Stuck

I stared expectantly at the wooden door a few feet away from me, hands folded in my lap, while I sat on the lonely wooden chair, in front of a desk, overloaded with papers and books, leaving barely enough space for the old, yellow-tinted, cathode ray tube screen and the keyboard. Grey eyes were wide and remained on the figure that opened the door and entered the room. Without a word the person looked up, saw me and then lowered their head.

I stared at the black haired boy, as he shuffled through his room, threw his bag down carelessly and ignored me, not even sneaking a glance at me. The atmosphere was tense in the room and I felt as if the ticking of the clock on the wall had grown louder. And then, Emil’s footsteps ceased and he stood on the other end of the room, in front of his closet, his back facing me. He just stood there, shoulders budged forwards slightly, feet firmly on the ground, head hanging lightly, hands stiffly on his sides. I watched him, not changing my position on the chair, hands still folded modestly over my light blue jeans, eyes still wide opened, studying, back straight.

And though the clock was ticking loudly, I didn’t know how much time had passed. And therefore I was surprised myself, when he spoke up, still not turning around, his voice a deep rumble, different from the usual still high, boyish voice I was used to.

“How did you get in here?” The words were accusing and laced with anger, but I ignored the tone and answered calmly.

“Your Mum let me in before she left for work. Told me that I could wait here for you.” He nodded stiffly and when he didn’t ask another question, I added neutrally. “Seemed quite glad that you had a female visitor.”

That evoked a short, menacing snort from Emil that shook his whole, scrawny body. I titled my head to the side slightly, my thoughts wandering to the short, thin woman that had greeted me today. She had a brilliant smile, straight, white teeth, ebony hair that framed her round face. She shared her son’s attitude towards stranger’s, friendly and outgoing, welcoming even. Yet she didn’t share her son’s eyes of mossy green and muddy brown.

Her friendly exterior made it hard to believe that she was the reason for Emil’s misery, whether she was aware of it or not. After Emil had ignored me today at lunch, I had sat with Ian and his friends, ignoring everyone but the Chief’s son, quietly staring at Emil and then finally asking why he was shunned by society. At least Ian had had the decency to look ashamed while retelling the commonly accepted reason.

His mother was the only single-mother in the whole town. She had gotten a divorce from Emil’s father quite a while ago and the inhabitants of this small town that resembled a village in my opinion, found it a shameful vice that a woman would decide to divorce her husband.

I had stared incredulously for a moment, before turning away and staring at the lonely boy once again. Obviously he had been teased a lot with his mother and therefore remained silent about her. But I felt angry because shunning someone for such reasons was neither acceptable, nor understandable.

And after school, feeling empathy for Emil, I had decided to go to his house, and talk with him, find out why he had ignored me. And while I had a vague idea, I also knew that no matter what, I would help him, keep the rumors away from him. Even if I felt guilty about using Ian for this purpose. It couldn’t be helped. After a very long silence, I finally spoke up again.

“You avoided me today. Didn’t bother me at lunch.” I inquired causally as if I wasn’t troubled at all. He made no indication that he had heard. But then he spun around and walked towards me. For a heartbeat I thought he would try to hit me, before he sharply stopped in front of me, turned again and began to pace up and down his room. His steps were stiff, his face an angry mask that I had never seen on him. The usual smile didn’t grace his lips. And though he didn’t say anything, I felt like I could read his mood perfectly just by his actions. Suddenly words blurted out of his mouth, rapidly, honestly.

“You’re intelligent and funny. And-“

“Mean.” I interrupted, my stare softening as he stopped in mid pace. Then he spun around, facing me, his finger pointing accusingly at me.

“He doesn’t deserve you!” he burst out, his voice angry and risen to his normal speaking-level again, no growling anymore. His angry and suppressed side was breaking forth, something he usually rarely allowed to happen. His breath was heavy, his eyes shining wildly. “He’s just talking shit now and when you turn your back he’s bragging about his trophy, the new girl! He doesn’t even know your name!” His incredulous, biting words were met by a small smile and silent, serious shining eyes. I waited for him to calm slightly, wondering if he had anything else to add to the horrible doings of Ian. Then I spoke tranquilly, as if he hadn’t yelled just seconds ago, my voice filling the room as much as his had.

“He knows my name.” I paused only shortly. “And I know what he does. I could care less.” That wasn’t completely the truth, yet I wasn’t angry at Ian with the bragging to his friends about sleeping with me. I couldn’t be angry at him, because I was using Ian. I had brought him to the truck, always my own good, my own intentions in my head. He was a tool to me, and I felt incredibly guilty, the cold dread filling up my stomach, creeping over me and then squeezing my insides every time I saw him smile brightly at me or when he kissed me, telling me I was beautiful. For the first time in months, I felt the hate directed towards myself. But I was willing to take that and the gossip on, for Emil’s sake. Because Ian was my shield against active gossip. He softened the blows.

