Who Wishes Upon a Star Ch. 03

Bruce snickered, "Just bullshitting. If the fucking was any good, you wouldn't go to work." Danielle rolled her eyes. Angela told her not to worry about him. Only chain-smoking Bennings examined the situation with a snicker.

Bruce winced from a strong grip on his shoulder. "Knock it off, moron. You embarrass yourself," a chilly warning came from gym teacher Linda.

"I will be fine. Jokes are just jokes," Danielle commented, still trying to hide her worries.

"Man, you look like the most pathetic ex ever," Linda laid out the truth.

Daniele interrupted, "Linda, just don't bother."

Bruce nodded, "Whatever you say," he told Linda. "Hey Danielle, sorry for being a jackass."

"Apology accepted," Danielle said matter-of-factly. His apology didn't sound sincere, so neither should her acceptance.

Bruce had always been an asshole, although it would take someone 3 years of a relationship to figure that out, Danielle reminisced regretfully. At the first glance Bruce was Danielle's perfect partner: confident, charming, knowledgeable, groomed and built like a horse. Sparks immediately flew between the new English teacher and the veteran biology teacher. As they had spent more time in each other's private worlds, Danielle realized there was no substance beneath Bruce's showmanship. That alpha-male aura of his was nothing but disgusting and shallow arrogance.

Danielle remembered, with shame, how she gave in to his charms. When it came to sex, she was his babe, his little girl. It was an animalistic ordeal in which his pleasure was more important. He slapped her "dump truck" and tits until they hurt to touch. He choked her, spit on her, and demanded that she call him "massa". She was his "thicc the-word-she-would-never-dare-say". Danielle felt like she had betrayed her family by dating Bruce.

"Eeesh, you two continue demonstrating why I shouldn't lament being s-s-single," Angela said, cleaning her chain-glasses. Danielle snickered. Angela loved some self-deprecating humor when she had the courage to speak up. Being such a close friend for such a long time, Angela often emphasized the difference between herself and Danielle. She wanted everyone to know that unlike Danielle Anderson, she was rather bland, thin, stereotypically nerdy, and much more single.

"Chasing a relationship is like walking in a minefield," Danielle said.

"I know. You've said something like that before. I think I have found a better simile: Chasing a re-re-relationship is like chasing a leprechaun," Angela said through forced laughter.

"Damn, you are just getting better and better with finding reasons why it's too late to be who you might have been," Danielle joked.

"Don't you dare misquote George Eliot in front of me," Angela said.

Danielle laughed. "All righty then. What have you discussed?"

"Nothing that wasn't on the PDF," Angela answered.

"Well good. I wanted to ask you about the...y' know, that video," Danielle nervously whispered.

"Oh..." Angela remembered and winced, "Eww..."

"Holy shit, are you guys talking about that kid who jerked off in the girls' locker room?" Linda joined the conversation, loud and clear.

"Shh," Danielle gestured with her finger, "what's the matter with you? Why did you even send it to me in the first place?"

"Relax, everyone has seen it. News like this spreads like wildfire," Linda said.

Bruce gulped down his protein smoothie, "It will do that for some time unless someone takes all the videos down, which is never. For the rest of his life the kid will be known as Masturbator McJerkface with a small dick. Like damn..." Bruce joked.

"Poor kid..." Angela muttered. Danielle just nodded, rather reluctantly. Why was she being such a bitch, she asked herself.

"Poor kid, that's right," Linda said, "Luke Redwood? I remember him somewhat. I don't think he ever made an honest to God pull-up. I remember once when some girls showed up, he tried to do a split to impress them. Then he got stuck. The girls had a good laugh at his expense."

"He p-probably does not know how to approach his crush," Angela said, without confidence in her words.

Danielle furiously inhaled, "I've known men like that my entire life. They have no consideration for women's feelings. They act like they deserve women just because of who they are, and they are just perverted little--"

"Miss Anderson!" a firm voice sounded, prompting all eyes towards Danielle.

"Yes, Randa-- Principal Gallows," Danielle corrected herself.

Principal Gallows puffed at that close attempt to undermine his authority. "I see that you are still struggling with keeping to our dress code and undermining the Christian values of our school. However, we won't tolerate you being unprofessional and insulting a student. Is that clear?"

"Oh, yes, but when Bruce commented..."

