AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then I squeezed Allison one last time before relinquishing her to Michael.
Her new boyfriend, apparently.
I made my way to homeroom by myself. Because Michael and Allison wanted to walk hand in hand. It was the first time in my entire high school career I’d walked to homeroom alone. And it sucked. Hard. I crossed the threshold of the classroom just as the bell rang. And Allison came running in behind me just before the bell stopped ringing. She smelled like a mixture of her conditioner and Michael’s aftershave as she sat down next to me.
A combination that brought tears to my eyes.
Allison took my hand. “You okay?”
I nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“You’re going to get through this, okay? And you’re not going to do it alone.”
Except, I was already alone. Mom had D.J. and didn’t give a shit about my issues. Allison had Michael, and the two of them didn’t give a shit as to how much PDA they graced the general public with. I was alone. Completely alone.
And I wondered if Clint felt this alone.
9
Clinton
“Holy fuck.”
I groaned as I rolled over. Something sticky and crusted slid against my skin. It made me grimace, causing me to reach for my sheets. And when I threw them off my body, memories came barreling back.
Memories of my dream.
“Are you shitting me?”
My boxers had a massive wet spot on them. My sheets were caked in cum. I snickered as I tossed my comforter off the bed, groaning at the smell. I hadn’t had to deal with this shit since I was thirteen years old. And yet, some dream with Rae made me come like I’d just learned how to touch my dick for the first time.
“What a fucking mess,” I whispered.
I threw my arm over my face. I didn’t know what else to do. Every part of me hurt, my face included. And dream after dream last night haunted me. Every single one of them about her. Rae. That beautiful body and those soft curves and that excessive softness and those luxurious thighs. There wasn’t a dream that ran through my head that hadn’t been tainted by her presence. My balls felt empty. There was so much wetness on my bed.
How many times did I orgasm last night?
I sighed as I sat up. I ripped my sheets off the bed and tossed them to the side. I turned my fan on, needing to dry out the rest of my damn mattress before I inched my way out of my boxers. Feeling that crusted sensation sliding down my skin made me shiver. And not in a good way. I rushed into the bathroom and readied myself for a long, hot shower.
Hoping to wash the dreams away.
The one time
I wanted to wake myself up, I couldn’t. The one time I wanted to awaken myself from all those bullshit dreams, and I couldn't make it happen. I’d been practically sleepless for the past two nights. Then I pass out and my brain fucking tortures me. Just my luck, at this point. I turned on the hot water and let the steam fill the room. I stepped in, feeling the waterfall showerhead cascade hot streams down my back, carrying with it the stench of my sweat and the crusted evidence of my debauched dreams.
Tortuous dreams of a girl I couldn't have.
I scrubbed myself down. I washed my hair and winced as water beat against my face. I knew things would feel worse with my body before they got better. But I was tempted to go to a doctor. My nose fucking hurt. And it made me angry. Just what I needed to start my day. A large dose of fucking anger.
I hate my life.
I stood under the water until I felt it grow lukewarm. Then I turned it off and reached for a towel. Getting ready for the day took almost twice the amount of time. Especially since it felt like the marrow of my bones were filled with lead. I pulled on a pair of jeans and stretched out the collar of my shirt. I slid it over my face, trying not to hit my nose as I finished getting dressed. I gathered up my things and walked downstairs. I guess I didn’t have a choice but to go to school today.
I didn’t feel like it, though.
I picked up my bomber jacket lying on the floor. But instead of putting it on, I simply carried it into the kitchen. I figured the smell of coffee would greet me. Or breakfast. Or the sound of my stepmother’s voice.
But nothing greeted me when I got into the kitchen.
