Homeschool

Ten minutes is probably a record. Actually, it was probably more like six minutes, but after she left I spent quite a while just trying to process what had happened, before I thought to look at my watch.



I sat there for an hour after that, watching our milkshakes melt. The whipped cream slowly caved in on itself, and the condensation built up and slid down to wrinkle the paper napkins underneath.



I tapped the formica counter top with one agitated finger.

STUPIDLOSERANDAFREAKNOBODYWILLEVERLOVEJIMMY

STUPIDLOSERANDAFREAKNOBODYWILLEVERLOVEJIMMY



Sixteen beats. One hundred and fourteen times over, until the man in the next booth slammed down his fist and not very politely asked me to stop. The way that I was feeling, it would only get worse, not better, so I quickly paid for my uneaten food and left the diner.



Shit, I couldn't go home this early, but I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I dragged my feet the few blocks back to Coach's place, and sat on the front stoop for a while. As long as I was quiet, I could count and tap as much I wanted. I even counted the eyelets on my boots for a while, but they're not the same as skates.



Even with the tapping, Katie's words swirled around in my head.



"Not working out."

"Chemistry isn't there."

"Really like you as a friend."



I tapped my forehead to make the image of her pained expression go away. God, it wasn't even WHAT she said that was so bad, it was her face while she said it. Pity. That's the only word that I could think of to describe it. Poor Jimmy. Not only is he a jittery freak, but he can't kiss worth a crap either. He doesn't know how to cop a feel either. Ha! If only she knew that I was now practically an expert on oral sex. Now, if I could just meet a nice female apricot, we might live happily ever after.



The porch light shut off and I jumped.



Another hour or so, and I could go inside without having to answer any questions. I pulled Chazz's leather jacket around myself and huddled against the cold. I hadn't wanted to borrow it at first, but he had insisted. I needed a cool 'outside' persona to go with my new cool 'inside' persona. It really was pretty cool, too. I lifted my arms and watched the fringe sway back and forth. I'd have to try skating in this one day, it would look super neat in a spin.



I shoved my hands in the pockets and was surprised by something hard and smooth. I pulled it out and smiled. The Verticoli. I rubbed my thumb over the shiny whale bone. Not only had Chazz picked out my entire outfit, but he had insisted that I take the Verticoli with me for luck.



I had laughed, of course. After all his talk of my idiosyncrasies being for nothing, and how stray buses and vengeful pimps were completely random, here he was, passing me the Talisman of Good Sex. For all the good it had done me.



I took out the fabled brush and marveled at how the white handle almost seemed to glow in the dim light. It did seem to have a certain magic to it, and I began to tap it for good luck.



When the house had quieted, and all signs of life had ceased, I quietly ventured inside. The television was still on in the living room.



Crap.



I took off my boots as quietly as I could and snuck into the bathroom. I was just unwrapping a new soap when a housecoat -clad Chazz appeared in the doorway.



"Late night, mi amigo?"



"Is it? Yeah, I guess."



"So, what did she think of the get-up?" He gestured to my leather -clad form in the mirror.



"Oh, the jacket? Yeah, she liked it, I think."



"And why wouldn't she?" he asked, a sly grin curling his lips, "You look smokin' hot in it. Animal hides, baby. They drive the ladies crazy, am I right?" He clapped me on the shoulder hard enough to send me reeling into the counter and it suddenly twigged in for me.



"Are you drunk?"



He shrugged. "Define drunk."



"Six beers?"



"Yup," he said proudly, "if by 'six' you mean 'ten' and by 'beer' you mean 'whiskey', then yes, my friend, I am lit up. Come with me." He grabbed a handful of fringe and dragged me to the living room. "Let's have another 'beer'," he said, making clumsy quotations with his fingers, "and celebrate your new status as sex god."



He pushed me towards the couch and sloppily filled a glass for me. "So dish! Dish! Dish!" he cried, patting my leg. He filled himself a tumbler of whatever swill he'd been drinking and slumped into the couch beside me, his shoulder pressing against my own.



"So, is she a moaner? Or a screamer? Or, or or…a SCROAMER? Fuck me, those are the best!" He looked over at me and gave a terrible impression of what was supposed to be a woman in the throes of passion, but sounded more like a porpoise caught in a tuna net.



"Ssshh! You're gonna wake Coach!"



"Don't worry about him, Princess, he always sleeps with his IPod on. Skatecasts." He waved dismissively towards Coach's room, then regaled me with another version of a scroamer. "Was she tight? Oh shit, tell me about how tight she was." He took a healthy

swig of his drink, spilling much of it on both of us in the process. "Whoops!" He wiped the front of his housecoat absently then began to paw at my shirt. "Tell me, Jimmy. Tell me everything."