"Is that clear?" he again asked.

Danielle hoped Linda was strong enough to keep her from strangling this disgusting piece of balding shit. Gallows was always like that: an epitome of both a sexist and a racist; the school's Big Brother. He observed everything in silence and made sure everything in the school went his way until he was ready to punish the sinful, which was quite a narrow category of people.

However, Danielle had to have her job in mind. "Yes, Principal Gallows." Danielle sighed, "I don't what came over me."

"Good," the principal declared, "Now tell me, I hear the boy had spent a couple of weeks in the hospital. He was the victim of that fire on Christmas Eve."

"Yes, I know," Danielle said, "His mother contacted me, and explained the situation. She said he managed to escape the ordeal relatively unscathed."

"I've heard his sister was there with him," Bennings interrupted, looking at his phone like he didn't expect confirmation of his statement.

"I've heard so. She was in a much more critical condition. I haven't got any news about her since," Danielle said.

Principal Gallows coughed to focus the conversation on him, "Miss Anderson, considering the recent affairs with the boy, you should be the one to have talk with him."

Danielle's eyes widened, her brow furrowed, and she had to restrain herself from swearing, "I apologize, but why me exactly?" she asked, though she could guess the logic of a man like Gallows: A teacher that had cause such lewd behavior in so many students would serve as perfect mental help for a chronic masturbator.

"Don't we already have a guidance counselor?" Danielle added.

"Mister Collings asked to be relieved for the time being due to family matters that shouldn't concern us," the principal said, "You are not only asked to offer Mr Redwood some counseling, but also to inform him about his suspension for the time being. He can attend classes for today if he has already decided to do so, but starting tomorrow we can't let someone like him mingle with other students."

"Why me exactly?" Danielle repeated.

"You have taught that boy for four years and that boy has been a part of each extra-curricular activity you've led. Simply based on that, you are the teacher with the most established connection with him. I advise you ask him to stay after school today."

It was true, in the most absurd way. Luke was a good, albeit withdrawn, student, and his interest in English was admirable. It had brought a smile to her face on quite a few occasions that a boy would be so drawn to her subject. She now doubted if his interest had had anything to do with the subject itself.

Danielle defiantly nodded and agreed to the principal's decision.

+

Like a defendant at his own trial, Luke entered his first classroom of what would surely be a tortuously long day. Accordingly, like his poorly paid defense counselor, Charlie sat near him.

The first class went peacefully. Prying glances and vicious whispers roamed the classroom. Mr Travers had enough pity not to acknowledge the situation or Luke in any way.

Charlie watched Luke try to act stoically. His tough guy routine was hard to buy, but Charlie admitted he was disturbingly aloof, like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Luke kept his face hidden behind his palm, glancing at two empty seats at his side: Chelsea's and Tiffany's

The first class ended, and students shifted to the following one. Luke and Charlie agreed: the day was going too smoothly.

The peaceful day had to end somewhere. The second class started, and Luke reached his desk where a printed image of a frame from his masturbation video lay. Snickers could be heard in the background. Luke just threw it lazily in the trash.

During the lecture a ball of paper hit his head. Luke pondered whether to open it and jeopardize his nerves. Of course, he opened it. There was the same frame with a caption "KYS". Luke crushed the piece of paper in his hand.

It was almost the end of the second class, when the group of eternal latecomers arrived: Neil and the gaggle of his jock friends.

"Sorry to bust in, teach. My old man really needed my help at the dealership. You don't mind, right?" Neil asked, arrogant as always. The teacher didn't mind at all. After all, Neil was already sitting down. Everyone knew that you could turn a blind eye for Neil Hunt. Or Huntington, which was his real last name.

Luke didn't even dare look in his direction, but he knew Neil was looking at him and that this day was only going to become even worse.

Back in the hallway, Luke reached his locker and there was another frame from the video plastered on it. It showed him just as he orgasmed with his mouth agape like a chimpanzee. The caption read: "BABY, UR AS GOOD AS I HAVE IMAGINED." Luke tore it down, just when someone from the crowd awarded him with a slap on the head. Luke clenched his fist, trying to maintain his composure.

