What Happens in High School

Max’s POV

I leaned in to place a soft kiss on Bob’s lips. I pulled away quickly, leaving him wanting more. My plan worked because the moment I pulled away he brought his hand up to the back of my head, lacing his fingers in my hair as he led me back to him. My eyes fluttered closed as our lips met.

It started out like most of our kisses had. His lips were soft and smooth against mine as he gently pressed into me. I focused on the feeling of him being so close. The warmth of his skin against mine, the sensation of his piercing pressing against my lips, the slight scratching against my face from his beard that I’d come to love so much. I cherished every moment, every touch.

He cupped my face in his hands as he pulled slightly away. He looked into my eyes as he traced his thumb along my bottom lip and went in again. He continued to slowly build up the passion of the kiss. His gentle pecks soon turned into longer embraces that lingered as we each found resting spots for our hands. I settled upon placing mine around his neck, my thumbs tracing shapes against his skin lightly under his ears. He moved his hands down on to the small of my back causing my spine to arch in response. As I pushed my hips closer to his, he let out a soft hum. I considered this a good thing and planned out my next move. I slid my hands down to Bob’s chest and started to walk forward causing him to step backwards. I slowly led him to the center of the room and onto my bed. Once I got him to the edge of the mattress I pushed on his torso, lightly knocking him back a bit to sit down on my bed.

I stood over him, feeling so powerful knowing I had control over the situation. I had control over Bob. I slowly stepped forward placing each of my legs on either side of Bob’s to sit on his lap and face him. He looked into my eyes and bit down on his lower lip as I straddled his legs. I sat with my chest at his eye level and leaned in a little just to tease him before changing directions and taking over his lips. I kissed him slowly applying the slightest bit of pressure. I could almost feel his urgency building and him fighting to hold it back.

He shuddered as he fought to control himself underneath me. His shaky hands moved up to hold my face. He pushed in closer to me and pressed harder against my lips. I could sense the want radiating off of his person and I took advantage. I pulled my lips away just as he grazed mine with his tongue. I looked down to see the slight disappointment in his eyes as I gave him a sly smile and leaned in again. At the last second I redirected my path and connected my lips with his neck. I grazed my teeth lightly along his shoulders and up to his ear before kissing him just below it. I heard him hum again in response to the pleasure. I quickly moved my gaze back to him before quietly whispering, “Shh, wouldn’t want to get caught now would we?” He smiled back at me before greedily taking over my mouth again as his silent answer.

Our lips parted simultaneously and our tongues met. I picked up the recognizable taste of his cigarettes and gum again and repressed a whimper myself. The absence from each other over the past few days was finally being recompensed with this time right here. I couldn’t keep my hands off of him but he didn’t seem to mind. He eagerly accepted my advances and retaliated with some of his own.

He slid his warm hands up underneath my shirt and started to draw circles with his thumbs slipping ever so slightly below my waistband. He slowly started to make his way to the buttons on my jeans, unhooking them one at a time. The buttons popped open at an almost agonizingly slow pace. The want I had always had for Bob was gone now. We’d gotten to know each other so well and had become so comfortable with each other, even in our most vulnerable moments, that something had changed. It was no longer a want I felt for Bob, it was a need.

I stood to slide of my jeans and toss them in the corner. Bob leaned over me as I laid back down on the bed. He gently pushed some hair out of my face and moved in to kiss me again. It was slow and seemed to last forever, which I definitely wouldn’t have minded. Although I was almost certain that we were probably about to do it, there was nothing in the kiss that hinted toward lust. What I was feeling in this moment was pure passion, love for each other that just so happened to manifest itself into the form of physical closeness, but definitely not lust.

I lay there as Bob took over my mouth. I felt his lip ring sliding gently across my own lips and could taste the metallic steel against my tongue. He let go for just a moment as if to ask my permission. Like he even needed it.

By this point I was ready to just rip of his clothes myself. I could barely stand having to wait a moment longer for him. I sat up to kiss him again when I saw the clock. It was nearly 2:30 in the morning and knew we’d get in trouble if he’d stayed any later. Plus there was the possibility of us getting caught in bed together the next morning. Our parents liked us dating and were totally okay with a little kissing but I think if my folks found us ‘the-morning-after’ they’d flip. “Uh, Bob?” I said as he connected our lips. “Mhhm?” he hummed into mine.

