The Good Neighbors Ch. 20

"I'm leaving," Tommy wrote out.

He sent it off first to his parents, and then to the Hastings.

"I'm going to head back to school early."

He didn't know if that much was true. All he knew was that, by the end of the day, he planned to be as far away from that town as possible.

Mrs. Clark shifted in her sleep beside him. She'd somehow kept her shirt and bra on throughout everything. He could smell the wet musk of them coming from under the covers every time she moved.

Tommy watched the replies coming in. It was the same for both of them.

"Call me."

"Busy at the moment," he wrote back. "Will call later." He tossed his phone aside.

Mrs. Clark gave a light snore as Tommy slipped back beneath the covers. He eased his way down the length of her, crawling beneath the damp sheets. He opened her legs, watching the strands of drippings stretch between them. His lips pressed against hers.

She squeezed at him gently with her thighs as she woke. He could taste it as she dribbled out his spent seed from the night before. She gripped him tighter between her legs and they twisted back and forth silently together as he lapped at her at her folds.

A slick of sweat ran across her body as she finally came, screaming into the cold morning air. She bounced against the mattress lightly, riding his face until she was done.

Her panting slowed, and she fell back onto the bed limply. Tommy turned her over and lifted her into position. He mounted her again and rode her slowly. He didn't long at all.

She skittered off to pee the moment he was done, and he followed just behind her.

"I'm leaving," he told her, leaning against the bathroom wall as she squatted down.

She leaned forward with a grimace, and her legs went briefly tensed as she released.

"I'm leaving town," he clarified. "And I hope you leave, too. You can come with me."

She watched the far wall until she was done, giving nothing away.

"I have a house," she said finally. "I have my daughter. I have -I have my husband to deal with still."

Tommy shook his head. "You have to take care of yourself first. You have to get away from all of this. And those people. That group of friends of yours are a cancer."

Mrs. Clark laughed weakly as she stood back up and turned toward the sink.

"I'm not kidding," he went on. "I think they just spread, and they suck the life out of everything they touch." Tommy sighed. "I was a virgin two months ago. Did you know that?"

She watched him for a moment and shook her head.

"I was... I thought I was straight. Maybe I still am. But now I'm giving blowjobs to strangers. I'm having sex on tape for money. I'm breaking up marriages-"

"You didn't-" she began.

"I wanted to," he told her flatly. "I wanted to break up your marriage. I tried to make him angry with you.

"I thought he was an asshole, and I wanted you two to break up. And then I wanted to fuck you until you wouldn't go back to him. That was my plan," he said. "I mean, also I just really like you. I want you to have better. But all of this, that's not something I would have ever considered before I got involved with these people.

"Everything I've done for these past two months has been insane, and reckless, and so wildly out of character. Then they joke about bringing my parents into this, just to see the look on my face. They don't care. It's just some fucking game to them, Tabitha. They don't care about us. We're not people to them. It's just some fucking game."

He looked at her pleadingly as she watched him in the mirror.

"They want us to think they're just some hippie, free-love swingers. But they're not. They don't just want to have sex. It's..."

It was some kind of power trip. Some thrill of exploiting and using up others. It sounded too crazy to say aloud.

"They're bad people, Tabitha," he told her. "And I want to think that we're not like them. Not yet."

She watched him silently, like she was waiting to see if he would laugh it off.

"I'm going to go home and pack. I want to be gone before lunch. Text me if you want to come along," he told her. "I would like you to be there with me. It can be just like it was before. We can get barbecue again on the way out."

He got dressed and headed out of the room, but she didn't stop him. She didn't say much, but she gave him a peck on the cheek just before he stepped outside. He nodded at her as he got back into the car.

As he rolled through her suburbs, he dialed his parents first.

There was no answer, but he left them a message, telling them his plan, letting them know he was on the way back.

The Hastings, at least, answered on the first ring.

"Tommy, my boy!" Mr. Hastings roared. "What's this about leaving?"

"Just time I headed back," he mumbled.

"It's only July! If we'd known you were going to leave town the moment you got a car, we wouldn't have helped!"

Mr. Hastings laughed. It didn't seem like a joke, though.

"Well, just don't run off too quick!" the old man went on. "I know some people will want to say a proper goodbye."

Tommy scoffed. "I bet. But I don't think I'll have time. Maybe when I come back over Christmas."

Or, God willing, never again in life.

"Don't be in such a rush," Mr. Hastings went on. "We've all been putting together a little bit of a going away present for you."

I-fucking-bet, Tommy thought.

It likely involved a video camera and someone being trussed like a pig.

"Sorry. Next time, though."

"Enh, we've got about eight thousand dollars here so far," Mr. Hastings replied.

