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Vic
“No. Absolutely not.” I pull away from Clay. "She's not ready for that. Mom says she's barely eating, and what little she does, doesn't stay down. Apparently, she's even lost more weight."
“Look, keep your voice down.” Clay grabs my arm. “I came at you here because I didn’t wanna cause a scene.” We’re standing outside during lunch. The courtyard is full of people.
"You did it here, so Baby Girl didn't freak out." I pull away from him. "You want her around all that temptation?"
“I think she needs to get back on stage. She’s drownin’ locked up in the house. She’s our girlfriend Vic, not our captive little concubine. She’s screwin’ us left, and right, and I think it’s more outta boredom than her being a horny teenage girl.” He reaches for me. “You get to work. I get to work. She can’t go to Fred, the paperwork makes her crazy, and she’s still got a way to go with her shoulder. Tinkerin’ with the tractor has made her happy, but it’s fixed. Now she’s crawlin’ the ceiling again. I’ll be with her. We’ll only go for like two sets.”
"How do you know she doesn't have a supplier there?"
“Because I know she did. The guy that lives down the road from Mac’s, Billy or Bryan, something like that. I know because I listen. She talks in her sleep, and I ask around. I’m trusting her, because someone has to, so why not us? The people who love her? Wayde and Adam want to see her but not at your place. They feel your dad’s judgy nature.”
"You're a fool. If she does something, it's on the both of you. If it's offered to her, she won't say no. She's not strong enough."
“I call bullshit. Before all this came to light, she was plenty strong. She was dealing with it all alone and was sober. It’s been a rollercoaster since school started. She’s got more support now than ever; she just needs to be allowed to trust herself and us. If we don’t encourage her, no one will, and we’ll lose her for good.” He looks at me so sadly, no more like with disappointment. “Look. I know you were right about her and the pills. I am not looking the other way this time. I’m just saying she needs her normal to get back to normal."
"Her normal? Clayton, it will never be the same. It's something the both of you need to come to terms with. She will forever be an addict."
“No. I don’t believe she has to be a slave to it. I’ve seen people recover, get their lives back. The ones that want it. She wants it. It makes a difference. You have no fucking clue what it’s like to live with a real addict. You live in your cushy house, have mommy to do your laundry. I spent eighteen years gettin’ the shit knocked outta me by an addict!” He growls. “Busted arms, lips. Watching my mom get beat. Two days after we got here, I was nursing busted ribs. It took death to stop him. So don’t you preach to me about addicts, because you don’t fuckin’ no shit.”
"I know she was turning into her mother. I didn't know your situation, but I knew hers. She was starting down the same path her mother was on. Do what you want. You aren't going to listen to me anyway."
“You know what I will.” Clay snarls at me. “I had hoped you’d understand, but you’re more pigheaded than she is!” He throws his hands up. “I’m taking her to Mac’s if you decide to support her, come by for her sets. Otherwise, break her fucking heart again. It’s all you seem to be good at lately anyhow. I’ve tried. at least I can say that much.” He walks away, shaking his head and muttering to himself.
I can't take it anymore. I need to blow off steam and fucking ain't working. I head to the weight room. Just gonna skip the rest of my classes today. I change into my shorts and forgo the shirt. Not that it matters. Ain't nobody here to see anything. Of course, I'm starting to lose what abs I had because I've not really had time for anything. Not with Abigail. Someone has to be with her at all times, and now Clayton wants to take her Mac's. He's a fool if he thinks she's going to be able to handle it.
I've got sweat pouring off of me when I see something out of the corner of my eye. I pull out my earbud, looking toward the butterfly press. Sitting there working, her chest is Heather Davis. Flowered sports bra, little black shorts, and a half-smile as she sees me, see her.
"How are you, Heather?" I say, setting my headphones to the side.
She breathes out, still pushing the press. “Not too bad. How ‘bout yourself?” She got her dark hair pulled up into a sleek pony, and I can’t help but notice, she’s dropped a chunk of weight.
"Oh, you know senior year craziness. Relationships gotten hectic." I can't help but look over her new body. When I was banging her, there was a lot more to her. "How was your birthday? Sorry, I couldn't be there."
“Oh the usual, beer pong and keg stands. Not nearly as much fun as your parties. Speaking of which isn’t your birthday Saturday?” Heather stops the press, wiping the sweat off her neck and chest with a towel.
"Yeah, but I'm not doing a party this year. A lot going on at home."
She nods, going to the treadmills. “I’ve heard. You know- I know we got history and all. If ya ever need to just talk, I’m not a blabbermouth. Ya know that.”
"I know, it's just-I don't know. These past few months, it's been one thing after another."
“I get it. I mean not exactly, but I understand the whole crazy shit keeps happening. I’ve been pretty sick. The girls on the squad didn’t even care. Just replaced me. Now I’m playing catchup with my body from the rapid weight loss.” She huffs, starting her run.
"I'm sorry to hear and sorry I didn't pay attention been a little wrapped up in Abigail and Clayton, this year."
“Yeah? I never got the gay vibe from you. Always figured you for a pussy hound.” She smirks her tits bouncing as she runs.
"I wasn't; I don't think. Jesus. It's Abigail. She refused to choose and was killing herself to make us both happy. Now though, I don't know what I'd do if I lost him." I drop my head, still sitting on the bench. When I look back up, she’s standing in front of me.
“You lusting or really in love? I mean three of you?” She sits beside me. “It must be weird.” Her hand goes to my shoulder. “Do they even listen to you?”
"I love them, Clayton's in love, but I don't know about Abi anymore. Clayton's all about making her happy right now. Hell, everyone is. My parents included."
“What about you? What about Vic? What do you want?”
"I want life to go back to normal. I want Abi to get better. I want fucking without being used to forget."
I feel her hand slide down my back. “You could always fuck me till I saw stars.” Her voice is low. “My trucks just out back.” Her hand slips down the front of my pants.
"Heather-" I groan out her name as she starts stroking my cock.
“Vic?” Her lips seek out mine, tastes like pineapple. “What’s a little deep dicking between friends?”
"I'm in a relationship."
“Your cock doesn’t see it that way.” She tries to straddle me. “We’re not built for monogamy. You’re proof of it.”
If she keeps rubbing against me, I'm going to come and not be able to stop it. I grip her waist, trying to what? She's got to stop. It could ruin everything I've been building. "Heather, we can't do this," I say as she moves herself faster and hard against me. My cock is so hard it hurts.
“Oh, I’m so wet, all it takes is for you to slide these little shorts aside.” She leans into my ear, panting. “I’m not wearing panties.”
Fuck! "Heather, I can't." I drop my head to her shoulder. My cock is grasped, and she lifts up, and I push her backward. "We can't do this. I can't do anything else to hurt them."
Heather pulls herself up to her feet. “Fine you wanna smoke pole, I get it, Clayton is hot. But Abigail Greenwood? You’re wasting yourself, she’s damaged, sinking, and gonna drag you down with her.” Grabbing her towel, she turns to leave. “You know where to find me when you want a tight cunt."
Goddamnit!
