably wouldn't ever witness the world before noon.

Groaning all the way, I managed to pull myself out of bed and started to scavenge around my room, looking for a shirt. Good thing I took my showers at night, or my morning routine would be a nightmare.

Fully clothed, I slunk down the stairs and entered the kitchen to see my mother and father at the dinner table, sipping away at their morning coffee.

Dad looked up from the paper he was reading on the table. "He lives!" he exclaimed with fake fright. "My God, Marcia, he lives!"

Mom just smiled patiently at him, something mom generally did with dad's jokes.

"It must be an emergency." dad said, putting down his coffee cup. "Why's Dracula up at this hour?"

"Oh now Timothy, stop it." mom scolded him. "Maybe he's just becoming more responsible for himself!" she nodded at me approvingly.

Well, now I felt bad. Thanks, mom. "Actually, a fellow student offered to give me a ride to school today. I couldn't say no, being the social kind of guy I am." I winked at mom with that last comment.

"Oh." dad said, at a loss for words. That wasn't something I got to see often, so I savored the moment and felt awkward at the same time. "Well, uh ... Alrighty then!"

He looked like he was going to say something else, but no words were coming out of his mouth. Nevertheless, I kept up my expectant gaze at him. "Yeah?" I finally asked him ambiguously.

"I was trying to come up with a joke for that one, but nothing's coming to me. Now get yourself some breakfast, when's he going to be here?"

I figured it was best to just ignore correcting him for now. If my parents knew I was being offered rides to school from a girl, they might get the wrong impression. Or the right one.

"7:30." I replied, getting myself some milk and an apple from the fridge. Are people even supposed to keep apples in fridges? Leave it to my dad...

As I left the kitchen to brush my teeth, I heard my dad talking to my mom behind me. "No, wait, I've got one. What's the name of that car from Knight Rider? You know, the talking one."

"The joke's over, Tim." mom told him.

By the time I was all ready and was out the door, Nicole was already there, sitting in my driveway in her Ford Focus (which was black, of course). I sheepishly waved to her as soon as she saw me, and hopped in the car.

"Sorry." I started. "How long have you been waiting here?"

"A millennium and a half." she said, rolling her eyes. Across the seats, she gave me an awkward hug. "I've been here for two minutes. Chill, alright?"

I only nodded. She gave a small smile, which faded quickly in concentration as she backed out of my driveway.

"So, ready to give your big speech today?" She asked casually as she drove, making small conversation. Oh, shit. I had completely forgotten about it. I felt a sudden twinge of 'panic pain' in my heart, and judging from Nicole's shift in expression I think the color drained from my face.

"Yyyyyup, you totally forgot about it, didn't you?" she asked, a sly smile forming on her lips. "You know, you were so busy talking to me all weekend anyways - you could have easily invited me over. I would have gladly helped you write one." Noticing my silence, she added, "Hell, even I remembered that you needed a speech."

I blinked twice. "You weren't with me in the office ... How do you know I needed a speech?"

"Grade 11." she winked at me and turned back to the road. In my head, I was trying to formulate some kind of speech, some kind of introduction to a speech, some kind of SOMETHING, but absolutely nothing was coming to me.

"When are these speeches again?" I asked her.

"9:30." she replied, eyes forward. "Then right after speech assembly is over, students vote."

God help me.

Even though we got to school around 7:50, the time flew by too fast. Some of her time was spent with me talking about what students listened to and why things like articulation and brevity are important, but it turns out she had something important to get to at 8:10. I guess that was why she went to school so early.

I spent most of my time before class just walking through the hallways. I don't do so well under pressure, and this whole situation was kind of getting to me. I think Nicole noticed; she gave me a hug and told me I'll do well right before she left. For a girl so spontaneous and tomboyish, you'd think she was rugged and smelled like motor oil or men's cologne or something, but her touch was actually really soft and gentle, and she smelled like lilac.

At about 8:50, I gave up wandering the halls. It was really nice to have a friend around, because when I was by myself, I felt nothing but overwhelmed. Not even nervous, just overwhelmed. And to think, it wasn't even November yet...

