Page 62 of Bad for Me

Strange, crazy, obsessive.

I laughed to myself, fingering all my black t-shirts and ripped jeans. The occasional sweater hung amongst the forgotten clothing that I used to wear, but I grabbed one of my dry-cleaned green and yellow cheer uniforms.

Coach Kelly requested dirty uniforms each Friday to be dry cleaned only. We couldn’t wash them ourselves.

Did I really expect any less from her? Her rigorous training schedule, her on-time-only or you run laps rule.

I was late for the second practice, and she made me run fifty laps, watching me the entire time.

I sat on the edge of my bed as I opened the black and white yearbook, tracing over her senior photo into a heart with my index finger.

She was all eighties perfection—teased blonde hair, a giantColgatesmile, and heavy eyeshadow. She was the perfect student, winning the best smile and most popular. My lower belly clenched, and I shifted on my bed, resisting the urge to reach between my legs and let myself become fully enveloped in the fantasy ofher.

I closed my eyes and laid back; the yearbook draped over my chest. I desperately wanted to know how she tasted, if it was salty and sweet or musky and bold. Either way, my nipples hardened, and I allowed myself to play out a scene between us when she was my age.

I was the outcast, weird girl, but she didn’t care—she wanted me. It’d be at a party—no, a small get together of some kind. A study group. And she’d pull me into the bathroom, devouring my mouth with her own in a tangle because she couldn’t wait any longer to have me.

My mother’s knocking interrupt my morning fantasy, and I quickly sat up, tucking the yearbook in between my mattress and bedframe.

“Yes, Mom. I know it’s time for practice. It’s only six-thirty in the morning, you know, most people are still asleep right now.” I stomped a foot but calmed myself with a quick thought of Ava’s smile.

I shoved my uniform in my bag, not in the mood to play nice girl today.

I was wearing my uniform.

A ‘Coach Kelly won’t be able to look away from me today’ outfit.

I walked down the quiet street, needing the fresh air and time to drink my coffee. The neighborhood was small, out skirting the school like a protective little hug. The hub of the townwasthe school, and according to my research, was home to one of the first school for girls in New England.

The historical colonial buildings were beautiful, and I enjoyed walking to the school early in the morning like this while it was quiet; the fog just beginning as the nights grew colder.

I passed Coach and Mr. Kelly’s house when I walked. They lived slightly down the road, near the popular church, Bright Hope.

I hoisted my bag over my shoulder and stopped, gazing into the dewy grass around the houses, noticing something moving out of the corner of my eye. I blinked a few times. Coach Kelley’s curtains moved…and I probably looked like I was snooping. Great.

I looked down at my watch. Six fifty-five. She wouldn’t be home. Coach would be at the school gym already setting up.

I walked to the edge of the yard, and a black cat scurried over to me.

I smiled, bending over to give it a pat. The cat twirled its way through my legs, pressing its tail against me.

“Mary…good morning. On your way to school?”

I stood, noticing Mr. Kelly’s very bare chest in a green robe under the filtering sunlight. He smiled at me; half grin plastered to the side of his face.

“Yes,” I said, trying not to start any further conversation since he took in my skirt-clad body like a tall drink of morning coffee.

I continued to walk, but the cat followed, and I looked back at him awkwardly as he watched us both walk away.

He did not call the cat, or get it back, he just stared.

Goosebumps crawled along my skin, and I ‘pst, pst’ at the cat to get it to go back.

I looked back as it bounced back towards its home.

Once I reached the busy street that intersected the quieter part of town from the busier roads of the school, the kitty was out of sight.

There was a vibe about that guy…and it wasn’t a ‘cool teacher’ vibe.

---