The car skidded toward the edge of the road for a moment.

"What?"

"Everyone's just been chipping in a bit. We wanted to make sure you remembered us fondly and all that. We can't have you running off and finding a proper job next summer, can we?"

Tommy's throat closed up as he tried to breathe. The car swerved again. He had to lock his elbows tight to keep it steady.

"That's insane," he said finally. "What are you talking about?"

The voice of Mrs. Hastings called out from the other line. "Is that Tommy? Hello dear!"

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time people called us crazy," her husband cackled.

"I can't take eight thousand dollars," Tommy gasped out, after a moment.

Mr. Hastings mumbled something to his wife and didn't seem to hear him. "Hm? What do you mean?"

"That's more than I've made all summer."

The man made a non-committal noise. "Well, it's here if you want it. Most of us have plenty to spare. Want to say hi to the wife here?"

Tommy blinked wildly around at the car. "Uh, I guess. Hello?"

"Good morning, Tommy! What's this about leaving then?"

He explained it all over again to her. By the time he was done, he was already home and pulling up into his parent's driveway.

"So, this gift, it's just there waiting at your place? I can go in now and take it?"

"Oh, don't be silly!" she laughed. "We only just found out you were planning to leave!"

He grit his teeth as he unlocked the door to his home and stepped inside. The living room was dark. His parents would still be at work.

"Well, I'm heading out in ten minutes," Tommy said bitterly. "So, tell them not to worry about it. I'll see you next summer."

The words hurt to say, but nothing on Earth would keep him around another day here.

"Don't be such a silly puss," she laughed. "I'm just out with some of the girls now. Give me a few hours to get out the word, and we'll get it all together. They'll be heartbroken if you just run off without it, like you don't care. It would be quite ungrateful, after everything."

Tommy glanced at the clock on his bedroom wall as he stepped inside.

He could still feel the loss from all the money he'd spent on the car. It might have been a great deal, but it was still most of his savings.

His teeth ground together tighter.

"What's that sound?" Mrs. Hastings asked.

"I want to leave tonight," he reminded them.

"Oh, sure, sure."

"I left some things at Mrs. Greene's. I can pack here, get to her place, and come back. But then I really need to go. Is that enough time?"

"That'll be just fine, dear."

He didn't believe it for a moment, but he packed in a frenzy all the same. His cheeks blazed painfully, both from rage and excitement. And guilt for having given in so quickly.

His mom texted back as he loaded up the car.

"Drive safe!" He shook his head and pocketed the phone again. At least the perverts cared that he was leaving.

Thirty minutes later, he was back at Mrs. Greene's and storming up the stairs. He was nearly done packing when Mrs. Hastings texted again.

"I should be home by five tonight, dear."

Tommy swung his fists into the couch cushions a few hundred times before replying.

"OK"

Noon came reluctantly. The sun hung motionless up above. As the apartment slowly darkened, his mood continued to sour. Every minute lost was a minute further he could have been out of town.

Mrs. Hastings never texted back. Neither did his parents.

Tommy watched the clock and waited for time to pass.

At four, he headed back toward home. With traffic, it was nearly five by the time he pulled into the maze of suburban streets. As he spotted the Hastings' place, he came to a dead stop and nearly put the car into reverse.

It was packed. Cars filled their driveway and lined the street halfway down the block.

His foot shook against the pedal as he debated what to do.

Eight thousand dollars. That was months of work. If he was lucky. And full-time, at that. A year of it even.

But was that worth never seeing their faces again? Their creepy, ugly grins? Their wandering hands?

He could taste the bile in his throat already. Eight thousand dollars.

"Fuckers," he breathed, putting the car into park.

The walk down the block seemed to take a lifetime. But he couldn't seem to stop his feet from moving. He raised his hand to knock at the door, and it swung open before he even had the chance.

"Tommy!"

A man he didn't recognize hugged him and waved him inside. Tommy stepped past him, into a party already underway.

The blinds were pulled, but the lights were still bright. The music was low enough to hear the waves of conversation around him. Everyone still seemed sober, and gave him nothing worse than a wide smile and a wave.

"Good luck this year!" a couple told him.

"It's been so sweet having you around," another woman added, patting his shoulder. "Be safe driving!"

Tommy nodded and made his way through the house. Not finding either of his neighbors, he headed to the back porch. Another wave of greetings met him.

"Hey, kid!" Mr. Hastings called out. His wife was there beside him.

Tommy forced a grim smile. They were dead center of the pool.

Fucking assholes, he thought.

"Want to jump in?" Mr. Hastings called over.

Tommy shook his head. "No, thank you."