Charlie was grateful Luke didn't have a phone anymore. Memes about Luke's masturbation were everywhere. The entire town had probably heard about the video. Good chunk had probably seen it. Charlie then got a message. It was the sleaziest looking dick pic he imagined, and it must have been photoshopped because the thing looked humongous. "Your boyfriend can't satisfy you," the message said. Charlie thought it was the most retarded thing he had ever seen and deleted it.

The class had become much louder in their harassment of Luke. Every other minute there was a piece of paper being thrown at him that he didn't bother to read anymore, if anything was written in them at all. Classmates asked the teacher to go to the bathroom just so they could flick Luke or give him a finger.

Charlie observed Richie, one of Neil's friends, chatting with some girls. They chuckled between each other. Richie was a small Internet sensation of the town; he knew how to have a sociable persona.

Charlie saw Richie pleading with the girls to do something undiscernible then gesturing with his eyes towards Luke. One girl relented, still chuckling. She approached Luke's desk, reaching from her own.

"Howdie!" the girl said with a radiant smile.

Her name was Cristina, a bubbly Alabama girl. Luke has always found her cute with those freckles and nicely plump body. She always acted in a charming way that made her look approachable.

"Hey," Luke curtly replied.

"I wanted to ask if you were free after school. I think you were kinda cute," Cristina said, stifling her laughter.

Luke ignored her and turned his attention to the boring lecture. She awkwardly shrugged her shoulders and retreated, pulling all of Luke's books and pencils off his desk. "Ooops," she said and returned to her friends who didn't struggle not to laugh. "What a weirdo," one of them said loud and clear.

The third class ended. Things were starting to get worse. Luke rushed to his locker. Charlie couldn't even follow him when--

BAM

Luke stumbled and found himself face against the floor with a laughing crowd surrounding him.

Charlie helped him back on his feet as he clutched his hurting nose. "Are you okay, man?" Charlie asked.

"Is he crying?" a female voice said.

Charlie whispered to him, "Don't let them get to you."

"Let's just go to class," Luke replied. As he got up, Luke turned his eyes towards the man who tripped his leg, the man who towered above everyone else in the crowd. With foreboding dark eyes, Neil Hunt faced his prey back.

The next class was only worse. Old Mrs Patridge's words could barely break through the hollering of the students. Taunts, insults, laughs, pieces of gum and paper were freely hurled towards Luke's head buried beneath his hands.

"Why would you jerk off in school? Hahaha."

"His body pillow wasn't enough for him."

"Why did you even come to school?"

"Dude, you have a Tic Tac for your dick. You literally can't fuck anything with that."

"Take a shower for Christ's sake."

"Guys like you only care about your dick. You treat women as objects."

"You seriously have a mental problem when you steal bras just to flick your clit."

"You are a psycho."

"Silence!" Mrs Patridge made a shriek the class had never heard before. It didn't seem possible it could come from her frail body.

She regained her composure and instructed," Mr Redwood, please excuse yourself from my class. I don't want to have chaos in my classroom."

Luke didn't say a word. He got up and exited. He rushed through the empty hallway to the men's bathroom, found a stall, and squatted on the toilet seat, waiting for the school bell to ring.

He thought that he could rub one off like he would usually do after situations like these. He imagined that country girl and her sassy accent as he fucked her big tits. She called him her man, her master. She spit on his cock, rubbing his fluids against her freckled mounds. He pushed her down and held her face against the dirty floor. He grabbed her by the throat, calling her his bitch.

"But that time had come to an end," Luke had promised himself the previous night, "No more fantasies."

The bell eventually rang. The halls emptied as students rushed to the cafeteria or the outside. Charlie was the first to leave the classroom, but the last one in the empty hallway. He scanned the entire area, but Luke was nowhere to be seen.

It was for the best probably. Why even stay here anymore? The day could not get any better.

"Hello, Charlie" a voice echoed in the hallway.

Charlie turned and came face to face with Tiffany's ex-boyfriend Sean Jefferson who smiled and looked as presentable as you would expect from a valedictorian.

"Hi, Sean," Charlie said, admittedly puzzled.

"Sorry for intruding, but I have heard what happened to your friend Sally. She is in the drama club with me."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, could you tell her we are all hoping she is all right and that the cast expects to see her again. We still have one ultimate show to give to this school."

"K."

Sean obviously noticed Charlie's lack of interest, "All right. I'm sorry I can't chat any longer. See you around! Send her my message," he said smiling as he departed towards the cafeteria.

