The Rent Boy (EDITING)

Chapter Two: An Unusual Blow-

    Being inside a school building again caused a nervous shiver to skitter up and down my body. Added with the fact that I was about to go wank off a teenager in a classroom, well, I guess it was pretty safe to say that I was more than a little worried. Sure I was excited at first, but that seemed to wither and die once I realised exactly where I was and what I was about to do. It was crazy.

    I didn't know if I'd rather stick to the usual perverts I get on the streets, or high school boys who constantly look you up and down and judge everything about you, right down to the way you walk. Shit, I'd never been this much on edge, with the exception of my first couple nights on the job.

    The corridor I was walking down seemed endless. I had the directions mapped out in my mind: straight down the hall, last door on the left. The soles of my shoes were tapping against the laminate flooring, echoing around the empty space I was half-walking, half-jogging down.

    I just wanted to get it over with, but at the same time I didn't want it to happen at all. I guess you never really got over the feeling of being judged when you were around lads your age and it'd been quite a while since I was, which made it so much worse.

    My feet halted automatically outside a navy-painted door. My fingers twitched to pull the handle down and step in, but I hesitated. Quickly brushing my fingers through my hair and giving myself a swift slap to the face with a sharp thought of: come on, Ash, stop being a pussy, I finally pushed the door open. No way I could back out now.

    I knew what I had to do. The guy I'd met with had told me who to say I was, how to act, roundabout what to say. All I had to do was get in, play my part, wank him off, and then meet him back at the gates for the other half of my money. Simple. Fucking simple.

    My eyes instantly jumped towards the only other person entertaining the small classroom, as I closed the door behind me. He was standing by the front desk, a book laid across the middle of the work-space with a pen resting atop of the right page. He looked as if he was about to sit down, but straightened himself out as he was interrupted by my sudden appearance.

    I gave him a shy smile. I'd completely forgotten everything. My mind had turned to nothing but a blank piece of paper. I couldn't even remember what the fuck I was doing here.

    “Can I help you?” he asked me, his voice mimicking the confused look that possessed my features. That was all it took to kick my brain back into gear, fixing the rules in my head and what I'd been told to do. Who to be. I didn't need to act shy because, fuck, I already was.

    I shoved my hands in my pockets, walking forward timidly. A small smile still loose on my lips. I reached the edge of the desk, trailing my index finger along the surface and stopping just in front of him. My eyes glanced down at the book, neatly placed on the table. I could see fancy, cursive handwriting. Couldn't make out any of the words, since the pages were upside down. Doubt it was anything interesting, anyway.

    The guy cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to what I was here for. My eyes bolted up to meet ones that were a dark shade of brown. They looked honest, a little suspicious but more curious than anything. Against the light blue colour of my eyes, his seemed intimidating, however I still managed to force a smirk, projecting confidence that made the guy's brows lower slightly.

    Keeping the conversation to a minimum––because honestly, I think if I tried to speak, it'd come out unconvincing and with a stutter––I brushed the back of my fingers up his shirt and beneath the material of his leather jacket, wrapping a tight grip around the collar.

    His eyes were staring down at my hand with confusion, but I think he already knew what I was going to do next, as he took the first step backwards, towards the whiteboard behind him. Yet he still asked the question, “What're you doing?”