Quietly, I trudged into Mr. Carrozza's science class and sat down at my desk. I was the only one there besides him, since not a lot of students were exactly his biggest fans. As I sat down, the noise alerted him and he looked up from his desk.

"Ah, young master Watson." He looked pleased to see me, or another living soul. "Can I help you?"

" ... I'm in your class, Mr. Carrozza." I said slowly to him. I wasn't sure if sleep was never kind to him, or if he was just batty. Frankly, it may as well have been a combination of the two.

"Ah yes, so you are." Mr. Carrozza said, looking back down at his paper. "Well, welcome. If you'd like to get a head start, today we'll be looking at cameras and how light is ... Wait a moment..." He slowly looked up from his desk, looking like he had just remembered something. "Adam Watson ... There was something that I wanted to say to you today."

I waited for a few seconds before filling in the blanks for him. "Was it about the election?"

"Ah, yes! The election!" His old, dim eyes light up behind his large frames, and his gaze centered on me. "All students running for elections need to be present in the gymnasium before the assembly."

"Oh, really?" I asked him. "And when should I be there?"

"Nine o' clock." Mr. Carrozza said. "You might as well get down there now."

"Good idea." I said, defeated. I pulled myself out of the chair and began to slink to the gymnasium, leaving my backpack behind. Oh well. At least it would all be over soon.

Because of the school's population, we had to hold assemblies in the gym since the auditorium might be able to fit a fourth of the school in it, tops. I didn't much like it in there. It was big, echoey, and too bright. It made me feel small.

In a structural sense, though, it looked nice. It had fold-out bleachers as well as a big space to begin with, and even a small stage for small school events to take place during assemblies. Like, say, elections.

As I found out when I got there, it was called the 'elections' rather than the 'election' because grade 10 students were also running for a position at this time, so the stage was filled with preppy people, all looking smug and confident. Then there was me.

I took a look around, trying to see if I could adapt to this unfamiliar environment. Around the stage were people I couldn't recognize, most of them wearing polo shirts and using words like 'totally' and 'bro.' Blondie from my drama class was there too. I guess he was one of the candidates.

After standing awkwardly through the morning announcements, it was 9:03 and we were all graced by a powerful new presence in the room, in the form of what looked like a tall grade 12. He had a bit of a goofy-looking grin on his face, ginger hair, and a striped sweater that clung to him with its life.

"What's up, guys?" he began. "It's great to see you all here. My name's Phil, and I'm your student council president. I'm just gonna be going over a few things before we get going here."

In my quietest and squeakiest of voices, I interrupted. "Phil Love?" I asked him.

He stopped his speech and turned to me, his goofy grin reappearing. "That's me, man." He said as he patted me on the shoulder forcefully. "You get extra points for knowing who I am. I've heard you've been doing research." he winked at me and returned to his speech. Do people wink more now in high school than they did before?

"Alright, now I just need to go over a few basics before we begin." he began. "Firstly, I'd like all grade 9 tryouts over here on my left side. Those in grade 10, on my right." We all shifted to accommodate his instructions. "Great. Now, you all in grade 9, you'll be trying out for grade 9 rep. You will be representing the school, helping out at school events, keeping news stuff organized for the school's website and monthly newsletter, and are expected to attend every meeting on Mondays at 3, starting today if you win."

Oh, crap. If these meetings lasted until past 3:30, I definitely couldn't get in.

"10s, you're going to get a bit more responsibility. You're expected to help at events, organize school dances, help us manage our budgets, and take care of advertising so that everyone knows what's going on when. You all will have to maintain an average of at least an average of 70 in all classes to represent the school properly. If any of you don't want this responsibility, you're in the wrong place. Am I clear?"

Everyone nodded their heads, and Phil enthusiastically grinned. "Great. Now it's not all serious stuff. Student council is honestly the greatest thing I ever chose to do here. You're going to have a blast, we'll make sure of it. I've been here for all four years, so take it from me. But to get in, you must win over your people, your classmates, the school. Today, you all will be doing that with speeches that you've spent a good long while preparing, I'm sure."

