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Silence settled in the car around us. I didn’t have the details of how she lived, but I had a feeling she knew what she was talking about, and that she had a right to hold a grudge against men.
“So, why are you in detention, Tyler Jettersen?”
She was pretty candid with me, so I wanted to be honest with her too. “I have a problem, and let’s just say, I distract pretty well from said problem, but then it lands me here.” A more obvious answer would’ve been, whenever a teacher wanted me to read aloud in class, I basically acted like an obnoxious asshole so I’d get sent in the hall to avoid reading.
“Hmm,” she tapped her jaw. “I could use a good distraction.”
My ears perked up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said. In a second, she was climbing over the car council, and then she was sitting in my lap, straddling me.
“Oh shit,” I breathed out, struggling to keep my eyes on her arctic blue ones. I’d never held a girl like this before.
“What, you don’t like this?” she asked innocently, running her long nails through my hair.
“No, I like it,” I breathlessly mumbled.
She slid a thumb over my lips. “What’s this from?” she asked. I knew she was talking about the tiny scar stemming out of the right side of my upper lip.
“Uh… hockey puck,” I said weakly.
Her face cracked into a playful grin. “Are you lying, Tyler Jettersen?”
“Uh… no,” I tried to keep my voice even, but it came out a little too high.
She laughed. “Hmm… Maybe I’ll find out one day.” A wicked smile slid across her lips, then she pushed against me into a kiss. Her tongue swept across my lips, then was in my mouth as she ran her nails everywhere. My hands moved up to her ribs, holding her close.
She released a breathy little moan, and that did something to me. Suddenly I was taking charge, wanting her to feel that again, wanting her to make that noise again. It was like chasing a high. I slid my hands up her shirt, and her body trembled against mine.
I froze and mumbled, “No?” against her lips.
She grinded her hips against mine. “Yes.” She grabbed hold of my wrists and placed my hands where she wanted them.
I’m not sure how long we made out, but when she pulled back, her face was flushed. “Make ya feel better?”
I couldn’t stop a grin from taking over my face. “Yeah, I liked that. You?”
She laughed. “Yeah. How ‘bout I teach ya some more things you might like, Tyler Jettersen?” she asked, wagging her eyebrows.
________
Winter bled into spring, and she equipped me with a shitload of knowledge on the female experience, while I distracted her.
We weren’t boyfriend or girlfriend or anything like that. We were just two best friends who loved the shit out of each other.
Both of us ended up in detention at least once a week, and when I found out she got one, I’d get one on purpose, and I suspected she did the same for me. Because of her kindness through the years, Fi had some great contacts throughout the school, including a Student Government girl named Olivia. Olivia had access to the main office, and she changed my emergency contact from Casey’s number to mine so that Casey wouldn’t be notified of my detentions or skipped classes, which allowed me to relax about it.
Sometimes Fi and I just listened to music, and she’d explain the lyrics to me. I think she just liked that someone listened to her and all her big ideas and theories. Other times, we got into more trouble than that. We snuck into the art room so she could teach me to paint or sculpt– she was amazing at everything, but me? Not so much. We also drank cheap alcohol that she somehow smuggled— which tasted disgusting— and we glitter bombed the fuck out of the football team’s locker room after Bradley Welters called her a “crazy bitch” in AP Lit. I was just content to follow her, no matter where she went or what trouble she wanted to get into.
During one of our adventures, we struck up a deal: She’d quit smoking if she could pierce my ear. I had no clue how or why she came up with that idea, but after a month of no cigs, I reluctantly let her.
“C’mon, lay down across the table,” she instructed me with a giddy smile on her face. We were in the dark art room all alone. She was sitting cross-legged at the head of the table wearing one of my old tournament hockey hoodies with her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. My heart warmed just like usual seeing her in my hoodie. It felt like I was giving her some kind of protection. “Let’s go.” She tapped the table with her knuckle.
“Patience, jeez, Fi,” I told her, feeling a bit shaky all of a sudden.
“Ha! Ihavebeen patient. A month, Tyler! A full month! This is my reward, let’s go,” she urged.
I did a few air squats, then punched myself in the jaw to hype myself up, Fi just laughed at me.