"No! She wasn't. I mean, yeah, she probably is, but ew! No! I'm not going to talk about her like this."



"Jimmy," he pouted, still caressing my shirt, "Don't hold out on me now. Throw the Chazz-dog a bone. I'm in recovery, dude! You can't go givin' your girl a creamy tribute and not share the details with me. I have to live vivaciously through you."



"It's vicariously, and no. There's nothing to tell."



"Bullshit!" he snapped, grabbing my (his) jacket. "You're holding out."



"No, I'm not. There's nothing to tell."



"Oh yeah, I get it," he said, taking another swig, "Chazz is good enough to use for practice, but when it comes right down to it, Richie Rich doesn't like to slum around."



"You're drunk," I said, getting up, "there's no point arguing."



Chazz put a firm hand on my chest and pushed me back down. "I don't wanna fight either, Jimmy." He leaned up and over so that his mouth was beside my ear. "I just, I don't know … I couldn't stop thinking about you and her."



He rubbed his nose against my temple, and ran his lips over the soft folds of my ear. "Did she tease you first?" he asked, licking a slow line down to my lobe, then using his teeth to trace the same path. I sighed and relaxed my defensive grip on his arms.



"Chazz-,"



"I bet she did. I bet she made you squirm for it." The hand pressing against my chest slid down and pinched at my nipple.



"Ow! Stop!"



"How hard were you," he breathed, "before she let you push it into her? Did she make you beg first?" he sucked on my neck, and shifted his weight so that he was on top of me. "I'd love to see you beg." He popped the first few buttons of my shirt, then licked and sucked his way to my collar bone.



"Chazz, I don't-,"



"Relax, Jimmy. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just doing a little … remedial lesson here." My shirt was now most of the way open, and he slid his mouth down the center of my chest, then dipped it in and around my navel. Two more buttons, and it fell completely away. He sucked in an appreciative breath and licked at the scant hair that gathered above the waistband of my jeans.



"Did she suck you, Jimmy?" He skimmed a hand across the front of my pants, and my hips pushed up and into it, seemingly of their own accord. He pressed his hand across there again, and began to work at the buttons of my jeans with his mouth.



The pressure of his hand felt so good, and his hot breath down there just about zapped me of any control I had left. I'd been in a constant state of semi-arousal since our first lesson on my bunk, and unlike Chazz, I wasn't in the habit of releasing that pressure by myself.



"Can I suck you, Jimmy?" He pressed his chin against my fly, and I saw sparks. "Can I taste her on you?" I could feel the moist heat of his breath, even through my jeans and I arched up into that warmth.



This was getting out of hand. We were friends, not lovers. Except, that maybe we could be lovers. Could we? I mean, of course we could. If I didn't stop this in the next couple of seconds we already would be, but I had to know that this was right, before I was comfortable taking the next step. Chazz certainly had his limitations as a … well, as a human, actually. But then again, so did I. And yet, he knew all of my shortcomings and he seemed to like me anyway. Quite a bit, I'd say, considering that he had my fly all the way open and was licking a trail along the elastic waistband of my underwear.



"Chazz, let's think about this."



He snorted into my belly and dragged himself up to my face. "You analyze things too much, MacElroy." He met my gaze and pressed his hips to mine. "Less thinky, more dinky." He ground himself against me again and covered my mouth with his own. There was only his black speedos, my BVD's and a couple inches of my half-removed jeans between us.



"Wait," I said, breaking the kiss, and pushing him away. "You're drunk, and I'm confused. Maybe we should wait until tomorrow."



"Does THIS," he asked, taking my hand and pressing it against his impressive erection, "look like it can wait until tomorrow?" He rubbed himself against my palm and without thinking I wrapped my fingers around him. "Don't tease me, Princess. It's bad enough that I've got to watch you prancing around in your tight little sweat pants. If you don't let me have this, I'm going to go crazy. Do you think I don't see you looking at me? Checking me out? Jesus Christ, Jimmy, if this is wrong, then I don't want to be right."



He pressed his mouth to mine again, with a little more pressure than I was comfortable with, and I turned my head away.



"Cut it out." I pulled my hand away from his crotch and tried to pry him off of me.



"Two minutes," he moaned, still rubbing himself on me, "that's all it'll take, then you can go and shower, and twitch all you like."



"Shut up. I told you to get off!"



"Sorry, Precious, too late," he said, and when I pushed against him again, he grabbed my wrists and twisted them up and over my head, pinning me with his chest. He pressed his mouth to my neck and began to bite and suck me there.



