Beautiful Dream (8 page)

“It doesn’t matter, naked or clothed, you’re hot either way.”

“Debatable,” I giggle.

“You looked so hot yesterday,” he confesses. “Every time I see you, it’s difficult to stay away.”

“Nothing.” I suddenly answer his first question, my voice deep. “I’m not wearing anything.”

“Don’t tease me,” his voice is throaty and I giggle again.

“Keep laughing,” he whispers, his voice strained.

“Oh my god,” I throw my head back on the pillow, amused. “What are you doing?”

“What do you
think
I’m doing?” He exhales deeply, taking my silence as an answer. “Yes,” he admits.

“Shit,” my jaw drops.

“Yeah,” he breathes out a moan. “I won't tell if you don't.”

I laugh a breathy sound, and he moans again wildly. “Am I crazy?”

“Yes!” I answer excitedly.

“Do you want me to stop? I can call you right back, or we can just talk tomorrow or something.”

“No!” I shout a little too enthusiastically. “No,” I repeat, lower this time. “But you have to let me hear you.”

“Still so kinky,” His joy is unmistakable. “Still so much trouble.”

“And this doesn't change anything,” I add.

“Okay,” he laughs. “You hear me. Nothing changes. Got it.”

The line goes quiet, except for rustling and heavy breathing.

“What are you thinking about?” I whisper.

“You,” he grunts. “Always you.”

“What about me?”

“Fuck, Luci,” he groans, and the sound of him doing so directly in my ear, brings back wonderful memories. “What
not
about you.
Everything
.”

I smile, a true, genuine smile.

“Uhhhh!” He moans, and that’s it, I’m soaked. I close my eyes and let myself pretend the bad things never happened. I enjoy listening to his sounds, the movement of his hand, and his heavy, labored breaths.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking about seeing you again. Every encounter more real than the last.” He grunts again. “And before that?” He’s breathless. “I’d just replay every one of our times together. Sometimes, I feel it’s what kept me feeling alive.”

I nod, knowing exactly what he means.

“But right now, aside from the way you looked on our
non
-date,” he laughs. “Or you in your pajamas yesterday, or showing up in my classroom last week, or your smile, or the way your big brown eyes light up when you see me, even though you’re mad, I’m thinking about our very last time together,” his voice is airy and quick. “What it was like being inside of you.”

“I remember it all too well,” I breathe, squeezing my legs together.

“How could either of us forget?” He agrees, and the way his groans are becoming more drawn out has me breathing harder too. I can’t help it. I move my hand under the waistband of my pajamas, playing with the wetness.

“Coming in you was better than I ever could have imagined it would be. I never came in anyone bare like that before.” I hear his hand picking up speed. “And I think about it all the time.”

I may have let a moan escape.

“Are you touching yourself? Fuck!” He grunts loudly. “Luci, please tell me you are!”

“Maybe,” I tease, and his next moan is so loud that I think for sure he came right then, but a second later, his words are tight, and I can still hear his jerking movements. “Fuck, you’re make my dick so hard!”

I moan, resting the phone between my cheek and shoulder as I move my other hand into my underwear. One playing with my wet hole while the other rubs circles over my clit.

“Uh, yes!” He grunts, and I close my eyes, focusing on his voice, picturing his swollen head as he thrusts into his hand.

“They replaced all the chairs at school, but I kept mine,” he pants. “Because that’s where I came in that tight hole of yours.”

I moan loudly.

“That’s it, Luci,” he encourages. “I can't stop thinking about it. The way your pussy coaxed my come out,” he grunts loudly. “I fucking poured inside of you. You milked every last drop out of me, you know that?”

“Ah!” I rub faster.

“You fucking took all of my hot come!”

“Oh my God!” I groan again, and my legs start to shake.

“I want you to come when I do, baby,” he breathes heavily. “But I'm warning you, it’s going to be real soon.”

I nod to myself.

“Uhhhhh! Yeah!” he wails.

Two more seconds, a few more circling rubs, and a push of my finger, and I’m loosing my resistance. I can’t hold out for much longer.

“Josh!” I cry out.

“Yeah?” I hear his smile.

“It’s so good!” I whimper.

“I know, baby,” he sighs. “I keep thinking it’s you pounding on my dick right now.” He groans just as I shout out another moaning cry.

“I can’t hold back!”

“That’s it, Luci! Come for me!” He demands, and I cry out. “Pretend it’s me rubbing you!” He breathlessly shouts his words, grunting in between them, and I’m drowning in euphoria. “You want it don’t you? You want me to come inside you again?”

“Yes!” I admit, my rubbing not letting up, still shaking as I roll over the edge. “Come for me, Josh! Come inside me!”

“Oh yeah, Oh yeah! Oh! I'm coming! Oh my God, Luci, I’m shooting all over the place for you!”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I shove my hips up, and our cries and moans compete with each other until they get so low the phone goes almost silent. All that’s left are his soft moans and my heavy breathing.

Shit that was good.

“So,” he breathes. “I'll see you next weekend?”

“Okay,” I reply, still catching my breath, my fingers still in my pajamas.

Monday arrives, and I get the official call from MTHS about the student teaching position. Its freshman math, which isn’t ideal, but I figure freshman math is the worst, so it can only get better from here.

I accept the job, and then call my parents to let them in on the news. I know they’ll be excited, so I’m eager to tell them, only no one answers. I text Gracie next, but she’s in school and also doesn’t answer.

I pace around my room for a few more minutes, wondering, debating, wanting to call Josh and tell him I officially got the call, and to thank him again, but after what happened the other night, I’m embarrassed and confused.