In between kisses, I finally got out, “I’m probably . . . having just . . . as much fun . . . as you are right now . . . but it’s . . . 2:30 in the morning . . .” I didn’t want to straight up ask him to leave, but I think he got my hint anyway. He took his lips from mine and dropped his gaze from me. He let out a sigh and looked back up to me with a soft smile spread across his lips.

“You’re right, I should probably get going.” He got up letting us both stand. Once I was off the bed I quickly remembered my lack of pants. I stepped back into my jeans and pulled them up, buttoning the clasps Bob had just undone. He stood from the bed and walked over to me. He placed a soft kiss on my cheek before turning to grab his jacket. He took my hand and I quietly led him downstairs.

We slowly made our way to the bottom floor, skipping over the seventh step which always seemed to creek. We tiptoed to the front door, remaining as quiet as humanly possible. Once we got to the door Bob turned to look back to me. I could tell he didn’t want to have to go and I didn’t want him to, but we both knew it was safer this way. He looked into my eyes as we stood by the door. I didn’t want to have to open it and see him leave. I knew I’d see him again the next day, it was just that he had to go when we were so close.

The last time we’d had this encounter, and something had actually happened, we just lay there afterward. I loved having Bob so close to me, wrapped in his arms not giving a damn about anything but that moment, and I hated having to miss out on it this time. He held my face in his hands as he continued to look in my eyes and softly whispered, “Max, I hate to have to go just as much as you hate to have me leave, but I’ll see you soon. This was the best night, made better with the girl I love.” I smiled at this as I raised my hands up to take his. “I know,” I started. “I just wish you didn’t have to, I wish you could stay with me forever. But I don’t want you to get in trouble, then we’d never see each other again. So not worth it.”
He laughed a little at this dropping his hands and wrapping them around me. He pulled me into a tight hug, one that I never wanted to have end.

Unfortunately though, all things must come to a close sometime, and Bob did have to get home. I squeezed him hard one final time before reluctantly opening the door and walking him out. I held onto his hand until he reached the bottom step. I felt his fingers slip from mine as he walked away. I couldn’t help but be upset to see him leaving. He turned around a few steps down the street and waved to me. I plastered on a smile and waved back before finally seeing him slip into the darkness.

Once he was gone, I turned to go back inside. As quietly as I could, I clicked the door shut and headed back upstairs. I lay in the bed that I had just shared with Bob not five minutes ago. I didn’t want to think of him. I loved him no doubt, but right now I was too upset to have him go, so I pushed him out of my mind as I went to change into some pajamas. I slipped on my shorts and threw on a tank top then climbed into bed. I lay there trying not to think of Bob which, of course, only made me think even more of Bob. It was no use. I tried to think of a way to distract myself, at least until I fell asleep. I looked over on to my bed side table and leaned down to grab my photo album. I hadn’t looked at it in a while and there were no pictures of Bob to remind me of him.

I’d had it for years and it was full of pictures of friends and family but barely ever me. I was normally the one on the other side of the camera. I was never very comfortable actually being in pictures so I opted to take them instead, but I was definitely no photographer. I liked to take pictures and they generally came out pretty okay but none were exactly noteworthy. I opened up the book to the very first page. There were pictures of me as a baby but that was pretty much as far as my appearances in the album went. There were pictures of me on my first day back from the hospital, with my father holding me in his arms. I turned to the next page to see another of me sleeping when I was only a few months old. It was kind of strange and humbling to think that anyone was ever that small.

I continued flipping through the page slowly seeing myself fade from the album. Little by little, as I reached my toddler days I seemed to appear less and less in the album and in pictures in general. These must have been the days when I first discovered how to use a camera. I flipped the page over to see a photograph of Andrew in the hospital on the day he was born.
I remember being there, holding him for the first time and being so proud to be an older sister. I wasn’t allowed to actually be in the delivery room, but the moment I could, I ran in being so excited to finally meet him. Over the years I lost that drive more and more, but looking back at the pictures gave me a little nostalgia for Andy’s toddler and baby years. I watched as he grew in picture after picture until I got to one that hit me hard.

