Chapter 9

Mr. Salvador leaned back in his chair, his expression never changing from his attentive glance. "Is that the whole story?" He asked me.

I nodded. "That's all I'm going to say, at least." I added with a weak chuckle. "So what do you think?"

"What do I think?" He repeated, looking at me quizzically. He shrugged. "It's not something I would have done, but I'm also not you." He shifted in his seat, thinking to himself. "Although, you never quite told me anything important."

"I never told you anything important? I told you something that could get me expelled!" I replied in a slightly panicked tone.

He chuckled softly. "But not once did you tell me how you felt about Megan. You told me what happened, but not how it affects you. Your story hinges on how you feel after. If you're suddenly happy with Megan, or if you're miserable with Megan, those are two completely different stories."

I took in what he said and shrugged. "I dunno. I guess I don't really know how to feel about it. It's all happening really fast, and I don't even know if I am to blame, if I was an asshole like Nicole said, or if I should feel like it was all a bunch of bad luck."

Salvador leaned back in his chair and smiled slightly. "You guess you don't know how to feel about it..." He repeated slowly, savoring each word. He didn't say anything more, just rotated back and forth in his rotating chair. In the silence, I started thinking about the words myself, finally linking them back to the weights room and what Nicole said.

Look, I don't know my own feelings right now, okay?

"It's normal to not know your own feelings during a new experience for a teen, isn't it?" I asked him, his point dawning on me.

"For a human." He corrected me with a smile. "You're not an asshole, Adam. You've made some bad decisions, though. Casual sex is the worst one you can make."

"Why? I asked him.

He ignored me. "In time, you'll know how to feel about it. But don't ignore how you feel. That is crucial." He paused, until it became evident that he had nothing left to say. "Did you need to say anything else?"

"Well..." I said, exasperated. "You didn't tell me what to do, or anything..."

"I can't tell you what to do." He said simply. He paused again, before realizing I wouldn't respond. "Will you be alright?"

I sighed. "Yeah." I admitted. "I will."

"Good." He said simply, getting up and walking up to one of his shelves, putting away some paperwork. "Are we done here or is there anything else?"

"Nah, I'm good to go." I answered. "Bye, Mr. Salvador."

Without holding my breath for him to say goodbye back, I left Mr. Salvador's office, not feeling as free as I thought I would, but still feeling strangely satisfied. As I walked down the hallway, something caught my gaze. In the trashcan sat something odd-shaped and green, poking out of the can as if to say hello. It was Paul's mask.

I walked up to the can and picked up the mask. It was of a distorted face, and kind of reminded me of an owl. It had a very straight, vertically long nose, a defined forehead, and was cut off below the nose, presumably so that the actor using it could use their actual mouth to speak.

I wasn't sure if Paul threw it out or not, but it had to be important. I carried it back to Salvador's office and knocked on the door.

"Come in." Salvador's calm voice greeted me again without looking up to even know who it was.

I walked in. "Sorry to disturb you again-"

"Why would you say that?" Mr. Salvador asked me, looking up.

It caught me off guard. "Huh?"

"Do you have something to say?" He asked me.

Hesitantly, I replied. "Yes..."

"Then don't be sorry. Never be sorry unless you have a good reason. You've just invalidated everything you're about to say."

It was too late in the day to even bother arguing. "Okay." I sighed exasperatedly. "Anyway, I found this mask you gave Paul outside. I think he accidentally dropped it." I actually thought he threw it away in disgust, but I didn't want to taint Salvador's image of him. "Should I leave it with you so you can return it to him?"

"I didn't give Paul that mask." Salvador answered simply. "He made it."

"Really?" I asked, looking at the mask again.

He nodded. "It's one of the units in senior drama. You have to make your own mask, then create a scene using that mask."

Wow. That actually seemed really cool. "That's cool!" I replied truthfully. "Either way, he dropped it, so should I leave it with you so that you can return it to him? He'll need it for his scene, after all."

Salvador shook his head. "He won't need it. The mask unit is over. He just happened to have it on him today because I returned them today." He replied. "Don't give it to me, it's no longer mine. If you want to return it to him, you may want to hurry. He'll be leaving soon."