“But now they think you’re a… a slut!” He stuttered lightly at the last word, his booming voice becoming quieter as if he didn’t want to say it out loud. In fact I had never heard Emil use such language before. Yet his words, their meaning as well as their slight hilarity, made me crack a smile.

“So what if those narrow-minded people think that?” I asked rhetorically, getting up as he wouldn’t look at me. “I’m used to it by now.” I grabbed his arm, but he jerked away lightly as if my grip burned him. Stumbling a few steps back, he then looked up at me, guilt clearly shining in his mossy green and muddy brown eyes. “And you shouldn’t be bothered by it either. The talk is harmless.” I elaborated, watching him expectantly. I was waiting for a retort of how my social status could have reached unknown heights last night. Yet nothing came. Instead Emil sighed and walked past me. For a second the image of him leaving through the door appeared in my head. But then he just plopped down on the chair I had first occupied and rubbed his slightly drawn-out face lightly, as if he didn’t know what to say. I slowly made my way over, knowing that he was watching every step intently. But I had chosen the best course of action for now.

When I stood directly in front of him, so that he had to title his head backwards the slightest bit to see my face, I kicked my shoes off my feet, carelessly.

“Why are you jealous?” I whispered breathlessly, staring at his clear green-brown eyes, framed by short, unruly lashes. Then I slowly placed my hands on his shoulders, staring at them as if they didn’t belong to me. I rubbed his shoulders which were as everything on him, scrawny, yet still broad to the feel. My eyes wandered up from his shoulders to his face and after a fleeting second of studying his already familiar features, I titled my head to the left, and leant forward, pressing my lips to his. When I closed my eyes, my hands keeping Emil in place, who didn’t know what to do at all, I concentrated on the feel of his lips. Dry and rough, until I smoothed them over with my tongue. He then seemed to come back to life and uncertainly began to move his pale and tenuous lips.

I pulled away for a moment, shaking my head as I saw the confused look on his face, inquiring if he had done something wrong. Then I lifted my hands from his shoulders and grabbed his spidery, bony ones, placing them on my waist, and then resumed smothering his lips with mine.

While he clumsily, sloppily kissed back, I took the lead, smoothing my palms over his chest and up again, nudging his knees apart, until I could stand in between them, pressing my body close to his. His heat was welcome, even if alien.

I didn’t waste much time, getting undressed, pulling my hoodie and the tank top off, standing there only in my bra, which drew Emil’s interested eyes to my breasts. I allowed him to stare for a moment, flinging my clothes on the bed. Then I brought one of my hands up to his chin, smiling flirtatiously, as I pulled his eyes away from the sight.

“Wanna do the honors?” I whispered and upon seeing the confused expression, I laughed quietly, grabbing one of his hands and leaning closer towards him, my face next to his, above his shoulder.

“Go ahead. Open the clasp.” I whispered again, noticing the chill that ran down his spine. He hesitated for a split second, before I felt his shaking hands travel upwards my spine. I closed my eyes at the tingling sensation, before I felt him fingering around with the clasp. Patiently I waited, until he had opened it and then drew back smiling seductively at him while pulling the black and red fabric off and flinging it away on the bed.

His eyes widened and his hands seemed to have developed a will of their own, as I felt them move from my waist, upwards, to the front, where they tenderly, still shaking, touched my breasts. He seemed awestruck, and didn’t notice as I opened my jeans and slid them down, stepping out of them and kicking them away.

Only clad in my panties, I sneakily dove my hands under his sweater and pulled it up. He lifted his arms complyingly, and I pulled it over his head, revealing a sickly-white, barely tanned, thin yet not ripped chest. Then I opened his belt, hearing the sharp intake of breath as my hands drew close to his crotch. I wasn’t perturbed in the least, continued as if nothing had happened. He quickly got up, pulling his pants and boxers down, while I discarded my panties.

When I sat on his lap, carefully easing myself on him, attentively listening to the hisses that escaped his mouth, I closed my eyes. And it didn’t take long, before he groaned loudly, grabbing my hips, his fingers boring in the skin, meeting bone, and it was all over. I waited until his breathing had normalized again and then with a last kiss on his throat, got up, feeling his penis slide out.

Wordlessly we got dressed again. When I was finished, I stepped towards the door. My hand rested on the silver handle, when I turned back around, facing Emil. He looked like a lost puppy, staring in admiration and question at me. His ebony hair was tangled, sticking up from his head, where I had ran my hands through it. My voice was soft, barely audible, and it was the last sound that filled the room, before I left.

“There’s no reason to be jealous. Now you can give them something to talk about.”