I swallowed hard.

"Now, I know we're normally supposed to check these speeches of yours, but we decided not to this year, to let you guys feel this is all on you." Phil continued. I breathed a sigh of relief. God was on my side.

"However of course, there are ground rules." he sternly spoke. "First, no profanity, swear words, dirty talk, student council doesn't have room for that. Second, no bashing other candidates. I don't care if he just went up and made a shitty speech - pardon my French - you don't say anything bad about the other folks running. Third, keep it under two minutes. You wanna tell people why they wanna vote for you quick, then stand down while you still have their attention. Don't bore them." He paused to make sure we get it, and was met with a sea of nods.

"Great. You guys are awesome for just trying out, remember that. You're all winners already." Yup, he was a president all right. Filled the cheesy quota and everything. "Feel free to hang around here until the assembly starts and do whatever, but at 9:30 sharp, you're here, at this stage, sitting down on those chairs." He pointed to a corner of the stage where 10 chairs sat. "Alright, are there any questions?"

Naturally, no one had a thing to say, so Phil nodded and went about his duties. Everyone else started practicing or talking to other people, but I just wanted to sit down. I grabbed the closest chair to me, and sat down, putting my head down.

I almost fell asleep, and was snapped out of my trance by the feeling of a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, you okay?" I heard a concerned male voice ask. I looked up to see that two other candidates have ambushed me, with a guy on my left and a girl on my right. Both of them had blond hair, and while hers was draped over her shoulders, his was just past his ears and sort of waved in one direction. The both of them were wearing glasses, and I could tell immediately that they were siblings.

"Oh, I'm fine!" I said with more enthusiasm than was necessary, to prove my point. "I'm just a little sleepy, that's all. Woke up early."

The boy removed his hand from my shoulder and nodded. "Alright, just making sure. I couldn't sleep myself. I'm Matt." he outstretched his hand and I shook it weakly. He gestured towards the girl. "And this here is my little sister Megan."

I shook her hand too. "Oh, so you two know each other?" I joked. Matt smiled.

"I'm trying out for grade 10 rep this year." Matt explained. "I was grade 9 rep last year, so it ought to be easy. Megan's trying to follow in my footsteps."

"So heredity is on her side." I said. Matt shrugged.

"It's a popularity thing, so it couldn't hurt. Besides, with you playing the door-to-door politician, she'll need all the edge she can get." He playfully punched my arm. It actually kind of hurt.

"May the best candidate win." she said softly, speaking for the first time. I guess she didn't talk much. They were dressed like they belonged in a high school setting - he was wearing a blue polo, with sandblasted jeans and a big watch to complete the set. She was wearing a slightly loose knit sweater with what looked like no t-shirt underneath. She wore a short skirt and good-looking shoes, contrasting Matt's worn sneakers. I suddenly felt very self-conscious of the old t-shirt and jeans I had just thrown on this morning. I guess I should have dressed for success.

Matt and I made small talk, with Megan saying barely a word in between, until we looked up and realized that the gym was full of students. Matt checked his watch. 9:32. "Showtime." he said excitedly. Every emotion I felt at that moment contributed to my desire to throw up.

Phil took to the stage and gave the usual cheesy speech about us starting a journey and how great student council is. After he was done, Mr. Scott, our esteemed principal, took to the stage.

Mr. Scott was great if you ask me. On the outside, he was everything you expected in a stereotypical principal - a cheerful expression, grey hair, a tweed jacket, and a big, loud tie to seal the deal. When he spoke, though, he knew exactly what to say and how much. He knew how to talk to students, not talk down to them, something I respected quite a lot. His speech was more to the effect of why we deserve the students' time and how we'll be representing the school, something to keep in mind during the elections. He then took his seat, and Phil called Matt to the podium. I guess grade 10s were going first.

