"In Which Reality is an Unwanted Call to Adventure"

(Pt. 2)

‧ ‧ ‧

September 13

1:25 PM

Hallway, Belle Mont Prep

"You just had to say it," Joule remarks silently as the three of them feast their eyes on the person behind me.

I discreetly rub my temple. "I should've known I smelled straight white male privilege a few lockers away."

Maybe if I say 'Rumpelstiltskin', the curse would be lifted, and he would be sent away. 

Hmm, not a bad idea. I'll probably shelf it for future use.

"Yo, Michaels! I'm talking to you," he calls again, louder this time as if there was a mountain between us instead of a few feet of him standing behind me.

A silent hush soon swallows the entire hallway as some students pretend not to gawk at us while the rest openly stares. Even Joule tucks his phone away to give us his undivided attention.

Fuck it! I'll do it now. Rumpelstiltskin! Rumpelstiltskin!

I stiffly straighten my back and slam my locker with a loud resonating BAM!

I turn and look around, my eyes scanning everywhere but him. "Who's there? I suddenly had a bout of face-blindness concerning sluts."

Aiden narrows his eyes and shoots me an easy smile. "Is it just me or do you just naturally kill a person with those eyes of yours?"

Ugh, just looking at his chiseled model-like features that would melt any unsuspecting girl on the spot in full view, makes me want to punch that disgustingly handsome mug 'til it turns like two spoiled fruits that hate-fucked one another. 

I swallow a loud yawn. "Well, considering you live in a twisted reality that revolves around you, then yeah — it's just you." 

He chuckles at this in his oh-so-patronizing tone, almost like he, 'The Famous One', is doing me a favor by giving me some attention.

"Might I say, you are always a vision of darkness and bloodlust? My God" — he breathes in — "it almost makes me forget how worse your personality really is."

"Too bad, yours doesn't do the same for me either," I fire back with a bored face.

He runs his hand through his dark lustrous hair, tousling it even more to make it look like he just rode in his fucking top-of-the-line Audi that his daddy bought for him (yeah, I'm gonna let you process that info a bit).

His thin maroon waffle shirt rises to reveal a hint of 'spectacular' abs. I could already see Tamieke, Joule, and the other girls salivating from the sight.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need a disinfectant for that," I comment drily in a low tone, not really listening to him.

He takes it as a challenge and leans towards me, his minty breath tickling my nose. "We did have a stake for you and all."

"Ooh, buh-bam!" Dorian — one of his cronies, certified fuckboy, and apparently a hypeman now — hollers behind him with a finger-gun aimed at me.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Did you really think that was a good line, or is that what you do so that cash cow* here pays for your gym membership?"

He tries to come up with a witty –come-back, but I cut him off with my hand. 

"Don't answer that, you obviously do. Buh-bahm!" I finger-gun him.

Dorian backs up, tail tied between his legs and seeking consolation in Aiden's tender-loving arms. (At least, that's how it was supposed to be in a Yaoi *manga).

Aiden casts him a quelling look.

I ignore him and return my attention to Aiden.

I flash him a half-smile. I slide my finger from his neck down to his jacked chest, all the while trying not to gag.

"Also" — I look him up and down — "I don't see why they needed to roast a witch when they can have a couple of uncultured swines" — my finger painfully approaches his v-area and sharply backs up to jab him in the forehead — "or a pair of human factory reject dildos?"

Of course, he would take it as part of the challenge and press his forehead further against my finger like an idiot.

My finger, which was painfully approaching his v-area, slides back up to jab him at the forehead.

Of course, he would take it as a challenge and presses his forehead further against my finger.

"Yeah, well you probably know about that sort of thing, don't you?" he winks at me.

Tamieke pops his tongue, easily catching on to his stupid innuendo.

Tia was ready to speak in my defense if it wasn't for Joule holding her back.

I run my eyes over to Joule's direction and the small shiny gold brooch with the student council's insignia over his argyle vest.

Cool it, Ave. No presidential ass-whooping — for now. I knew I should've keyed his car earlier. 

So what If he's insinuating you're an old maid who can only rely on battery-powered fuck buddies in the middle of the school corridors that can be overheard by a lot of people?

But, his face is so close. I can practically feel his skin against my fists!

Like a Jedi Telepathy,* Joule's voice suddenly rings in my head. Choose your violations wisely, Ave.

"At least it performs better," I manage to reply  —  and with seconds to spare.

He seems to process this over like my clapback* was something novel and unexpected. His thumb strokes his chin as he regards me with a serious expression.

If I didn't know him since freshman year, I would've actually believed he can be capable of being serious.

His lips crack a smile. "We'll see. Friday, then?"

I stare at him disbelievingly. How on earth did he even think that was smooth?