Mr. Hastings pulled his wife with him underwater. Someone handed Tommy a drink, and he gulped it down without looking. The person kept talking to him for a long while, and Tommy went on ignoring them until they wandered off.

After a few minutes, Tommy went back inside to find another drink. It took the shake of a blonde ponytail to finally snap him out of his funk.

"Erin?" he asked, hardly believing it.

Her eyes flickered over him for a moment, trying to place him. "Oh. Tommy? From the cabin? I'll get you in one minute."

He waited awkwardly while she poured out drinks before turning back to him.

"What would you like?"

"Oh. I mean, nothing," he stammered. "I just wanted to say hi."

She gave him a confused look. "I'm leaving," he added.

"Didn't they just get started here?"

"No, town," he shouted over the rising wail of music. "I'm leaving town."

"Oh, cool. When?"

"Now. Or, soon," he shouted back at her. She nodded at him as she poured out a few new glasses of wine.

"What about you?" he went on. "Are you going back to school soon?"

She grinned and shook her head. "No, not this year. I actually got a better offer."

A pack of guests rushed up to the bar, all talking over each other. In a moment, she seemed to forget all about him again.

This little cult had claimed another victim, Tommy thought.

Someone handed him another drink. He finished it without looking at them, and grabbed a glass of wine when Erin's back was turned.

"When are you leaving?" someone shouted in his ear.

He gave them a shrug. Fucking never, it seemed.

"Tommy, dear!" a familiar voice cried out.

He turned around and spotted Mrs. Greene swooping in from the front door, and cutting a line through the crowd toward him. "How are you treating our little love shack?" she grinned. "Have any nice guests over without me?"

"No. I just moved out. But thank you, Mrs. Greene. For everything."

"I heard you were going," she said sternly. "That's why we're all here, isn't it?"

All he could do was shrug again. "I really just wanted to talk to the Hastings. I'm going to be driving all night as it is."

She nodded knowingly and waved to someone. "Damon, get this boy a drink," she said quickly. "I'll go get them, dear. You just stay put."

He watched her disappear and sighed as another drink found its way into his hands and down his throat.

The music got louder as he waited. The lights had dimmed at some point as he wandered between the rooms, gliding between them as the alcohol and God knows what else sloshed around inside him.

His head nodded to the beat. He squeaked and grinned as some older woman grabbed a handful of his ass with a wink.

There was never a specific turning point in the evening. But each time Tommy left a room, he seemed to catch flashes of the party turning darker from the corner of his eye.

A woman dangled in the arms of two men, biting her lip and leering at each of them. A man kicked off his trunks as he cannonballed into the pool. Two women pulled a man into the bathroom by his necktie.

The drinks flowed out through the room, the guests pouring the drinks themselves when the bartender vanished. Tommy spotted Erin a few minutes later. She was laid across a coffee table, her white button-up work shirt pulled open as a pack of howling, grey-haired men snorted lines of coke down her flat belly.

He had half a mind to join them.

By the time the Hastings slipped back into the house, Tommy had forgotten all about why he had come.

"Tommy! What are you doing up here?" Mr. Hastings called out, slapping him on the back.

Tommy sipped at his drink. He didn't even remember taking it. It was some kind of electric blue mixture, and it tasted bitter.

"What do you mean?"

The two grinned at each other before leaning in to whisper. "The real party's downstairs," Mr. Hastings winked.

The man's wife held out her arm, and Tommy took it by instinct. Together, they half-walked, half-dragged themselves over to the door at the end of the hall.

He had been down there before as a child. There hadn't been much to see, but he had played down there every summer. There were old board games, and furniture, and not much else to speak of.

But the Hastings had apparently done some renovations here, as well. The walls were lined with great black padding. The floor was polished wood. Another bar lined one wall, and a couch sat across from it.

At the far end of the room, though, was the star of the show. There were two large, black benches, with bright lights hanging above them, sitting on a wide, raised platform. Two whimpering, pale strangers were laid across the black leather seats.

Straps ran through O-rings that were bolted into the floor, pinning the couple in place. Cameras in the wall captured every naked inch of them.

"Our little goodbye gift," Mr. Hastings breathed into the boy's ear.

Tommy cast a glance back at them. And his face broke into a sideways grin.

He passed off his empty glass to an outstretched hand as someone helped him strip off his shirt.

There was a moment of heavy silence, and eager laughter and chants erupted around him.

"It's starting!" a dozen people seemed to scream up the stairs all at once.

The world spun slightly as Tommy kicked off his shoes. A stampede of feet stormed down the steps behind him.

They did love a show, he thought.

His cock swelled, bouncing lightly in the open air as he flung his briefs aside.

"I'll give you a fucking show," Tommy muttered, lurching forward toward the helpless meat in front of him.