Then lightning struck me. Shit. I remembered I had no speech prepared. Everything started to fade out. I could hear laughter from Matt's speech, but it became more and more faint. Dark thoughts started to swirl around my head. I had absolutely nothing, I was a failure. I was about to go in front of the entire school, perhaps the most shy guy in school, and I had absolutely nothing prepared. How idiotic could I be? The whole school was going to laugh at me. I would disappoint everyone - Nicole, Phil, Mr. Salvador, mom...

I felt a soft touch on my hand that brought me back to reality. I looked to my hand and found Megan's on top of it, her thumb caressing the skin of my hand. "Are you okay?" she whispered, nothing but concern on her face. "You were breathing really hard there..."

Was I? It sure sounded like me. I was nervous as all hell, and just wanted to leave. Or cry. Or both. God, I was a wreck. I smiled at her. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Just nervous."

She took my hand in hers. Her touch was absolutely electric. Her hands were delicate, yet deliberate, and suddenly my smile felt genuine. "I'm nervous too. It's okay." She held my hand and paused before adding, "It'll be over with soon. Might as well go through with it now we're here, hm?"

My smile didn't fade, and I nodded. I let go of her hand reluctantly and turned my attention back to the podium, where Phil was there again thanking all of the grade 10 candidates. How much time had passed?! He then turned his attention to us and introduced us to the crowd. The crowd, mostly the grade nine section, cheered.

"Great." he said enthusiastically. "Now, you may recognize this next girl by her brother, who made that great speech about the tornado and the science lab."

Matt leaned in to me, a smug expression on his face. "I made that part up myself."

"Let's give a warm welcome to our first candidate, Megan Schneider!" Phil lead the clapping as Megan timidly took to the stage. She cleared her throat and began her speech, which wasn't half bad. I couldn't concentrate, however, due to my own nervousness. I think I started breathing heavily again as I debated in my head what I was going to do. I think Matt heard me, and empathy must run in his family or something. Next thing I knew, a hand I guessed was his was rubbing my back reassuringly. "Relax, man." Matt said soothingly. "It's all good." After a bit, the rubbing stopped, but his hand remained on my shoulder. It felt nice to have people in my life who actually cared when I was feeling down. I know I'm sounding like a broken record, but this was the first time in my life someone outside of family was helping me when I was down, and it meant the world to me.

When I looked up, Megan was back in her seat and Phil was at the podium. "I think you're up next, man." Matt said, now both of his hands on my shoulders to support me in getting up.

Sure enough, at that moment I heard Phil say, " ... And when it comes to the issues this guy has done his homework. Here he is, Adam Watson!"

Matt had no shame in standing up and helping me get on my own two feet until he was confident I could walk to the podium myself. My heart was pounding in my chest. My legs felt like they were made of solid lead. I managed to make my way over to the podium and clear my throat as the cheering died down.

But just as it did, one guy declared, more loudly than he should have, "Hey! That's the guy who asked what we want in the school!" I looked down and could only smile in disbelief. It was Carson, the guy from my math class. He definitely already knew who I was, but I guess he thought this could give me a boost.

The result was instantaneous. As if the cheering had never died down, it erupted for a second time, this time louder than the last. I had absolutely no words for the moment. These students, people I had only met a few days ago, were being so selfless and helping me. I was overwhelmed. So much so, that my throat was closing up. I cleared my throat again, in what the audience took as a sign of me beginning my speech.

"Um..." I began. Stellar beginning. I think I really sold it with the 'm' sound. My heart began pounding even harder than others. My nervousness, surprise at everyone's kindness, past stress and lack of preparation were welling up from within me. I could tell, I was going to cry. How lame would that be? Yes sir, vote for the crying dolt. I had to take some edge off. I needed some sort of release, a joke or something.

I breathed once, and again. "My fellow Americans..." I started, earning a chuckle from the crowd. Well, that was it, filled my joke quota. I needed to follow that up with something serious. I passed the mic to my brain as I began to freestyle, not knowing the words coming out of my own mouth.

"The people of this school ... are something special." I began, not knowing why I said that or where it came from. "During my campaign over the last week, I've been asking you what needs fixing, what's wrong with the school. But I'd like to take some time and tell you what's right with it. About a minute ago, I was in that chair, on the verge of a panic attack."