I wasn't sure if that was a polite request for me to leave. I nodded nonetheless. "Okay, will do." I replied. "Thanks!" I left the room, expecting Salvador not to respond. I was correct.

I ran down the hall, wanting to catch Paul before he left. It turns out my running was in vain - I found him in the main hallway sitting on the bench, looking at his phone, frustration on his face.

"Hey." I loudly declared.

He looked up from his phone. "Hola." He replied flatly.

"You okay?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Unnecessary stuff." he replied, putting away his phone. "Doesn't matter. What's up?"

I held up his mask. "I found this in the garbage can. I think you accidentally dropped it or something..."

He laughed. "We both know it wasn't accidental. Feel free to put it back where you found it."

"But I like it." I protested, looking the mask over. "Why would you throw it out?"

"Keep it then." He ordered, going back to his phone. "Salvador says it's badly made. The edges are sharp, it was hastily painted, and apparently there's no defining feature on the face."

"The forehead." I commented out of reflex.

Paul made a gesture. "That's what I said." He commented. "He gave me a 4 out of 10 on it. So I don't want to see it again."

"Does it have a name?" I asked, looking it over.

Paul gave me a weird look. "Are you feeling alright?" He asked me. "What the heck did Megan do to you?"

I could feel myself blushing. He noticed and mischievously smiled. "Yup, I hadn't forgotten." He added coyly. He glanced at the clock. "You waiting for your parents?"

I looked at the clock too. It was well after six. I hadn't texted her yet, but mom would be off work by now. I nodded at Paul and got ready to take out my phone.

"Well then, text them back and tell them not to worry. I'll give you a lift." He said nonchalantly, getting up and moving towards the parking lot. I put my phone in my pocket and followed him, matching him with silence until we got to his car.

"So, I'm guessing you made up with Megan." He suggested as we both got in. I put my face in my hands. I already explained the whole thing to one person, and I was not ready to do it to another.

"Yup," I simply stated. "We sorted out our differences. Now we're together."

"Wow, that was quick." Paul remarked. "You grade nines do move fast. I mean, just last week you were-"

"Sorry, when you offered to give me a lift was it you being kind or was it an excuse to judge me?" I interrupted.

Paul said nothing as he started the car. "Point taken." he admitted. "I apologize."

"I'm sorry too." I mumbled.

"Why?" He asked me.

"I was mean to you when you first gave me a lift, and now I'm being mean again." I said, looking straight ahead. "These last few weeks have just been hell and I've just been really frustrated. I guess I kind of took it out on you."

"No worries." Paul waved me off. "We all have those moments in our life. You've just got to love teen drama, don't you?" He laughed sympathetically.

"I hate it." I said immediately, not even bothering to mirror the humorous nature of his comment.

"Yeah, it would just be better if you could avoid it altogether, wouldn't it?" Paul asked, pulling out of the parking lot.

"No kidding." I agreed.

"Yeah, I mean, life would be so much better if you ... Avoided misunderstandings." Paul suggested. "Were never in an awkward situation. Never had people mad at you. Never been in compromising or vulnerable positions. Avoided dumb people. Never made mistakes. Never got invited to parties. Always did the right thing. Never did drugs or alcohol. Stayed abstinent. Didn't talk to anyone ever. Died alone, without ever really understanding people." A mischievous smile was on his face when he finished.

"What, are you regretting your high school life?" I quipped bitterly.

"Ha ha." He replied sarcastically. "I'm just saying, what you're experiencing right now is real emotion. It feels bad, I know, but it prepares you to be a better person in the future."

"And what if I want to be a better person now?" I asked him. "All of a sudden it's like I'm the bad guy, the asshole. And it's not just now. I feel like I've been the asshole for a while now and couldn't see it. What can I do to change that?"

"I think you already have. In fact, just now." Paul answered. "Ever played Spec Ops: The Line?"

"I don't play video games." I simply answered.

"Oh." Paul simply answered, then smiled. "Wow, you're quite the minority. At any rate, you can still make the changes. You just need to be aware of what you're changing."

