Chapter
I think Cherrington is a brainless tit, and I refuse to call her Cheri- because I happen to like cherries..and I don’t like her. Furthermore, her friends are like two cheeks of one ass stuck together to form the base of her existence. Macie Bowman and Taylor Flynt are the lead contenders for 2nd and 3rd most annoying people to ever exist, Cherrington of course being #1.
“This room is soo fucking hot.” I would agree, as it is 90 degrees..but by hot, I’m sure Marcie means “fucking awesome”- and I just try my hardest not to relate with her..well, any of them for that fact. I still have half a mind to ignore Trace and Pete and take up residence in their adjoining hotel room. It was their stellar idea to keep me “housed with the girls” because they plan on getting laid during this excursion. I don’t know what pisses me off more, being stuck with them or knowing that I’m being housed with the girls “my boys” are going to fuck. Fucking Gross! I can’t even bare to look at them, as they bounce around the room in their fucking towels and panties, hoping the door to the boys room will open. I’m so fucking mad right now, I can’t even breath, and it’s not helping that Cherrington keeps cutting her eyes at me.
“ Yo Chans!” Pete peaks his head into the room, grinning happily as he lets his eyes wonder around until they land on me. I want to throw my shoe at him, not him clear out of conscious or at least place a bump on his pretty boy head. He is not even hiding his ogling, which is even more sickening, because Cherrington, cheek 1 and cheek 2 are giggling happily in response. I’d rather someone kill me now, instead of me waiting until I get home.
“ Your such a pig.” I sigh, pushing him into his room as I block his view with my body and close the door to my room behind me. Instantly I feel at home, falling right onto the floor beside Anderson and Trace who had started a game of Monopoly. It looked like, once again, Anderson was in the lead and already monopolized over half of the board. As it turned out, I was tuning in just as Trace was landing on “ Go to Jail.” This is an unfortunate event for Trace, because he couldn’t even roll doubles if his life depended on it. In fact, the only time Trace EVER rolled doubles..it either landed him on “ Go to Jail” or he did it at least three times, and ended up in Jail. I have long since stopped wondering about Trace’s luck, and am now trying to determine why he ever attempts at board games- especially games like Monopoly with Anderson.
“Is that what your wearing?” It wasn’t the sound quality of Trace’s voice that encouraged me to peak over my shoulder in reference to his question, it was the obvious laughter spilling from Anderson’s mouth that had me whipping around in my seat to stare full throttle at Finney. Finney had been the brunt of many jokes, almost all laughter shared by the group of us had always been directed at Finney..and not that his name couldn’t be harbored upon for years to come..it was Finney the person that really could supply a lifetime of laughter. Phineous Lock had red hair, was in fact the only red headed member of his family- who all had various of brown hair- and he was not adopted. Finney was also outrageously tall, ridiculously lanky, and could drink any one of us under a table. We had tried the year before to see who could drink the most, I was the first out…and Finney was still drinking the following morning when I came to. Last but not least, Finney had his own personal style. Tonight, he donned, stripped brown pants that flared a little at the ankle…a mickey mouse t shirt with a Charlie hat and feather. He looked every bit of ridiculous, and just like my Finney.
“Trace..don’t hate the player.”
“ I don’t see how that answers my question.” Trace lifted a thick black brow and chuckled in his throat. “You realize your’re not getting any ass..EVER.” I rolled my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. I almost felt obliged to ask why it was so necessary to have me here, if all this was clearly about fucking each other’s brains out. Where does the freckled face hellion fit in??
“ Your mom likes my long finger.”
“ Yeah..on which hand?” Trace retorted, and I tried my hardest not to drum up an image of Finney and Ms. Rosa. I failed, and instead groaned inwardly as I tried to erase the picture in my mind. I was better off sitting at home, on my bed, counting the cracks in ceiling. I rolled off my butt and moved past Finney, who couldn’t resist nudging me on the top of my head and caught a glimpse of Justin leaning into the bathroom mirror. The door was cracked open , steam was filing out, and I was just pushing the door closed- to grab for the room door- when the bathroom door pushed back and I felt a damp hand pull me in. I stumbled, quiet horribly, into the steamy room and against Justin’s bare chest. I felt my hand slide against it, and my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach, but I gained enough composure to muster a lethal glare. For all intense and purposes, I’m still royally pissed at him… and still looking for justification for my being on this trip. It didn’t matter that he looked like this, I’ve been swimming in all of their pools before, and he’s been just as naked..or rather half naked..though he was naked underneath the towel that looks like it could fall any second…
“ Your still mad at me.”