When Charlie was again left alone, he said to himself "Can this guy be more fake than he already is? The most artificial shit since the last Oscar speech,"

"Don't be racist, Charlie," uttered Luke with an unmistaken metallic modulation, "Can you hear me now?"

"Oh, my God! Luke, where are you?" Charlie yelled.

"I am in my locker," Luke said and tossed the lock, "You know the combination."

Luke slumped from the locker sweating profusely.

"What happened?" Charlie asked.

"I had my locker open. I doodled in my notebook to pass the time, being miserable at it. Then some footballers or whatever, some really big motherfuckers I've never seen them before. They recognized me and shoved me in," Luke explained.

"This has gone far enough," said Charlie, "Go home, man. Wait until this thing dies out. Say you are still sick. They won't give a shit about your attendance. You can't go on with this."

"I don't care what they do."

"What did you say?" Charlie asked.

"I don't care what they're going to do. Or maybe I want to go to college, so I need to listen to all my lectures," said Luke.

Charlie examined him with a cocked eyebrow, and replied, "Okay, man. I know you want to go to college but tell me the real reason."

"Things are changing."

"What?"

Luke got up on his weak legs, lightweight like an air dancer. "Charlie, I am an insane man doing insane fucking things. If they're gonna trample on me, I'll be a piece of crap on their shoes, and from there I can only go up."

Charlie let out a sigh, being the only one who could always understand him even if he sounded like someone ready to shoot up a school.

Still, Charlie wasn't the only one who heard Luke's words. Luke noticed it and lifted his head up to the stairwell.

At the top stood the initiator of every puberty of Saturnine Lake High. No knee-length pencil skirt or jumper sweater could contain that obscene physique, that divine creation for Luke's masturbation fantasies; his epitome of mature beauty. Her youthful face with its piercing amber eyes observed him with its usual sternness and subtle empathy.

"Mr Redwood, could you come to my classroom after the lunch break?" Miss Anderson said.

"No more fantasies," something repeated deep within Luke.

+

Up on an outdoor bleacher, Chelsea had her face smushed against her boyfriend Neil's broad chest. She had been crying and crying a lot. Groups of consolers, from teachers to students, had lined up and said their words of encouragement and empathy, with her brother Samuel awkwardly sitting nearby with Tracy.

And Chelsea reveled in every second of it.

Jane hugged her tightly. "You are a strong woman, Chelsea. Don't let that freak get to you."

"Thank you, Jane," Chelsea whimpered, "You are so kind."

"I can't believe someone would do that," Jane uttered.

"Yeah. Talk about issues," Jane's boyfriend Troy added, "You know, he always looked like one of those weeaboos who jerk off to Pokemon or My Little Pony."

"He is one of those virgins that blame everyone and everything except themselves." Neil said, each word simmering with hatred.

"He is so awful" Chelsea said with a heavy, tearful voice.

"Don't you worry. I won't let him come near you," Neil consoled her and pulled her back into his embrace.

Neil caressed her shiny blonde hair, being a gentle boyfriend he is supposed to be. Chelsea purred to that considerate gesture. The situation imbued him with a feeling of masculine pride, and that bliss was ruined by the memory that pathetic nerd's face.

Samuel watched that scene with his subdued demeanor, reflecting on his girlfriend Tracy sitting next to him. Compared to Chelsea and Neil's corny expressions of love, Samuel and Tracy looked like kids forced to kiss one another in a school play.

Tracy massaged her temple, holding her eyes shut. She squirmed and occasionally fidgeted.

"Are you all right? Can I get you anything?" Samuel said with a smile and tried putting his arm across her shoulders.

Tracy scowled and sighed. "Just like 10 minutes ago, no, I don't need anything," she said and continued with her business.

"Okay," Samuel said and continued with his business. He wanted to take part in the conversation, so he asked some random questions," Jane, do you know what happened with Tiffany? I haven't seen her in class."

"Oh," Jane uttered and gave out a nervous chuckle," I have no idea. She hasn't texted me back the entire day. That honestly worries me."

"Holy shit. Tiffany not replying immediately!? Who kidnapped her?" Troy joked and earned Jane's playful slap.

"She knew better not to come to school on this fucking awful day. People will now think I am some street whore." Chelsea cried, earning back the attention of the entire group, and bringing Neil's hurt pride to the boiling point.