At that point, it clued in to me that Paul was going in the wrong direction. And had been for quite a bit. "Um, Paul ... My house is in the other direction." I said hesitantly.

Paul's back stiffened and his eyes widened. "Oh. Crap. Right." He murmured as he slowed down, then pulled into a random driveway. He turned around and started going the other way. "Sorry about that. I've gotten so used to driving home this way I guess I just did it out of reflex."

"It's okay." I said.

"See?" Paul asked, smiling again. "Not an asshole. You're being a bit hard on yourself, man. You're a freaking grade 9. Sorry, you're going to be immature. By grade 12 you'll see just how much it shaped you as a person. And yeah, the only thing that can make you a better person is actually trying to be a better person, but I think you're on that path now."

I nodded, but stayed silent.

"And go ahead and text Nicole if it makes you feel better." Paul added. "Apparently being sad or angry makes you an asshole by your logic. You talk like she made you happy."

"She does." I remarked.

"Then do things that make you happy. You might make mistakes along the way to doing happy things, but you can apologize and learn from those. Doing things you don't love out of obligation then being bitter about it isn't going to make you a better person."

"Weren't you the one who told me not to text her last time I got a ride with you?" I asked him.

"You're talking as if I'm always right." He retaliated. "Besides, that was so you could grow as an individual. If you're going to be sad, it's not worth it. I'd rather you be happy and a little shallow rather than your own miserable person. You can wrk on your individuality in many ways. My suggestion was just one way. But if you find it isn't working, maybe you just need a friend in your life, one you know well, one that makes you feel better. Maybe that's what Nicole provides for you."

The folksy wisdom of the ancient senior rang true as far as I was concerned. I whipped out my cell phone and looked up Nicole in my message history.

Hey. I'm sorry. For everything. I texted her.

But even after Paul dropped me off and said his goodbyes, she didn't answer back.

I was a bit quick to assume I would enjoy classes. As I found out, I really only enjoyed them because I enjoyed life at the time, and had something to look forward to. When I went to classes the next day, a Tuesday, I found that classes were turning dull, fast, and the only thing I had to look forward to was working out for an hour straight at the end of the day, then waiting for my mom to pick me up since Nicole still refused to talk to me. God, I hoped whatever Megan planned to say would work.

That said, I didn't let that show at all in drama class. I didn't even know if Salvador was right about my low energy negatively impacting the class, but the guy sat and listened to his student explain how he felt bad about straight-up fucking another student in an English classroom without judgement. I felt liked I at least owed it to him to adhere to his class' rules in exchange for that.

I don't think he noticed, but I attached Paul's mask to my backpack. More specifically, I asked mom to sew it on when she had a minute. Mom, who loved it when I expressed my individuality, was all too happy to comply, and even remarked how proud she was of me for keeping the mask when I gave her the story behind it. Friends came and went in this new fast-paced life of mine, but my parents were always there for me. Especially in a time like this, I couldn't express in words how grateful I was for that, nor how much I loved them.

Apparently, though, tucking my emotions away in drama class was working. After school, all Salvador did was give me a nod, then looked back to his clipboard.

Getting out of the mentality of drama and into the mentality of working out, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and walked out of the aud. Each step felt heavy, but I expected it would feel that way until things got better. My mind grew hopeful as I pictured Nicole, waiting for me outside of the weights room, smiling at me and saying, "Sorry, squirt. Let's just put this behind us." I would forgive her, we'd hug, she'd push me away yet wink at me, it would be like nothing ever happened.

"Adam! Yo, Adam!"

A voice calling my name broke me out of my daydream. Pausing mid-step, I turned around to see Blondie, the popular kid from drama class.

"Hey!" I replied casually, yet confused, watching him approach me as people walked around us, waiting for him to state his purpose.

"I never gave you my name. Dylan Swanson." He held out his fist. I reluctantly bumped it.

"Yeah, you tried out for the council too, right?" I asked, then realized it sounded like I was rubbing it in his face that I got in and he didn't.

He shrugged. "Real talk, I didn't even wanna. My brother's on council and wanted me to try out."