He doesn't wait for my answer and takes my silence as a sign to sidle up closer —  right into my face.

A few gasps escape into the hall as I unceremoniously shove his face away in reflex. "You're crowding me."

Instead of pulling away, he nuzzles my hand with his face, his breath tickling my palm. "It seems I am."

I make a puking noise and pull my hand away. "You're making me want to have an acid bath."

He smirks and grabs my hand. "I don't see why you're fighting it when you can just give in to it."

My face scrunches up. "Give in to, what?" — I tug at my hand — "I can't believe you just quoted a rapist" — another wriggle and I tilt my head — "Oh wait, I do believe it."

"Trust me, babe" — he tightens his grip of my hand and lifts it to his Val Kilmer lips* — "a lot of girls would disagree."

Apparently, this includes restraining them against their will.

His blue eyes are filled with deep promise and the confidence of a seasoned manwhore as his voice takes on a husky note when he says this.

I bite the inside of my cheek and meet his gaze.

"Aww" — I click my tongue, mimicking his raspy tone — "And if I lost my dignity, I might actually join your little fan club. Judging by the size of your hands*, you're better off as rich."

Tamieke makes a gagging noise, clutches his throat. "Oh, the shade of it all!" 

Tia and the others snicker. Even his friends join in. 

Taking him by surprise, I send him a scathing glare before wrenching my hand free from his hold.

He easily snaps out of it. Licking his lips, he sends me a playful smile. Seriously, does this guy ever not act like a douchebag?

"You'll come around," he says, so self-assured that I would succumb to his low-grade form of seduction.

My nose wrinkles in disgust. "Yet, somehow, it sounded more like you're trying to convince yourself than me."

"She got you good, man," Toby, another one of his minions, guffaws as they brush past me and slowly disappear into the crowd.

Like clockwork or a spell broken, the sound of footsteps resume as the hallway becomes filled once more with the hum-drum sounds of side-chatters, like a white noise machine to my ears.

Just then, Emile and Jhett slip through the crowd with a post-awestruck expression plastered on their faces.

"Was that Aiden just now?" Jhett huffs, staring at the direction the slutbags disappeared in.

"You" — Emile vehemently points at me — "what did you do?"

I scoff, my mouth gaping. "What did I do? What did you do?"

"Excuse me?" — he squeaks, he stiffly flips his hair over his shoulder — "Bitch, have you seen yourself in the mirror? I swear if looks can kill — he sweeps his hand across his neck — "you're up for multiple first-degree murders. The only time you don't look like you're about to curse someone into eternal damnation is when you have your back facing them."

"Ooh," — Tamieke exclaims,  lightly tapping his fingers against his other palm — "Miss Thing, filling the library* with filth*."

I softly pat my chest, beaming at Emile with glistening eyes. "That would probably be one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me." 

"Ignore her" — Tia says, covering me with her hands — "how was HG? I thought with the grand time you must be having, you wouldn't be back until much, much later?"

"It was terrible," Jhett pouts, nestling his face in Emile's shoulder.

Tia nods, her lips twitching. "I take it, HG wasn't all it was hyped up to be."

It wasn't a question. It was plain as day from their crestfallen faces that they were anything but hyped.

"No. It turns out it was a fancy word for Sociology," Jhett grumbles, his voice muffled.

Tamieke claps his hand. "Well, at least you learned something."

Emile snaps up from his momentary reverie and glares at him.

"We thought we were gonna learn about the human body, but no-o. It was all about people" — he snaps his fingers — and their communities" — SNAP! — ethnicity — SNAP! — culture — SNAP! and" — he looks down to Jhett — "what was the other one? "

"Uhm, something about economics?" Jhett replies glumly.

Emile snaps his finger again. "Exactly, economies and interactions with the environment. Like, can you believe it? Who cares about that? I can't even understand half of the introductions. It's like being promised a free male penis on a silver platter. Yet, when you open it, what do you get? Nothing" — he spreads his arms — "but an empty silver platter! Like" — his quavers — "is it so much work not to get us too excited for nothing?"

Jhett pulls Emile's handkerchief from his pocket and gives it to Emile.

Emile takes it and blows his nose, while Jhett pats his back.

Kiana fake-gasps. "The nerve!"

Tia stares at them, clearly unmoved. "What I can't believe is you can actually say those words in a whole sentence and still not understand half of what they mean." 

"Watch it, Alex Owens! "* — he points a finger at her — "How was I supposed to know it was more than just the nether regions?" 

"You could've if you actually read the course syllabus," Tia retorts tartly.

"And then, what happened?" I prompt.

Emile fidgets his fingers, avoiding eye contact. "We may, or may not have commented on his cobra when I pointed out a possible body map reference." 

