Chapter 8

Tuesday December 26

What the hell? I thought that maybe the shrink’s notes would shed some light on Hailey’s insane choice to kill herself, but it makes even less sense now.

According to the psychologist, Hailey was disappointed by Sondra’s rejection, but was handling it in a healthy way. After the sex tape and being kicked out of the play, she was apparently “withdrawn”, but the shrink coaxed Hailey into talking about it. My name came up of course. But then at the next session she was “doing well.”

In her last session, a day before her suicide, all Hailey could talk about was a video game - Life Is Strange. It’s not like a jumping/shooting type game: it’s more like an interactive story where the player’s decisions affect what happens. The shrink wrote that Hailey had become deeply invested in the characters. The ending requires the player to make some very difficult decision. Hailey spent the whole therapy session dwelling on whether she had made the wrong choice.

So after everything that the poor girl had weathered - after all the shit that people like me had put her through - it was a fucking video game that broke her? It makes no sense.

I’m stopped for dinner on the road home. Juliet texted that “we need to talk” when I get home - I bet she plans to kick me out of the apartment. Maybe I can stay with Mandy ... oh, wait, she hates me now. Is Professor Nathan fucking Welsh, the lecherous sadistic academic fraud, my only friend now?

The assholes at the Lexi Haters’ Club just keep ripping on Hailey more and more. I want all of them dead.

Wednesday December 27

I kept thinking about Desmond’s password list while I drove home. None of his old passwords were any good, but what if they offered some insight into how he chooses passwords? What if I could find a pattern? I have hundreds to work from. By the time I arrived home I scrambled into my bedroom and opened my laptop, blowing off Juliet’s request to “talk” right away.

Desmond did have a sort of formula for creating passwords. After an hour of study and a dozen guesses, I was able to get in to the SteampunkHacker64 account. This had been a seldom-used spare account before Desmond got arrested, but he started using it much more after.

SteampunkHacker64’s emails revealed where the Hailey sex video came from: When the Chi Omicron scandal hit, the police confiscated some computers from the sorority. That included Piper’s computer, the one that I had recorded the sex video on. I had deleted the recording from Piper’s computer, of course, but I didn’t think to completely shred it.

Years later, a friend of Desmond’s who works at a computer forensics lab tipped him off that the confiscated computers would be auctioned off by the police soon, and that one of them had something that would interest him on it. Desmond bought Piper’s computer, restored the deleted video file (mostly), and created the Haters’ Club.

(Note to self: this means the police might have discovered my spyware kit. I need to start using a different package.)

Juliet was no longer in the mood to talk by the time I finished. She’s seriously pissed.

Dr. Welsh just emailed me. He wants to meet for drinks. I’m undecided.

Thursday December 28

Yeah, I hooked up with Dr. Welsh last night - Nate.

I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to when I agreed to drinks, but right now, he’s kinda the only person I can talk to. And as is becoming ever-clearer, I’m a gigantic slut.

At first I was mostly telling him about Hailey, what I’ve learned about her, and how much I miss her. It seems that one of the first things Nate did when he got out of jail yesterday, was to watch the Hailey sex video. He said it looked like we really cared for each other. He also questioned my claim about being straight.

Around our third drinks, Nate told me about his early sexual experiences. His first several times were really bad experiences: neither he nor his girlfriends knew how to deal with his giant cock without pain. Then, at eighteen, he started seeing a twenty-six year old - one with enough experience to teach him how to do it right. After that, panties regularly dropped whenever he walked by.

The sex talk and alcohol had me pretty turned on - enough to put my misgivings aside - so it was time to make a decision. “If I go back to your place with you,” I asked without him volunteering the idea, “I don’t want any games. No bondage or cameras, no boastful stories to the Internet. Just two people enjoying each others’ bodies and company. Are you cool with that?”

“Thats precisely what I want”, Nate said, touching my hand for the first time.

Back at Dr. Welsh’s place we didn’t go straight at it: we had another drink first.

“My sister has major depressive disorder,” he said as he handed me my scotch and soda.

“Did she ever try to kill herself?” I asked.

“No - not that I know of,” he told me. “She’s come close many times over the years. She’s forty-three now.” We relaxed on the couch together.

“The funny thing is, she claims that suicide is at the top of her bucket list,” he mused between sips.

“I don’t get it,” I confessed.

“She says she’s spent so much time wanting to kill herself that it has become one of her life goals,” he explained. “Even when she’s perfectly fine - happy and in control of her life - she thinks of it as something she’s always wanted to do but never gotten around to, like learning to play the piano or visiting Thailand.”

I didn’t know what to say so I just stared for a while.

It was time for me to stop drinking, so I got his pants off and sucked Nate’s dick on the couch while he finished his drink. He had been right about how uncomfortable it was to blow him, but he came just before I was ready to give up. A lot of it ended up on my blouse. He said that I’m the first girl he’s been with since prison, so that’s why it was super easy to get him off. Still, this was the first time since his twenty’s that he came from oral, so I was a little proud.

Nate spent an eternity undressing me, and then another eternity just touching me. Sometimes he would pose me and then go over my body with his hands, as if I were something entirely different in this new position. He studied all of my hickeys and bruises in great detail, sorta like a crime scene investigator, but reverent instead of detached. We didn’t say a word that whole time: his hands and my body said everything we needed to say.

When Nate finally lay on his back and guided me above him, I could tell that I was ready. My vagina had spent all that time preparing: expanding, lubricating, limbering up. It didn’t hurt as I eased backward on top of him, wiggling and pushing his totem pole inside of me, but I did feel stuffed past my limit. It was like someone was trying to shove a whole new extra organ into my belly, which, I guess, was literally true. Even when I knew that he was as deep into me as my body would allow, I tried to push down and take more of him in. That actually hurt a little, but it’s good to know your limits.

The tiniest rocking of my hips seemed to cause great momentous shifting in my insides, but the more I felt it the more I couldn’t get enough. Pretty soon I was genuinely riding him, grunting and huffing with each stroke. My pussy felt goooood! If I moved wrong I was pretty sure I would explode, but it was good! Meanwhile, Nate was just looking at me with what seemed to me to be a proud teacher’s smile. I locked my eyes on his, and he did the same. We had some kind of moment together looking at each others’ faces like that, and boom! I came.