"Really?" I asked, half with fake interest and half with genuine interest. "Who's that?"

"Jeff Swanson, the VP." he replied. I would never have guessed that guy and Dylan were related. While Dylan was a slightly muscular, slightly lean popular-looking kid with blonde hair, Jeff was kind of pudgy, looked and dressed like a nerd, and had brown hair.

"I see." I commented, not knowing where the conversation was going. "So what do you need?"

"Well, I heard through him what you did with Megan and May..."

Of course. A freaking week later and I couldn't even escape it, not even from people who weren't even indirectly related to the event. Cringing on the inside, I prepared for the worst as Dylan finished his sentence.

" ... And it was totally sick, bro!" He said, holding out his fist again.

"Excuse me?!" I asked in disbelief, ignoring his fist.

"You, like, totally put May in her place! I think she's frigid anyway. Plus, you're a stone cold playa!" Dylan replied enthusiastically. "Massive respect for that. Especially since, no offense, you were a total nerd a few months ago."

"Yeah, things change quickly." I admitted.

"Anyway, I totally dig your style, man." He continued. Did people after the '90s even say 'dig' anymore? "I wanna invite you to this party I'm throwing on Friday. You down?"

"You're seriously inviting me to a party because I got involved with multiple girls?" I asked him.

He looked at me as if it was obvious. "Yeah, man! It was freakin' hilarious! You got them good."

"I was a dick." I admitted.

"Naw, man. Look, does Megan still hate you?"

"No." I be grudgingly answered.

"Does May?"

I paused. "I don't know." I answered.

"Then you're all good!" He protested. "No feelings are hurt, and what you did was a freakin' riot. C'mon, it'll be awesome."

"Alright, if you want me there I'll go." I caved. "But I've never been to a party before."

"Yeah, I kind of got that impression." He retaliated. "What's your phone number? I'll text you the time and address."

I gave him my phone number and he pulled out his phone, nodding enthusiastically as he typed my number into his phone. "Sweet." He commented, then looked up at me with a goofy grin on his face. "See you there!"

"Yeah, see you." I mumbled, trying to process what had just happened. Did being an asshole just make me popular? No wonder jocks are vilified in movies. But being invited to a party ... I have never been invited to one of those. While I didn't quite know what to expect, I did have a general idea of what would go down. As I kept walking towards the weights room, I debated in my mind if it was really worth it. I just about approached the door as I felt a buzz in my pocket.

I stopped and pulled out my phone to see I had a new text message from Megan. heyyy

Hey there. :) I answered before opening the door. I sighed to myself, the empty room echoing my sigh back to me.

whats up? Megan texted me back.

Not a lot. I shot back before thinking if I should tell her about the party. Given that a lot of my problems in the past stemmed from either keeping the full story to myself or being misunderstood, my sudden sense of caution won. Dylan Swanson invited me to come to a party with him. You want to come with me?

Aweeeee id love to!! <3 :) :) was her response. Well, it certainly was an improvement from everyone getting mad at me, I thought to myself as I took off my sweater and started stretching, getting ready for my first set.

Of course, the universe sometimes has other plans. The day Dylan set for the party turned out to be the one day Megan couldn't make it. Given the nature of what goes on at parties, it was scheduled to be Friday night, which I'm amazed Megan didn't see coming. However, I made it up to Megan by ditching my Thursday workout with her to hang around town with her.

She was a great girl and I won't lie, the sex was amazing when we got the chance, but it was painfully obvious we weren't right for each other. As we walked throughout the town, we tried to chat, but we could never find a topic both of us were interested in. We tried to be more vague with topics, but that either made the conversation end quickly or bored us to the point where we wished the conversation would end quickly.

Eventually, we settled for a hike in the forest, something I was not shy about never enjoying. Nevertheless, by the hand Megan dragged a very reluctant me into the woods where we just walked around for a bit.

"Aren't you having fun?" She eventually asked me.

I laughed aloud. "Of course I'm not. I already said I don't like hikes." I answered. "Plus there's something about hiking in winter. It's just ... nasty. The trees are dead, there's no nature, and everything is dirty and slushy."

