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“Way too much information, Mom,” I groan, closing my eyes. That is an image I never want in my head again. “But seriously, I’m so glad you had a great time.”
“What’s happening with you? How’s work?”
“Yeah, it’s all right.” I sigh, because I can’t believe I’m about to ask her this. “Can I get your honest opinion on something, Mom? I really don’t know what to do.” I’m not sure asking Mom for her advice is a good idea, but I’m going to roll with it, because at least I know there will be no judgment.
I fill Mom in on Jill, and she stays silent the whole time.
“After what Dad did to you, I made a promise to myself that I’d never be like him. This whole debacle is tearing me up.” I let out a big sigh. “I mean . . . I didn’t even meet her as a student, and that’s what makes this so hard.”
This conversation is embarrassing. It’s not the sort of talk you have with your mother.
“I think she’s it for me,” I state with finality.
Mom is quiet for a good moment. I give her time to let it sink in.
Finally, she speaks. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, the right thing for me to say as your mother is to stop seeing this girl.” She pauses. “But I can tell how much you care about her. Do what makes you happy Eli.”
Do what makes me happy? Jill makes me happy, there’s no doubt about that. Her advice nearly mirrors what Mel told me. Talking to Mom definitely gave me more perspective on what to do. I feel much better now.
Lying in bed, I flick through the photos on my phone. I come across the photo I took of Jill at the Spanish restaurant. She didn’t see me take the photo. Her head is turned to the side and her big eyes are trained on the artwork on the wall. Her hair is flowing over her shoulder and her mouth is slightly open as she bites on one side of her bottom lip. She’s so beautiful. Her plump lips beg to be kissed and bitten, and that mouth screams to be ravished.
Pulling my hardened shaft out of my boxers, I start stroking the tip slowly, imagining myself fucking Jill’s mouth. I throw my head back on the pillow and close my eyes, my breathing getting quicker.
Tightening my grip and working my full length, I think back to when we were alone in my office. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. She looked so young and innocent as I grabbed tightly on her hair, forcing my dick down her throat and the way she stared up at me as she swallowed my load . . .
“Fuck yes,” I moan as I release onto my stomach.
I’ve made the decision that I need to patch things up with Jill. I can’t be without her. To see her around school every day and not be able to touch her is hell, but to not be with her after school and on the weekends—it’s fucking unbearable.
We just need to be careful.
Chapter Twenty
Jill
“The American Civil War lasted from 1861 to 1865. Seven Southern states declared their succession from the United States . . .” I’m not focused and am thinking about our argument. We’ve only texted since I left his house on Sunday night. I was so mad—absolutely livid would be an understatement—and I still am.
How can he just switch our relationship on and off when it’s fucking convenient? He’s supposed
to be the mature one, but it isn’t feeling like it.
“Jill,” Eli’s voice booms through my daze.
Perking up, I notice Eli looking at me with a frown. The entire class has their eyes on me. “Sorry, I missed your question,” I say. Jesus, Jill . . . focus.
“I asked, in 1880, which president opposed the expansion of slavery into US Territories?”
“Abraham Lincoln,” I reply quickly.
Eli sports a small smile and continues his lesson, questioning other students. Thank God I had read the book Battle Cry of Freedom by C. Vann Woodward, which we were required to do over the break.
My phone is sitting in between my thighs, and it vibrates. I position my laptop so no one will see me checking my message—especially Eli; I don’t want to give him reason to focus on me.
Alice: Hey bitch face. I’m coming to see you this weekend. Get ready to par-tay!
The text has made my day. I miss Alice, and having her here will give me the chance to tell her every little detail. She may act like she works in a whorehouse, but really she gives good, level-headed advice and always seems to know just what to say.
I make my way to the hot section of the cafeteria, where the lady behind the counter places soup on my tray. I thank her with kind eyes and grab a chocolate muffin, and then take a seat at a table with no students seated at it. I reach for the muffin I know I shouldn’t be eating and begin to unwrap it.
