Porn Star's Daughter Ch. 12

"Oh wait, no," Simone said, laughing. She put her hands on her chest and pressed against them to flatten them until they seemed to not exist. "'What? No! That's not my dad!'" she repeated herself.

Both girls laughed, their evil cackles reverberating off of the tile walls. I felt my eyes water, despite - or maybe because of - my attempts to keep calm and quiet.

Heather followed up. "And then, she'd like, been everyone's bitch for the rest of the year!"

I swallowed in fear. I hadn't realized just how big of a bullet I had dodged that day. I really owed Mr. Rawlins, big-time.

Simone's voice felt like a razor at my throat. "I was all prepared, too," she said. "I was going to leave little tiny penises in her locker, and give them to people to give to her at random times."

Heather laughed, hysterically. "Where did you get those?" she asked.

"Oh, some bachelorette novelty thing you can get online," Simone said, dismissively. "In fact, I might just do that anyway."

Heather laughed, and there was a pause in the conversation. I couldn't see them too well, so I didn't know what they were doing.

"So what did she do this time?" Heather asked.

Simone groaned in frustration. "Augh! She goes around, acting all innocent and everything, but in reality she's a slut and the world needs to know it," she said. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up.

"She goes around fucking everyone she meets," Simone said, much to my confusion. "And she needs to understand that she can't just go fuck someone that she barely knows, whenever she feels like it."

"Wait, so Shannon got laid this weekend?" Heather sounded incredulous. "Someone was willing to fuck that skinny bitch?"

"I know, right?" Simone sounded equally as incredulous.

The words stung, playing on every insecurity I ever had. But the more important question was, how did Simone know?

Are you sure this wouldn't improve his status at school? Tracy had said. Did... did Andrew tell someone?

I gasped, and my hand few to my mouth in fear that I had revealed myself. Did he tell... Simone?

"Maybe it was a mercy lay," Heather said, evidently not hearing me. "Or maybe she roofied them."

"So much for Little Miss Goodie Two Shoes," Simone said in a sarcastic snarl. "Come on, let's get to homeroom."

I sat there in shock, completely unprepared for this news. Tracy had been right, she had warned me. I felt sick to my stomach, nauseous from the implications of what I'd just heard.

Andrew hadn't just violated my trust, he had betrayed me to the one person that could and would do the most damage. How could he do that?

Why would he do that?

I felt like a fool. I had come on to him this morning like a nun on parole, taken him into my mouth, filled my stomach with his come, and -

I jumped off the toilet seat, turned, and ejected the contents of my stomach into the bowl. Mentally, I thought of each heave as a rejection of Andrew in both a literal and figurative sense. He deserved to be rejected.

How could he? How could he?

It made no sense.

My stomach had nothing left to give, so I slumped onto the disgusting floor and wrapped my arms around my knees. I knew that it wasn't going to be any good to try to keep the tears back, so I let them flow.

Once they started, though, it felt like they weren't going to be able to stop. My entire body shook, my back hurt, and my stomach clenched as if it had done a hundred sit-ups.

It wasn't fair. I didn't understand what I had done to deserve any of this.

My mind tried to give me motivation. What would Punk Girl do?

Shut the fuck up! I mentally screamed at myself. I didn't want to be brave, didn't want to have 'attitude.' I didn't want to strut around pretending to own the world and fuck anything and everything and not give a damn about it. That's how I got into this situation in the first place.

The bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. By now everyone would be in their homerooms, and most of the hallways would be clear. I waited a few more minutes, and then picked up my bag and opened up the door and raced to the door that Andrew and I had entered.

Mr. Hernandez was working at his desk and watched me leave the building without saying a word. I must have just looked like some hyper-emotional crazy teenager to him.

I didn't care. I burst out of the building into the chilled morning air, and could only think of one thing.

Escape.