I had almost forgotten about this picture. This one wasn’t of Andrew. I stood there wearing a green dress with pigtails tied in yellow ribbons. I had my backpack resting on my shoulders and a book held against my body with one hand. There was someone standing beside me. It was Ray. Little, second grade Ray. His hair was cut short and you could barely tell its potential to ever be a complete fro. He wore a blue and white striped tee shirt and jeans. We were holding hands.

I remember the day the picture was taken. September seventh, our first ever day of school over ten years ago. My mom had taken the picture of us at the bus stop that day. I remember her saying how proud she was of her ‘little girl growing up so fast’ and telling Ray how one day he’d be ‘such a handsome young man’ even though we were still only six years old. I looked at the picture barely recognizing either of us yet still being able to recall it vividly, knowing that it was in fact me and Ray. You could see the friendship between us as we had on our biggest smiles. There was just something about the picture that screamed, they’re best friends! And it was amazing that we still were after all those years.

Even from before the first picture of us, there was something about our friendship that was different from the other kids. It was unconventional. One factor was the gender difference. Boys and girls being friends was almost unheard of in those days and we got a lot of shit for it, even then, but still we stuck with each other. We were called names and picked on, receiving every jeer and hearing every line to try and make us hate each other, but it was no use. We made it through the years of ridicule and bullying and we did it together. At this point he was part of my family and practically my second brother and there was nothing that could change that, not even the kiss.

Although it was awkward to be around him at first, things cleared up quickly between us. We’d gotten back into the natural swing of our friendship and it was almost as if it never happened. We were back to hanging out, alone, with no weird feelings getting in the way of us just relaxing and being friends again. Sure, he probably didn’t remember half the details about it that I did, considering how drunk he was, but I figured that I’d spare telling him about how he was mere inches away from some pretty serious stuff. I’d get over it eventually and as for him, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt.

I thought of how I was glad Ray and I could get over the kiss and move on from it with no hard feelings. I was happy that I wouldn’t lose my best friend over something so stupid, but then my thoughts found their way back to Bob. He still didn’t know about it and it was killing me. I kept telling myself it was stupid and irrelevant but something in me wanted to tell him, especially now that technically we were sleeping together. I felt almost guilty keeping this from him, but I didn’t know how to tell him. I kept telling myself that he’d be okay with it, but I still wasn’t sure. What if he wasn’t okay with it? What would he say? Would he still love me?

I choked up a little at this thought but fought back my tears and decided it was time to go to sleep. I put away the photograph album and shut off the light. I slid down in bed and pulled the sheets up to my neck. I could still smell the soap and cigarette mixture I’d come to associate with Bob on my bed sheets which made me even more anxious about telling him about the kiss or not. I’m not exactly sure when, but I soon felt my eyes getting heavy and I succumbed to sleep still thinking of Bob Bryar.

…

The next morning was brutal. I woke up at six am after only about two and a half hours of being dead to the world. I’d finally fallen asleep at around three in the morning and what little sleep I did get wasn’t very good. My dreams chased back and forth between Bob and Ray. I’d be having a fantastic dream of me and Bob being together, alone someplace then without warning it’d switch. Suddenly I’d find myself in Ray’s basement with him again, the events of Christmas Eve playing over and over again. It was like a nightmare. It was just eating at me too much, I needed to find a way to clear my head of this for good. I just didn’t know how to do that without someone getting hurt.

I sat up in bed and looked at my clock. I still couldn’t believe what a horrible night I’d had over something so stupid. Although, it was nothing compared to what Andy went through. When he was a toddler, he’d get these night terrors and would scream bloody murder at three in the morning. I felt bad for him but he always woke me up so in the moment I’d hated him. Looking back, I felt sorry for my brother. Fortunately he gotten past the stage of tremors when he was around six or so, but now, I felt like I knew a bit of what he’d gone through. At least, the aftermath.