Megan thought back to one of our earlier conversations. "I thought you said you liked hiking in winter."

Well, it good to know that she almost listened. "I like going outside in winter." I clarified. "But not hike. Hiking, I have to experience the downsides. The deadness, the dirt, the work. But just going outside and taking it in is something else. Winter's got this vibrant energy that you have to stop and feel. Hiking is too much work to really feel that energy."

She nodded. "Okay." She said, which was her universal equivalent for 'In through one ear, out the other.' "But this hike is different, right?"

I thought about what she was getting at. "This hike isn't really that different. I'm still not enjoying myself, if I can be frank."

Megan pouted, half playfully. "But I'm here with you. Shouldn't that make it better?"

I paused, wondering how I was going to phrase this. As I did, I noticed a few large, flat rocks in an open area. "Care to sit down?" I asked, gesturing to the rocks. She complied, and I sat down next to her, exhaling before I began rambling.

"Megan, make no mistake, this whole relationship thing is one-sided. It's for you. We can't find anything to talk about. You dragged me on a hike figuring I'd enjoy it even when I said I wouldn't, just because we're together. But you're forgetting that we're together because that's purely what you want. Just because the title of 'boyfriend' is there doesn't make it any more special in itself. A relationship isn't defined by its title, it's defined by the feelings that come from it."

"I know." She pouted for real this time. "But I feel like since it's official it should feel more official. Like it should mean more when it's in the open. It feels more real to me."

I sighed, but smiled at her. "It may feel more real for me in time, it may not." I pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. "But for now, please accept that I'm just doing this for you, and that just because you want a perfect moment or a perfect relationship doesn't mean the universe is just going to give you one, even after you get a 'boyfriend.'"

"Okay." She admitted defeat. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I responded instinctively. "You didn't do anything wrong. I just figured if we're in a relationship now, I should tell you how I feel from time to time." I winked at her and she giggled. Silence followed as we just stared ahead, not saying a word.

"What the fuck is even going on?" I asked out of exasperation, putting my face in my hands.

"What do you mean?" Megan asked me.

"I know there's stories of couples that are obviously one-sided, but they stick together for the sentiment or because one person can't function without the other. But we're not even being freaking subtle about it." I observed, earning another giggle from Megan.

"I think you need me too." Megan replied, trying to be thoughtful. "You just don't know it yet."

Yeah, no. Definitely not. I nodded out of politeness, but nothing could be further from the truth. I definitely could live without Megan in my life, even though she as a friend was really cool. In retrospect, though, I will admit she helped me get over the fact that Nicole was basically no longer a part of my life, but then again, she pretty well orchestrated that. If I were more paranoid, I might even have thought that Megan had a hand in the whole thing, knowing exactly how I'd respond to holding hands after the blowjob, seemingly knowing Nicole and our relationship well enough to know how she'd respond, observing my crush on May, and timing everything exactly right so that every other aspect of my life would crumble like a stack of falling dominoes, Nicole would leave me for Phil and I'd fall right into her hands out of desperation...

... Yeah, maybe not. That was giving any human being, let alone Megan, way too much credit. Not even Nicole could pull that off.

"Plus," Megan added, her hand traveling up my leg. "I think it's safe to say that our agreement is definitely not one-sided." She grinned mischievously as her hand went up and down on my crotch.

"Here?" I asked, looking around.

She shrugged. "Why not? There's no one around. Plus, it sounds like you need me to remind you why you stick with me."

I had to laugh internally at that comment. This relationship was not for me. That was painfully obvious. Megan, as far as I could see, wasn't even interested in me specifically, which only became more obvious as she came more and more out of her shell. She wanted to be in a relationship, pure and simple. She wanted a physical boyfriend, and to have feelings, but she didn't know how. She wanted to possess and live out some kind of Disney fairy tale, not share time and feelings. The word 'share' wasn't even in her consideration, and she knew it too. Still, I kept my mouth closed for two reasons. Number one, in the wake of pretty much everything else that had happened, I was trying to be as kind as I could be, and this would definitely rock the boat. Two, Megan was making a move on me, and knowing her, I'd want to see how this would play out.