"His cobra?" Tia asks incredulously.

"I know, bad taste" — Jhett sends an I-told-you-so-look in Emile's way — "I told Emile he should've used 'banana' to be more discreet."

Tamieke comforts Jhett with a motherly pat, "There, there, Tildy. We always call it 'dick' — like the savages we are."

"I don't know, Beasty" — Joule wrinkles his nose —"it depends if they saw it lying down or straight up."

They both share a look and gasp. "A bone-nuh-nuh!"

"Cut that out," Tia says.

"Anyways" — Emile inserts, flashing us with a smile – more specifically at Tia — "that's why I need Tea to help me."

Tia, who had been taking a swig of boba tea from her tumbler, coughs in surprise. "Why me?"

Emile shrugs nonchalantly. "Because teachers like you, the sub's young, and you're smoking hot."

She eyes him suspiciously, tapping her foot. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

Emile taps his chin with his finger, eyes to the ceiling pretending to think as if all the answers could be found there. "Gee, how to convince a young and virile male. I don't know..." — he whips his silky blonde locks in the air, his hands on his waist like in a Beyoncé-esque choreography — "maybe flip your hair? Push up your boobs 'til they touch your chin"— he cups his chest and arches his back until his eyes fall toward Tia's small boobage*  — "well, to their maximum height."

Tia grimaces, arms crossed. "Are you asking me for help or a beating?"

Emile yelps and runs behind the only indestructible shield he could find — Tamieke.

Sure, use the gang's tank* — as if that could protect you from Tia's wrath.

Emile realizes this and raises his hands in surrender. "Hey-hey, you have a decent butt. We can still work with that. What if, you jiggle your butt while you expose the scent of your womb in heat?"* 

Tia cracks her knuckles.

Emile sighs, raising his hands in defeat. "Or just eat a horse's heart* or something, anything that you women do to have straight men go putty in your hands."

Tia taps her chin. "Huh, how about a 'no'?"

"On second thought" — he turns to me with a sickly saccharine smile — "A-a-a-ve-y, my drop-dead gorgeous felon" —

I hold my hand up. "Nuh-uh, don't look at me. I already handled Crankston for you. I have reached my maximum quote of one for helping people. You're on your own this time."

"Tea-a-a-a-a," Emile whines helplessly, arms clasped and batting his eyelashes.

"No," she says with a finality in her tone.

Emile pouts until his eyes spot something behind us that returns the gleam in his eyes. "Well, in that case, I'm sorry for doing this in advance!"

"Just what are you up to?" Tia asks, her round eyes thinning in suspicion.

"Remember, you love me!" he says, when out of nowhere, he pushes Tia into the ongoing student traffic.

Tia lets out a surprised yelp, both her arms flailing out.

We all send Tia alarming looks. Scattering around and scrambling forward, we all try to grab her.

And just like that, time curiously slows down and silence drops in for the second time.

(To Be Cont.)

‧ ‧ ‧

So, who here enjoyed my GOT reference?

No one?

You didn't get it?

That's fine. I included it in my footnotes XD

‧ ‧ ‧

*[F/N]*

Cash Cow — someone or something that makes a lot of money.

Yaoi —  a Japanese term for manga that features a sexual romance between men, specifically as created by and for women.

Clapback —  a very strong and well-observed comeback, spoken or written, to criticism—one so fierce it utterly destroys and owns its target.

Library — an RPDR term wherein drag queens are invited to "read" (to wittily and incisively expose a person's flaws — a term from Paris is Burning ) each other. 

Filth — (from the phrase "read for filth")  another RPDR term meaning the act of criticizing, or being criticized to the fullest extent.

Val Kilmer Lips — actor Val Kilmer's iconic lips are described as "...a Cupid's bow that lays in the shadow of the plump convex swoop of his upper lip..." (Brodesser-Akner, 2020)

Size of your hand... — refers to a study where the size of a man's hand is indication of the size of his penis. (in Ave's context) being rich compensates to his "small" hands — and small penis.

Alex Owens — the female protagonist from the movie, Flashdance who dreams to be accepted someday to an illustrious school of dance. Her iconic scene was dancing to the song "What a Feeling" and leaning backwards on a chair while water showers down on her.

Boobage — slang for "a woman's breasts"

Tank — means "heavily-built person"

Jiggle your butt expose the womanly scent of your womb in heat — refers to how female dogs act to catch the attention of a male dog in order to mate. 

Eat a horse's heart — refers to a Game of Thrones scene where Daenarys share a long burning gaze with Khal Drogo as she ate a horse's heart.

‧ ‧ ‧

‧ ‧ ‧

Copyright © 2017  Lei André