Page 2 of Topping the Jock
My shoes squeaked on the tile floor as I ran down the hall toward the history classroom.
“No running in the halls, Mr. Beck,” the principal said as I turned a corner and nearly slammed into him.
“Sorry!” I called over my shoulder as I slowed to a fast walk. Yep. I was definitely walking home that day.
Mr. Fulton sat at his desk gathering papers in a folder as I entered the room. He looked up with a smile. “Quinn. What can I do for you?”
“Just here to pick up my project.” I walked to the back of the room where mine and two other students’ projects had been displayed for the past week.
I’d won first place in the history fair, then went to district and placed again. Even got a medal for it. My project was on the invention of steam engines and how it was used to industrialize the world. I had constructed a tiny model of the first ever steam engine with the help of my dad, who was a welder. That was mainly why I wanted to get my project. I didn’t care about the poster board. But the model was kind of special.
“Congrats again on winning,” Mr. Fulton said, standing from his desk. “You’re the first student in this school who’s ever placed so high. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” My cheeks heated. I wasn’t used to compliments. “Sorry it’s taken me so long to pick this up. My mind’s been scattered lately with end-of-school prep and sorting out college stuff.”
“Ah, it’s no problem.” His whole face lit up as he smiled. “Did you get into the history program?”
“I did,” I answered. “I got the letter yesterday!”
I had decided to go to college to be a history teacher. Mr. Fulton had given me a letter of recommendation and, other than my dad, had been the biggest support system in my life. His tests were the hardest I’d ever taken, but he only challenged his students because he cared about our futures. He was the best teacher I’d ever had.
“You should go before you miss the bus,” he said.
“Right. See you tomorrow!”
I tucked the model steam engine into my backpack and left the classroom. I stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted Zane and another jock named Wes at the end of the hall near the exit. Two other guys were with them. Through the windows, I saw the buses start to drive away.
Damn.
The last thing I wanted was to have a run-in with them, so I quickly went around the corner. I’d take the long way around. No longer in a hurry to make the bus, I slowed down and took my time. Music poured out from the band room, and I smiled as I listened. Reed said they had one final concert next week before the end of the school year and had been practicing like crazy for it.
I continued down the hall toward the exit at the back of the building.
The path I took came out near the athletic hallway, but I was pleasantly surprised to see no one else was around. No dumb jocks to push me around or hurl insults at me. The sports season was over, so where I’d normally have to pass through football guys in the hall or dodge them as they came in and out of the weight room, it was empty now. Thank god.
Well, mostly empty.
As I walked past the weight room, I heard… something. Heavy grunts and light thumps. I had no business going into the weight room—the kingdom of the jocks—but my feet carried me that way anyway. The lights were off, and the coach had already left for the day, so his office was shut.
“Fuck,” someone panted.
It came from the locker room on the other side of the door. The door was slightly ajar, and I opened it wider to pass through.What the hell am I doing?Pretty sure this was how people died in scary movies, sticking their nose where it didn’t belong.
Then there was a loud thump, as if someone had been slammed into a locker. I recognized the sound of body hitting metal. I was pretty much an expert by now. I should’ve just walked away… but I crept forward, peeking around a row of lockers.
What I saw left me stunned stupid.
Monty had a guy named Tyler pinned to the lockers, his pants pulled down just enough for him to pound into Tyler’s ass. They werereallygoing at it. Both had their shirts on, but Tyler’s pants were at his ankles as he braced himself against the lockers, face resting against the metal as he moaned.
“Harder?” Monty asked, slapping Tyler’s ass cheek.
“Yes!”
I was… in shock. I had no idea Monty was gay. Or bi. What shocked me even more was how tight my pants got while watching them. My body heated, and my blood turned to liquid fire in my veins.
And then Monty looked over at me.
He seemed shocked too at first, but then a smile slowly lifted the corner of his mouth. Our eyes remained locked as he fucked Tyler, both of them groaning as the sound of skin slapping skin filled the locker room.
