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The bell rings just as I reach my destination.
Pausing, I slip the headphones off so they hang around my neck, and cast one last look down the way I came.
Something in me deflates when I see that Vale’s no longer there. His friends have yet to disperse, but he’s gone. Nowhere to be seen.
With a sigh, I bite down on what’s left of my candy, and toss the stick somewhere behind me.
Scurry, scurry, little mouse.
You know I’ll always find you.
* * *
Of all the gin joints in all the land, I never, in my wildest of dreams, thought I’d find my little Valey here. At some fancy prep school in the middle of nowhere, two states away from where we were fostered together as kids.
Clearly, it’s meant to be.
Mr. Shromberg begins the day’s lesson, and as usual when I’m forced to sit through these hour-long torture sessions—aka History (yawn!)—I find my mind drifting.
Vale Riviera—Grady Prep Warriors star quarterback—and Vale DuPont—the quiet little boy who maybe kinda, sorta fucked my whole life up—are one and the same.
If I wasn’t 100 percent certain before, I am now. I just needed to provoke him a bit to know for sure. Poke and prod, and eventually little mice will reveal themselves, no matter how hard they try to scurry by unnoticed. They always do. They can’t help it.
He is bigger now though. So much bigger than the boy I remember. Big and broody and downright sexy with muscles for days.
But I’d still recognize the little boy hiding in wolf’s clothing anywhere. Always thought he was so sneaky, so smart. He’s never fooled me.
Except for the night he, well, sorta, kinda fucked everything up.
Stupid fucking Rick. Should’ve locked the door.
Shaking my head, I shove away the memories. Dwelling on that night does me no favors. It is what it is, and frankly, I can’t find it in me to regret a single thing.
Pretty sure that’s the problem, a voice reminds me.
Yeah, well, Rick looked better with his insides on his outsides, I throw back, mentally sticking out my tongue.
But that’s an image better left to appreciate when I’m alone, not in a classroom full of students.
So instead, I think about grown-up Vale.
My mouth quirks as I remember the night of the football game a few weeks back. Watching the way his muscles flexed as he pulled back his arm and let the football sail across the field. The way his ass looked in those gray compression pants.
Drool. Worthy.
And to think Tillie had all but dragged me across the parking lot earlier that evening to meet up with her husband, who’d already been there, having had some meeting with the school board. Not that I wasn’t willing to go, she was just that excited, and I was…curious. Nothing more.
Apparently, football is a big deal around here. Even for a pretentious, out-of-place prep school like Grady Prep. She didn’t want to miss out on the fun. Said it reminded her of her youth, and she was excited for me to experience this rite of passage or whatever.
I mean, sure, their pants are tight—it’s a glorious sight to see, and provided much fodder for my fantasies—but I don’t see how watching a bunch of jocks running back and forth across a field just to catch a ball is as life-affirming as she made it out to be. Or as the guys back in juvie did when they’d stomp and throw shit at the television.
But what do I know? My idea of affirming is seeing how far down my throat I can take a cock before I gag. We all have our priorities, I suppose.
When we reached Walter over by the concession stand just before the game was to start, he was clearly all bent out of shape. Red-faced and seething as he faced off with some slightly younger Hispanic dude who looked too distinguished to be hanging out at a high school football game.
Not that Walter fit in any better in his gray suit. If anyone should’ve looked out of place, it should’ve been him. But there was just something about the other man that gave an air of superiority, despite the bright purple jersey he was wearing. The number 33 stamped white across his lean torso.
As soon as our presence was made known, though, he quickly backed off from whatever it was that Walter got him in a tizzy about.