Without another word, smiling slightly, I went straight for Megan's neck, something I found out was her sensitive spot. I started by gently kissing her neck, but quickly evolved to licking and eventually sucking. She responded with short gasps of air and a hand supporting the back of my head. Her hands were frozen in place, not daring to move, as if in fear that these sensations would stop the moment she moved. Quickly, though, my mouth got bored of one place and my hands travelled to her B cup breasts, moving them around before whispering "Let me see them," into her ear.

Quickly, she obliged. I moved enough away from her to allow her enough space to take off her shirt and bra. Used to Nicole's quick undressing and lack of bra, I grew impatient and didn't waste time by merely looking at Megan's breasts, latching onto them the second they came into view.

To my knowledge, I actually had not truly sucked Megan's nipples yet, so I made sure to give her the royal treatment. I started delicately, using my tongue to tease her areola. Megan only made soft moans in response, cradling my head, giving slight pushes every now and then in a wordless plea for me to start sucking. However, I held back, switching to the other breast as I continued my delicate efforts, circling each nipple with my tongue. As I did, her nipple grew harder and stiffer, responding to my actions, begging for more. After about a minute of this, I figured she had enough of my teasing and pulled her nipple into my mouth, giving it a hard suck.

Megan moaned, hard, pulling me in even closer to her boob. With my free hand I began caressing her leg as I alternated playing with her nipple in between my teeth, flicking it with my tongue, and using my full mouth to give it a good hard suck. After a bit, I moved to her other nipple and did the same, but I quickly grew bored of only having access to what was above the waist.

As I took my mouth off of her nipple, either Megan read my mind or was as eager as I was, Immediately, she got up and took off her yoga pants and panties, fully casting them aside as she bent over, placing her hands on the cold rock. "T-take me, Adam..." She said timidly.

I'll give Megan this, the cold didn't really seem to bother her. Matching her movements, I dropped my pants and underpants to my ankles in one motion. My dick, fully erect from the earlier foreplay, slapped her on her ass cheek. Realizing what just slapped her, Megan moaned in anticipation.

I didn't allow that anticipation to last long, though. If anything, I was afraid of the possibility of getting caught, and wasted no time. After aligning my dick with Megan's already-wet pussy, I grabbed on to her ass cheeks and pushed myself in with one thrust, earning an "Aie!" of pain from her.

I wasn't drunk with lust this time, and despite going all the way into her with one thrust, I didn't want Megan to hurt, so I gave her time to accommodate. Plus, even though her pussy was wet, I had no lubrication on me going in, so it slightly hurt me too. As she shifted, getting used to me, the time given to me allowed my pain to dissipate, and when the time felt right, I slowly started to pump in and out of Megan's waiting love tunnel.

"Mmmmm..." Megan moaned in appreciation as I started out slowly, savoring the electric feeling that coursed throughout me as my grip on her cute little ass tightened and I began to push in further. As I did so, my thrusts became slower so that we could both really enjoy what we were doing. I leaned forward as I slowly thrust into Megan, kissing my way up her back as I slowly thrust my full self again and again into her.

"Adammmm..." She sensually moaned. Soon, however, she evidently became bored of my slow speed, as she began to pick up speed herself, impaling herself again and again on me.

With an internal laugh, I shrugged and gripped her ass again, thrusting myself fully into her quickly. She rewarded me with a "Mm!" that showed how much she wasn't expecting that. Savoring my victory, I picked up speed, my dick drilling Megan's pussy as I went faster and faster, deeper and deeper.

Megan's juices began to flow, starting to go down her legs as she thrust herself back onto me with as much force as I was using on her. For good measure, I gave her a single spank as I kept going, which caused her to give a groan in a mix of pain and pleasure.

On and on we went, losing track of time as Megan's ass became redder from the cold and occasional spank. Eventually I felt a stirring that became all-too-familiar with me in the past few months, and with one final slam, I let out a breathy groan as I emptied myself into Megan. She moaned at the feel of my seed entering her, and slowly shifted on me, attempting to milk me for all I was worth.

About a minute passed before she slowly removed me from her and started to put on her clothes again.