I abruptly stand, trying to not think about it, and head into the living room area.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I ask Ren, and she looks up from her laptop.

“Check this out - it’s called The Facebook,” she shoves her computer my way. “You can connect with people in your classes and at other schools.”

“Huh,” I bend down to look at her screen.

“Yeah, I’ve already connected with like ten old friends, and stalked this guy in my theater writing class who I think is cute, but I can’t tell if he’s gay or not.”

I roll my eyes.

“You should sign up!”

“I don’t think so,” I shake my head. God, I don’t think I have any high school friends left that I’d want to connect with anyway. I ended up losing touch with all of them.

“Suit yourself,” she shrugs. “But next year, when you’re off teaching somewhere and getting your masters, while I’m still here,” she motions around the room, “it’d be a great way to stay in touch! We both know you’re terrible with the phone, and what will I ever do without talking to you all the time?”

“Well,” I sigh, scrunching my nose. “You’re sort of going to find out a little earlier than expected.”

“Don’t even shit me. That’s not even funny!” Her hand waves me off, too focused on scrolling through other people’s pictures.

I as watch the faces move across the screen. “Could Josh be on there?”

“I don’t think so,” she shrugs. “I think you need to be a college student.”

I sit on the couch, listening to her clicking away on the keyboard for a few minutes, trying to think of how I’m going to tell her I’m leaving.

“So,” I clear my throat. “I got a student teaching position.”

“What?!” She looks up excitedly. “Luci, that’s great! Which school is it?”

“Mine,” I answer.

“Yours?”

“Yeah, my old high school.”

“Oh?” She’s confused at first, and then registers what that means. “Oh,” she deflates, falling back into the chair.

“Yeah,” I sigh.

“Is it because of the teacher?”

“No… Yes… I’m not sure,” I answer honestly.

“I understand,” she encourages. “I mean, maybe this is what you finally need to gain closure.”

I nod, watching as she returns to her computer.

I try my parents one more time before I finally call Luke back, after a million missed calls and texts from him. I still can’t believe what happened this past weekend in the bar, but I’m so desperate to take my mind off last night with Josh that I settle for the lesser of two evils.

“Hey!” He answers on the first ring, and I’m a little put off by his excitement. We didn’t exactly leave off on happy terms. Still, it’s exactly what I need to stop thinking about Josh, so I ask him to lunch.

By Thursday, I’ve grabbed my phone no less than a hundred times, staring at Mr. Harrington’s name on the screen. Not only have I
not
heard a single word from him, but my parents haven’t called either. In fact, I have Ren call me just to make sure my phone is actually working.

That night, I go to bed fairly early, waking in the wee hours of the morning, drenched in sweat. I’m panting from another nightmare as I stare at the ceiling, mustering up the energy to get up and change into dry clothes.

In this dream I was calling Josh to tell him that I still loved him, but he couldn’t hear me. I was shouting and shouting to no avail. I hung up the phone, thinking it was the connection, but as I started to call him back, my phone all of a sudden fell out of my grasp and down hundreds of stairs. It kept rolling and rolling and I was running after it, calling out his name.

I hate when the alarm wakes me, and I roll over to look at the time, realizing it’s not the alarm, but my phone.

“Mom?” I see the name and answer groggily.

“Did I wake you?” Her voice shakes apologetically.

“No,” I look at the clock. “I’m usually up at 7:30 in the morning,” I joke, but she doesn’t think it’s funny. “Have you guys been getting my calls? I’ve tried both your cells and the house-”

“Luci,” she interrupts, and my heart start beating rapidly for no reason. It’s something in her tone. “I don’t want to hide this from you.”

“Hide what?” I swallow, and my ears start ringing.

“Now, we don’t know much right now, so there’s no need to panic,” she warns and I swallow hard again.

“It’s very small, minuscule even,” she explains.

“What is?” I whisper.

“Your Dad’s cancer.”

Silence.

“Luci, are you there?”

“Yeah,” I croak, my face already forming the most ugly cry I’ve probably ever had.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” I sob.

“Did you want me to not tell you?” I can hear she’s full of regret.

“No,” I heave. “I’d want to know.”

“We have a doctor’s appointment in a few weeks,” she says. “It’s small, and we really don’t know anything yet.”

“Okay,” I whisper, but I’m not sure if I said it in my head or out loud. I mute the phone while I blow my nose.

“Does Gracie know?”

“She was here when the doctor called the other day,” she sighs. “It was only the other night we found out.”

“I’m coming home.”

“No, it’s really not necessary,” she insists.

“No, I am,” I proclaim.

“Well, don’t drive when you’re like this,” she sighs. “Wait until you at least calm down - and call me. We’re going for another test later this morning.”

“Okay,” I look up as the tears spill onto my shirt. “Is Gracie there? Can I talk to her?”

“I think she wants to be left alone.”

I nod, and as soon as we hang up, I wail as snot pours disgustingly down my face.

My Dad!

I want to call and talk to him. Crap, what he must be going through! But I don’t think I can without uncontrollably sobbing, and I don’t want him to hear me like this, so sad, scared, and afraid. I want to be strong for him.

I hit the name I need most, barely making out the H through my waterlogged eyes. I need to hear his voice. He can make it better.

The phone rings and rings, and I look at the time, realizing that school has already started. His voicemail beeps, and before I know it I’m verbalizing my thoughts as I leave him three words before hanging up.
I need you.

“Ren!” I shout, but my mouth is so dry that it’s not loud enough. I think she has class now anyway.