The Power of Lust

Hey Beautiful

Another day walking through the halls of Torture High BKA (Better Known As): Rushmore High in Rushmore, Louisiana, I had my armor up and my game face on as I made my way to my locker before first period. I ask myself why she has to be standing with her loyal minions by my locker every morning when hers is on a different floor on the other side of the school. Macey Woodfork was the hair green mole on my ass that just wouldn't go away. She made it her primary goal in life to make sure I didn't have one. For the better part of my high school years, she succeeded until I met him. Maybe it happened before or after, I don't really remember but I know I had gotten tired of letting her get to me and allowing her to think she had won a prize every time she got a laugh for a joke at my expense.

I was tired of being invisible but most of all I was tired of wasting time. I was wasting my time allowing the FORK to block my path. So I started paying attention to the way my uniform looked, my hair, shoes. I made sure that I loved the way I looked so that nothing anybody else said really had any merit. Oh, but when he said it, it had merit. I died a thousand times just replaying the way his voice sounded as those two words rolled over his tongue. I was changing books at my locker from one class to the next and I dropped a folder. Papers went flying so I bent down to pick them up, that's when I heard it,

"Hey, Beautiful."

The funny part is I continued to pick my papers up as if no one had said anything until he bent down right in front of me and said it again,

"Hey Beautiful, I think these belong to you."

My heart literally stopped, I took the papers, smiled, tried to stand up without falling, got my books, and walked away.

I suppose I was still suffering from the FORK Complex and didn't know how to respond to six feet of muscled flesh referring to me as beautiful. Now there would be another three years of The Fork; it would end with me telling her to stick that fork at the end of her name in her side because she was done fulfilling her life's dream to make me suffer. People, including her clique, were surprised to see me stand up to her. It worked, her day-to-day presence became non-existent considering the zero amount of value she had in my life from that day forward. Thus, this is also where her value becomes non-existent in this story. If she should pop up again she will only be referred to as The Clique.

Do you mind?

Life was good; I had good friends and a best friend that I had had for some years now. I was still withdrawn though and I kept to myself. I enjoyed hanging with my friends and being the jokester on occasion. I ate breakfast and lunch by myself by choice most days. I suppose it was a case of old habits die hard. My friends would go outside after they ate their lunch but most times, I would sit there reading, doing homework, or doodling until the bell rang, signaling that the second half of the day had begun.

This particular day, it was before the gang had departed and we were still enjoying our lunch. The Clique was staring, I suppose trying to make me uncomfortable and laughing as if they were having a good ol' belly shake at my expense. My girls wanted to say something but I said I got it. I had some salad dressing left on my plate so I stuck my fingers in it and started sucking my fingers in a sexual manner staring at all of them. Kissing at them and moaning so only we could hear. One table of space separated us; they stopped laughing and directed some derogatives toward me as one by one they started piling out of the cafeteria. My friends applauded and said they'd catch me later. I got up to throw my plate away and sat back down to finish a book I had been reading that was getting to the good part. As I was about the find out if Lex really loved Jade, he said,

"Do you mind if I sit with you?"

Of course, I was unbelievably shy but I had my game face on. I replied by looking around at all the empty chairs then looking back down at my book without saying anything. He laughed, pulled a chair out, and said,

"That's cute but I'm not your enemy and I wouldn't want to be after seeing how you handled them."

Where the bold vixen in me came from in that moment, I will never know but I replied,

"Of course you would but you would be my prisoner instead and for very different reasons."

Right then the bell rang saving me from apologizing or turning ten shades of red so I closed my book got my bag and walked on fragile legs toward my class, thankful that I'd already got the books I needed before going to lunch.

After I made it through the day without being called to the office for being inappropriate with a teacher, I felt some semblance of togetherness. Yes, he was a teacher and a coach, as a matter of fact, something I found out not too long after our first encounter. I must have started puberty at the very moment the word beautiful left his mouth. Because after that moment every time I saw him or thought of him, my insides throbbed. I had never experienced such a strong pull toward a male and to further make it weird was that I went to a predominately vanilla school. I was a 17-year-old overweight black girl and he was a 23-year-old sexy, tall, virile white man. One couldn't get much more racially, statistically, and superficially inappropriate than that...