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I should have brought some popcorn.
28
SARAH
The rest of the day is as expected. Trig, history, biology, and then I head to the library to get some work done until the next bus. I head to work at five, and stay until closing.
I don’t know how he got his hands on my schedule, but Marius is there at the end of my shift, waiting for me in front of the pet shop.
I don’t waste my time trying to make my own way this time. If he feels sorry enough for me to play my personal chauffeur, it’s his business. I spare myself the humiliation of attempting to get my own way again. Being dragged like a sack of potatoes holds little appeal.
“You’ll be relieved to know I’m clean, so you likely are, too,” I inform him primly.
I got the phone call confirming it today.
“Good!” he replies, unbothered. “I mean, I knew I was before you. I get tested monthly.”
Monthly.
“Isn’t that a little excessive?” It’s my first time in my entire life.
“Not the way I play. Health mishaps would affect several partners; it’s best for all of us to stay on top of that sort of thing,” he says, unabashedly referring to his deviant lifestyle as he drives us toward campus.
“Oh.” After a moment, I ask, frowning: “So why did you…playwith me, then? If you’re so conscious of the consequences to your little group.”
He shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me if there was a health concern. But I haven’t touched anyone since you—I didn’t plan to until getting tested myself.”
Somehow, that stuns me. Does he usually last a week without sex? Especially through the weekend. I doubt Marius Goltz usually spends his Fridays and Saturday night alone with his fist.
Great. Now I’m imagining him wanking himself in the shower and it’s incredibly hot in the car’s cabin.
It’s because we’re approaching May, that’s all. Nothing to do with images flashing of him handling that monster cock I know he’s packing.
“I see,” I retort, looking out the window to be quite certain I don’t meet his gaze.
“Did you know Mr. Mitchell got arrested?” he asks.
I gasp. “Seriously?”
That’s shocking.
Mitchell was the son of a bitch in charge of one of my middle schools; reporting him to the faculty didn’t work because he was at the head of it, and had only hired people in his pocket. I still get nightmares of the many times he called me to his office with some invented charge, demanding I straighten it all out on my knees.
The worst time was when I did go to the nurse for help. She reported me to him, and he demanded I sit on his lap until I “thought better of telling lies.” Because making me give him a lap dance was supposed to teach me a lesson.
Marius grins. “He’s being charged with possession of child pornography as well as accused of multiple counts of sexual assault on minors. Several former students stepped forward. He’s been fired.”
I gape wordlessly. The sleazeball in my old middle school was entirely too privileged, and protected by his staff.I never thought it would change.
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope. And guess what, he got beat up pretty bad over the weekend. I guess some guys in prison heard about what he did. No one likes pedophiles.”
I’d put it all behind me, but it still feels great to be vindicated, even years later.
“And Tanja Wilson, your foster mom in seventh grade?” Marius shoots me a smile. “She got arrested for child abuse. All her fosters were moved. Needless to say, she won’t be allowed anywhere near a vulnerable child again.
“And Christian Porter…”