Andy would always wake up the morning after having a night terror and you could just tell it was a good day to leave him alone. He' be exhausted and irritable and a little on edge. Right now, I felt the exact same way. I didn’t want to get out of bed but at the same time it was no use staying, it’s not like I’d fall back asleep or anything. I just sat there for a moment and evaluated my situation that had suddenly popped back into my head. I wanted to tell Bob about me and Ray but I couldn’t help but think it would do more harm than good.

I was afraid that if I told Bob he’d act different around me, that he might not trust me anymore. I mean it’s not like I was the one who came on to Ray, but I also didn’t stop him. And what about Ray? How would Bob react to him when he found out? Band rehearsal would be pretty awkward if the two of them weren’t on speaking terms. And not just band rehearsal, my whole life would be uncomfortable, just imagine how it would feel to have your boyfriend and your best friend disliking each other. Imagine being in the middle of that.

I knew I had to do something about it or at least talk to someone about it. One problem with that though; the one person I could talk to about it was not going to like me bringing it up.
I finally decided that I wasn’t in the mood to be thinking about this, so I threw off my blankets and got up to at least try to get ready for the day. I grabbed a towel and went to take a shower. When I got out I put my hair in a braid, seeing as since it was still only seven am, using the hair dryer would wake everyone up. I went into my closet and pulled out some jeans and a sweater and threw it on. I didn’t really have much to do for the day but I at least figured that getting properly dressed would help me to feel more awake. I’d be seeing the guys later, but not until the afternoon, so for now I was pretty much on my own.

All of a sudden I found myself thinking about something I hadn’t thought of in months. I wanted them, I wanted them bad. I’d thrown away all of my razors, all of my blades. I didn’t have a single one left. But now I wanted them all back, every single one of them. I wanted to go into the bathroom and just carve away at my skin. I wanted the sting of the metal sliding through my skin. I wanted the trail of blood to flow freely down my arm. I wanted to watch as all of my pain and conflict pooled up in the form of gore and see it wash down the drain. I wanted the burn of the alcohol on my open wound. I wanted another scar. I wanted to cut.

I couldn’t believe after all the months of happiness and fun I’d had with Bob, after quitting for the second time that those stupid pieces of metal were calling me back. I was weak, I was sad, I was pathetic. How easily I could relapse if only I had a blade. I snapped at my rubber band absent mindedly as I thought of all this. Just get a shaving razor, what’s one little cut? A voice in my head spoke out but I didn’t want to listen. Call Ray, another said, but I couldn’t, not after what happened between us. He was still my best friend, but I needed to get over this by myself.

I picked up a red pen on my desk and started to draw. I drew line after line along my forearm, right where my other scars were. I pretended the ink was blood, but it was no use. I wanted pain, I wanted to be hurt. I threw the pen down on my desk and continued to snap at my rubber band. I managed to calm myself down enough to finally stop. After five minutes my wrists were red and bruised. My skin stung and burned from the repetitive infliction. It wasn’t as good as a cut, but it would have to do.

I pushed the thought of my blades out of my mind and changed into a long sleeved zip-up hoodie. I went downstairs into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of orange juice. I sat down at the table and just stared. I traced my fingers along the grains of the wood, following the pattern that nature had carved out.I sipped at my juice as I slid my hands mindlessly along the top of the table. I was so focused on tracing my patterns that I hadn’t even noticed my dad standing over me. I jumped a little when I saw his shadow cast on the table then turned to look at him. “What are you doing, Max?” he asked as I awkwardly stopped touching the wood.

“Oh, morning, Dad. Uh, you know, just…looking at the table.” I answered.

“Because you’ve never seen it before.” He sarcastically replied. I shrugged and gave a half-assed smile. My dad looked at me strangely and asked, “Maxie, has something been bothering you lately? You and Ray have barely talked, you’ve been very quiet, and now you’re fascinated by the table. What’s wrong? Is it drugs?”

If there was ever a person on the planet who knew me better than I knew myself, it was my father. He read me like a book. He always knew when something wasn’t right, and he always knew exactly what to say. My dad never gave bad advice and never failed to make me feel better. In reality, he was probably the best person to talk to, besides Ray, about the kiss. But then again, it was my dad; he doesn’t want to hear about his daughter’s teenage problems and I’m not too sure how much I’d want to tell him.

