Might Have Been Ch. 02

"No you don't. You're not in control here." I kissed her mouth. It opened wide for my tongue and she began a louder steady moan. My hands were still on her ass, and I used the leverage to launch a barrage of thrusts on her pussy. Courtney's hands clawed my back as her hips responded with a matching fervor.

"For the last time, I want your name!"

I heard a faint whisper through her moans.

"My name..."

Yes! It was happening. She was finally talking. I pushed harder, searching for every form of release I could procure from her.

"...is..."

I felt my climax building, and I could tell by the tempo of her breathing, hers was approaching too. Courtney tightened her legs around my waist as she let out a brief choked gasp and a final whisper, "...my own."

Fuck! I had the angriest orgasm of my life screwing Courtney on the floor of the storage room. I fucked her through every spasm of her body, hoping just one more thrust would change her mind. I shot my fury deep inside her.

"Tell me!" Be honest with me! Stop seeing this as a competition!

Save me.

Nothing. Fuck. I was spent and defeated. I rolled off, withdrawing in good order. Courtney sat up, gave me a pat on the cheek, and I heard and felt her groping around in the dark for her clothes.

She had made her decision. Dave had her number all along -- she was indeed That Bitch Courtney, and for her winning was all there was. Our conflicts had a sexual undercurrent, but for me, it was separate from the conflicts themselves. I wanted to get past our battles -- she got off on them. I had hoped this would open the door for confessing our mutual attraction, but for her it was about continuing to conceal it. I saw now that for her winning was the end, not the means.

The storage room door opened and Courtney left, fully dressed, giving me a wave of her hand.

I found my briefs, quickly pulled them on under my robe, and followed.

Courtney never turned around, but she must have heard me. Her makeup was a mess, and she must have been afraid I would recognize her in better light. She was texting on her phone while she walked, making a beeline for the doors to the parking lot.

I called to her just before she reached the doors, trying for one last chance.

"Don't tell me who you are. Just ask me out sometime without telling me it was you tonight. I think we connect, and that ten years from now you will be kicking yourself that you never wanted to see how far you could take this."

Courtney stopped and made a half turn. She didn't meet my gaze, but she shook her head and resumed her victory march.

The resentments of ten years past boiled to the surface -- Courtney's public humiliation of me after I had asked her to a movie, the destruction of the snowmen, her flirting with me to get help with homework, her unyielding, self-destructive, ineffable, goddamned need-to-fucking-win. Courtney's image in my mind transformed into Tasha, and the anger burst. I released it in a string of cold words. "Thanks for the lay, Courtney. If you change your mind about hooking up again, you know my number."

At the mention of her name, she wheeled and stared at me in shock. I could see her plainly behind her makeup now, which had been smeared or kissed from her face. I read the anger -- the disappointment -- the defeat once more at my hands. He knows, her expression said, and I saw terror, which was worst of all.

The full impact of what I had just done sickened me. I had thought I was just getting even, but Courtney didn't see it that way. I could tell from her expression she thought she was at my mercy. I had her now -- anytime she made a snide comment, I could say she hadn't felt that way in the art closet, and win. After all, that is what she would have done in my position.

It doesn't matter, Courtney. I was playing a long game. My future was on the line, and she thought it was important who beat whom next week in debate. For Courtney, those were high stakes, and she had lost.

Tears welled in her eyes. "Aw, man, how did you know it was me?" She quickly turned before I could see her tears fall. A sob wracked her chest as she opened the doors and fled into the parking lot. She pushed past Scott the Hoople -- nursing a black eye with an ice pack, his Osama beard hanging off his chin like a hairy necklace. Courtney stepped around Snazzy Pete and Red Madison, who were having a serious discussion in front of Pete's car. Finally, she found herself face to face with Dave and Sarah, who were marching in front of the gymnasium doors, holding signs. Courtney huffed in frustration and continued her flight.

Dave said nothing as he watched her pass, but I saw his eyes narrow.

Sarah was more polite, acknowledging her presence. "Courtney." Sarah's eyes flickered between Courtney and myself, but her voice was disciplined, revealing nothing of her thoughts.

Startled at the mention of her name, Courtney walked faster, realizing her defeat was known to my best friends. I could almost feel the shame rising in her as she walked away, and felt pity and sorrow. If high school was just a skirmish, and I couldn't win myself, why did I take victory away from her? Was I any better than Courtney in my need to win? Had Tasha turned me that petty?

Courtney glanced back at me as she passed Sarah, and I was struck by the resemblance between the two. Courtney had painted her face white, dyed her hair black, and had even mimicked Sarah's raccoonish approach to mascara. Courtney had made herself up as a mockery of Sarah.

It hit me. She must have missed the Sarah-and-Dave show and not known they were at the dance. I was supposed to have believed Courtney was Sarah. Courtney had been trying to trick me into thinking I was fucking my best friend's girlfriend.

I retracted both my pity and my belief Courtney lacked subtlety.

Dave was standing next to me as I watched Courtney get into a car with Brittney behind the wheel. "Did you just hook up with That Bitch Courtney?" he asked, still wearing the leather mask and leash. He was tossing the ball gag up in the air and catching it like a baseball. I read the sign he held over his head, "MONROE HIGH SCHOOL UNFAIR TO ALTERNATIVE SEXUAL LIFESTYLES!"

"Oh, Lance..." Sarah held the other end of Dave's leash and wielded her own placard, which displayed the words "LICK MY BOOTS, WORM!"

Brittney's car drove out of the parking lot and out of my sight.

I sighed. "No, not Courtney. It was just another ghost from my past."

Sarah slapped me on the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Self pity gets you bitch-slapped. I already warned you this morning. What the hell is with you today?" She was seriously annoyed.

Dave nodded sagely, and asked, "Want a ride home? We're done here."

I didn't want a long, lonely walk just now, so I sat in the back of Sarah's car, staying silent to avoid another slap. My life was so full of fucked-up decisions, it stood to reason that when I had a second chance, I would just find a new way to wreck my life.

"We need a new shtick for Sadie Hawkins Day," Dave said.

Sara nodded. "No more protests. Maybe we cross-dress?"

"No way. You can be the bitch this time." Dave was insistent.

"Ooh, wouldn't that be ironic, me wearing a calico dress, and actually acting like your girlfriend for the night?" Sara's half-smile was kind, knowing how much shit Dave was going to get for playing the submissive tonight. "We could even find a hayloft afterward, where you could have your way with me."

Dave said nothing, glancing at me in embarrassment. He then did a double-take and stared. "Lance, why are your cheeks and lips glowing in the dark?"

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

NOTE: Thanks for reading. Please vote and let me know your thoughts.