Page 20 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

I don’t know where this ridiculousness is headed, but a smile is already spreading across my face.

“...and while I was pleasuring myself with it, images of your dong flapping in the wind came to mind.”

“I see this is becoming a regular fantasy of yours.”

“Indeed. Needless to say, those images got me very excited, and I came so hard I woke the neighbors.”

“Oh. My. God!”

This is a very confusing situation for me. On the one hand, I am so turned on and now I can’t get the image of her pleasuring herself out of my head. The thought sparks a flash of heat and I’m trying to casually breathe through the boner rising in my jeans. But on the other hand, she’s just messing with me like she always does, and I have to acknowledge and appreciate the humor this girl brings to the table, especially considering that she was in tears a few minutes ago. The reality hits that she does this every day, and no one knows the pain she’s carrying around with her. I only see the surface that hides so many layers, and I’m intrigued to learn more about her. It’s weird. I’m kinda caught in the middle of arousal and infatuation. I don’t know if I’m embarrassed or amused, but I can’t even look at her. With a soft chuckle, I drop my head to stare at the floor because I don’t want her to see what I’m thinking right now, and I’m pretty sure my infatu-lust is written all over my face.

“So, after that powerful orgasm finally ebbed, I thought it was fitting to name my vibrator...Dyldo.”

My head snaps up to look at her. “Noooo! No!” I lightly thump my fist on my locker to show my exasperation. “No, you did not just do that to my name.”

She bites her thumbnail and smiles at me in the cutest way. “I did. Take it as a symbol of my growing love for you and your flapping dong. It’s like Charlotte Brontë once said...”

“Don’t. Don’t make this situation worse with your fake quotes.”

“The heart is but a fickle organ. It is so easily seduced by a simple tickle of the clit.”

I shake my head. “Charlotte never said that.”

“Maybe it was Emily.”

It makes sense now why I was so edgy earlier, why I had this weird sense that something was missing. I really like talking to her. It’s just mindless drivel that falls from her mouth, yet she’s like an anchor. She keeps me grounded, ever-present and in the moment, because these are moments I don’t want to escape from.

She steps closer and lays her palm on my chest. It’s instantaneous. My heart starts pounding, and I have to hold my breath so she doesn’t hear my nervousness. Her focus stays on her finger as she slowly draws patterns across my chest, but eventually, she lifts those entrancing topaz eyes to meet mine.

“Do you ever think about me, De Lorenzo?”

Something about the way she asks it tells me she’s not just messing with me. This question is serious, so I give her a serious answer. “I...uh...I try not to.”

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“It’s both.” The bell rings, bringing an end to first period and our conversation. “Are we walking?”

She nods and we start our journey down the hallway, stopping when we reach my class.

I reach out and lightly stroke her cheek. Part of me knows I shouldn’t be touching her, but the softness of her skin is beckoning to me, and I can’t seem to resist. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah.” She’s a little surprised that I’m touching her, too, and she stares at me tentatively until I drop my hand. She turns to walk away, but only takes a few steps before I call out to her.

“Hey, Bella.” I wait for her to face me again. “I realized something today. You’re, um, you’re the best part of my morning. My day doesn’t start the same without you.”

The widest smile takes over her face and her eyes light up again. She’s so happy it looks like she may just cry again. No tears materialize, but she lifts two fingers to her lips and blows me a kiss, and now I’m the one who’s grinning.

“Finally! I’ve been waiting for that for weeks.”

That comment earns me another airborne kiss. “‘Til tomorrow, De Lorenzo.”

“Don’t be late.”

I get through chem-lab and economics with razor-sharp focus. I give Bella full credit for this because it’s not the norm coming straight out of emotional hangover week, yet today I’m taking in acid-base reactions and the laws of supply and demand without any trouble.

At lunchtime, I make my way to the cafeteria and sit down next to Scott. “Hey, Scott.”

“What’s up, Dyl?”

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