“What? No, Dad, I’m not doing drugs. I’ve just been…stressed lately.” He gave me a look before sitting down and replying. “Stressed? Over what? You’re on school break and you’ve been seeing your friends. And what about Bob? You seem happy with him.”

“What about Bob?” I whispered to myself, thinking my dad hadn’t heard. I was wrong.
“Oh, this is about Bob. Max, I know you probably don’t want to talk to your dad about this, but I was a teenage boy once too. Believe it or not, I do remember a thing or two about what goes on with them. So if you want to talk you can, but I won’t force you.” My dad always knew just what to say. I looked at him and thought whether or not I wanted to confide in him. He would probably give really good advice, but I didn’t want to tell him about all of my…sexual prowls with Bob. Maybe I’ll keep some of the story to myself.

“Well,” I started. “You’re right, Bob makes me happy, really happy. I really like him and I like us. It’s kind of like, nothing could come between us and I feel like I can trust him, I just…I don’t know.” I wanted to just spit it out and tell my dad but I was having a hard time.

“Just what? Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?”

“No, no, he didn’t. He’s nothing but a gentleman. I might have been the one to do something wrong, but…I don’t know how to tell him. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” My dad gave me a look that encompassed both disappointment and pride. Weird, I know, but that was my dad, a strange yet comforting mix of emotions.

“Well, Max, I don’t know what you’ve done so I can’t say I’m disappointed, but if you’re feeling this bad about it, imagine how Bob would feel to find out from anyone beside you, the one he trusts most. If you really want my advice, I’d say tell Bob. If he’s truly a gentleman, he’ll understand. But I can’t imagine it being that bad, right?”

I looked at my dad assessing how hard it would be to just spit it out, and before I realized what I was doing I suddenly said, “Ray kissed me. At Christmas.” I paused for a second to let my dad ask any questions, but he remained silent and I continued. “He kind of got…a little…drunk and I tried to go upstairs to tell his parents but he wouldn’t let me leave, so I figured I would just let it wear off on its own, so I stayed with him. But then, you know. I just don’t know how to tell Bob. I don’t want to ruin ours or his and Ray’s friendship.” I stopped before I said too much and my dad spoke.

“Like I said Max, it’ll hurt Bob a lot more coming from someone else. But in this situation, I think it may be best to suck it up and go with Ray to tell him. Bob knows how much you care about him and I’m sure he feels the same. He’ll understand. As for him and Ray, it’ll take some time but things will work out. You just have to take the first initiative despite how hard it may be. I hope you’ll make the right choice.” And with that he took hold of my hand and gave it a light squeeze before standing and leaving the kitchen. I hope you’ll make the right choice, my dad’s signature line. I’d heard it a million times for all kinds of situations but it never failed to stick to my thoughts. He was right, I had to step up and make that right choice. I had to tell Bob.

…

“We need to tell Bob.” I said opening the door to the music shop. Ray looked up from the counter at me with wide eyes. I knew Ray didn’t want to say anything but I just couldn’t take the feelings of guilt anymore. And my dad was right, Bob should heard it from the both of us before it was too late. “Tell Bob what?” I suddenly heard, but not from Ray. I looked around to see Gerard step out of the back room with a few magazines in his hands. “Uh,” I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t imagine what Gerard was thinking and I couldn’t tell him the truth. “He, uh, needed a new thing, and it’s not here.”

“A new what?” Man, Gerard was nosey.

“Uh, I don’t know. Some…thing.” I was really struggling to hide my awkwardness and I wasn’t doing so great. Instead I decided to change the subject. “So, how’s the band?” Wow, what an original thing to talk about.

“Uh, good.” Gerard thankfully didn’t push the subject, I didn’t want to involve anyone that didn’t need to be. That would only make things worse. “We have practice today, are you coming?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I answered to Gerard before quickly turning to Ray, “Okay well, I’ll tell you that thing later.” I got awkward stares from both Gerard and Ray before turning on my heel and exiting the music store.

Notes

Hey-o so I didn't realize it until right now, but I posted last week's chapter three times!! Lawdy, sorry 'bout that! >.< Enjoy the reading, comment if ya wanna, send me a message, and I'll see you back here next week!!!