“ For bringing me on this fuck fest…you bet.” I was being a royal bitch to him, or at least trying to be, but he was grinning right past that- and instead lifted me on the counter in front of him and handed me his razor. I knew what he wanted, we had been through this before. He claims to have horrible eye sight, and has a really hard time seeing himself through the bathroom mirror…something about poor lighting. What he really is saying, beyond all that, is that he is a pampered teenage jerk face, who would like nothing more than to have everyone wait on him hand and foot. “ You sure you trust me?” I smiled evilly and tilted the razor against his jugular. He lowered his and smiled knowingly, placing his hands on either side of my thigh and pressing his throat closer.
“ With everything I got.” I ignored the quickening pulse in my chest and began my task of tidying him, stroking the razor along side in chin and neck…dipping it in the water every so often. We sat quiet like this for a while, me working diligently, while he watched me carefully clean his face. I suspect he really enjoys this, and in some small way, I kind of like it to. Especially our quiet time, it’s what I love best about Justin. We can just be, no matter what state we are in..and I don’t have to explain myself. I can ask him for anything, no matter what it is, and he will give it to me. All my boys are kind of like that, but there are just some things I’ll only ask Justin. He’s not like Pete and Trace who handle me with Kid gloves, or like Finney and Anderson who are too wrapped in the role of “big brother voices of reason”. Justin is just Justin, even though he is famous and girls swoon after him and he is rich…he still treats me like I’m normal…a regular girl..who at this age would have questions and interests that I can count on him to see me through. We have an understanding, a bond, that grows stronger…and in a weird way, I feel it growing stronger everyday..especially when he’s home…especially lately..whenever we are like this..alone..
“ Hey.” I hadn’t realized I blanked out, but from the look on his face… I knew he knew my mind was somewhere else. It would be easier if he was inside my head, so that maybe he can explain these weird feelings and make it make sense to me. I searched his eyes, a place where I often found a lot of answers, and felt myself falling into them. It gets like this sometimes with us, where we don’t say anything at all, but end up sharing so much. I can feel it now, as his fingers drum against either side of my thighs, and his heat envelopes me until I feel like I’m suffocating..but in a good..toxic way. I tilt my head in question, and swallow warily as my throat tightens and I feel a new pulse thumping beneath my stomach. I drop my head instinctively, close my hands around my waist, pushing the razor against the button of my jean shorts, and gasp subconsciously. I’m instantly reminded of that night, when Justin and Cherrington were across the room, and his hands had disappeared..and the sound that came out of her throat…and suddenly I feel a new warmth inside of me…and it feels like it’s coming off the tip of Justin’s fingers as he moves the razor from my hands. Even through this t-shirt, his t-shirt, I can feel his other hand gripping the back of my hip and pulling me closer to him. I still can’t breathe, but I don’t hate it at all. It doesn’t feel like I’m choking..but more like I’m drowning… even then it feels like I have this incredible thirst..and that all I want to do his drink from his mouth. The thought alone is startling, about as surprising as the quench I feel when his lips move over mine and I can taste him, feel his lips working into mine as his hands pull me closer. I don’t know how this happened, I don’t even care to understand why, but it can’t stop because I don’t want it to. That much I do know. I open my legs wider, move my hands into his went curls and gasp when I feel him hard against me. “ Shit!” Suddenly he’s pulling back, moving away from me, and touching his lip. Omigosh, he’s bleeding!
“Omigosh.” Reality comes crashing back down. Justin’s half naked, we just kissed, and now he’s bleeding! My face burns red, and I choke on a cross between a yelp and a giggle as I bury my head in his chest. I can’t bare to look at him, might even hurl from embarrassment if I see even a speck of blood. “I’m so sorry.” I sob into his chest, and feel the mortification all over again. I’m so consumed with my humiliation, that I don’t even realize that Justin’s body is shaking beneath me. Not thinking, I automatically assume this is a direct result of me biting his lip…until I hear his burly laughter fill the entire space of the bathroom, and I realize he finds all of this hilarious.
“ Damn Chans…you don’t kiss a lot do you?” he was teasing, which should have brought me comfort, but my humiliation instead transformed into extreme annoyance. I pushed off his chest, and jumped off the counter just in time for Pete to come rushing into the bathroom to see about the commotion.
“What the fuck man?” His eyes searched from Justin to me, until I couldn’t take the questioning and disappeared out the hotel room door. I could still hear Justin’s laughter, even as I slammed the door shut..and almost screamed when I hear him say..
“ I think Chans is hungry…”