"Stop it, you're hurting me," I cried, sounding way too much like a whiny girl for my own liking.



Chazz gripped both of my wrists in one hand, and insinuated his free one between us. "Trust me," he moaned into my throat, "you'll like this."



"I don't …" I huffed, but the rest of what I was going to say was lost as he dragged my jeans down over my hips and pulled me, still hard, free from the confines of my underwear.



The rest is kind of a blur. I know that I told him to stop, but I also know that I moaned when his fingers moved over me and squeezed. And I cried out when he wrapped his hand around both of us and pumped and rubbed me while his hard cock slid against mine, so smooth and stiff and pressing and friction and Oh God!



I struggled beneath him, but it only served to excite him more, and he grunted into my neck, still sucking the skin there. And suddenly, there was a heaviness, coiling in my belly. I arched, and pushed, holding my breath, but it kept building, and Chazz's hand continued to hold us together, our cocks rubbing back and forth between the weight of our bodies and the force of his grip, and I fought, and bucked beneath him, and he kept pumping and pressing, and I snapped my hips and pushed against him, my arms numb from his hold, and my legs shaking from exertion, sweat slick between us, and then it happened.



I was coming. Great waves of release pulsing through me, his hand and our bellies slick with it, and I cried out his name.



I meant it as a curse, but he groaned out mine a moment later. A couple of jerky thrusts and grunts, and he, too, spilled himself (creamy tribute, my mind screamed) over both of us.



He released my arms and rolled part-way off of me, panting, and smiling, and chuckling to himself.



"Man, that was..."



I pulled back my arm and punched him as hard as I could. I had been aiming for his face, but my arm was numb, and I hit his throat instead. I would have to remember this for next time, because the results were surprisingly satisfying. He coughed and wheezed and flailed around, and I took the opportunity to pull up my pants. His coughing fit subsided slightly, and when I was sure that he wasn't going to die, I punched him again. This time I was going for his eye, and came a bit closer, with a rewarding crunch to his nose.



Blood squirted out in an impressive arc, and I only had a moment to think about how pissed Coach was going to be, when Chazz hit me with his trademark head-butt. I think I bounced off the coffee table on my way down, I'm not sure, but when I managed to open my eyes, I was on the floor, surrounded by bottles. Chazz was standing over me, and I shielded my bloody face from another attack.



He, however, was too shocked to move.



"What the fuck?" he asked, using his housecoat to staunch the flow of blood from his nose.



"You," I cried, trying to get up, "are a fucking asshole! Don't you ever touch me again!" I rolled around in the broken glass for a minute, before finding my equilibrium and getting to my feet.



"I repeat, Dude, What the Fuck?"



"I know you're stupid," I hissed, "but can you actually be THAT retarded that you don't know what just happened here? I didn't want … I mean, I told you to fuckin' stop!"



"Yeah," he said, dragging a finger through the goopy mess on his stomach, "and if I remember correctly, you also shot your load all over me."



"That's not the point," I shrieked, "you can't just force yourself on somebody because you fuckin' feel like it! Do you know why you're the 'Lone Wolf', Chazz? Because nobody else will fucking HAVE you! You have no boundaries. You have no social skills! You're a bully, and an oaf, and to top it all off, you're a fucking douche-bag and I HATE YOU!"



I was screaming now, and tears and snot were mixing with the blood and spunk all over me. I pulled my shirt and jacket over the mess on my stomach and tried to put my boots on through the blur of my tears. When I looked up at Chazz, he was still standing in the same place, in the same position, mouth open in an 'O' of surprise.



"And don't stand there looking so hurt and shocked. You knew I had never done this before. Thanks for the beautiful memories, asshole!"



I slammed the door dramatically behind me, and set out to God only knows where. The diner would be closed already, and I sure wasn't going to go to Katie's. It occurred to me then, that I was unbearably dirty and gross, and I had a total of five dollars and thirty-five cents to my name.



Crap.



It was going to be a long night, and my pride certainly wouldn't let me go back to Coach's now. And I sure as hell wasn't going to be sleeping in the same room as that jerk either. I buttoned my shirt with shaky fingers and set out to find somewhere warm that I could spend a few hours.



I should have noticed the car following me, but my mind was elsewhere. And I should have heard him walk up behind me, but all I could think of was the stupid-crap expression on Chazz's face, right before I left. WAS he really that dumb? Because his expression sure seemed genuine.



"Hey, Jimmy!"



My stomach bottomed out, but there was no time to react. I had a millisecond to think-Hector- and then my head exploded into a thousand stars and the pavement rushed up to meet me.