Girl Psycho

Under the radar (Hope)

I couldn't concentrate or think about anything else that day other than Matt, and who the hell he might be. I was an idiot for not doing a proper background check on him. Sloppy. Before talking to anyone, I always checked up on them. You can never truly know a person...

For example, I can tell you that Geraldine's mother was arrested and detained for one night when she was at university for participating in a political rally and spray painting "Apartheid must Fall" on the side of a government building. She seems to have given up her hippie, protest ways in favor of car pooling, puffy blow dried hair and pearl necklaces. I can also tell you that our neighbor has three DUI's and that Anderson's dad was accused of insider training, but never convicted. He does however have a secret bank account in the Cayman islands that did get a strange injection of cash round about the same time, something the IRS clearly missed.

My carefully woven subterfuge is only kept intact through great planning and preparation. Like a chess master, it is my job to predict what everyone else is thinking, and what their next move might be. The last thing I need it to be cornered, and checkmate... I'm dead. My main strategy revolves around associating with the right people, the last thing I need is to draw undue attention to myself based on the company I keep.

That's why I've stayed away from fellow classmate Suzana Bogdanovic, for example. Seems that Mr. Bogdanovic is quite the king-pin in Croatian organized crime. They might not have noticed it yet, but seems the police are following him and his family around trying to build up a case. I overheard it in the station once and have seen the "TV repair van" parked across the road from their house. We live on the same block. You see, I would hate to have been the friend she was seen shopping with at that jewelry store with daddy's thick wad of cash that the shop helps him launder money through. The last thing I would want was to be called in to testify against them. The last thing I would want is for any spotlight to be shinned on me that would require any law enforcement to run a background check on me and my mother. We wouldn't want the world knowing who my daddy is, and who we really are.

I do find it comforting to know that everyone seems to have a little secret, though. It's the putrid rot that grows on the dank, dark underbelly of suburbia. Scratch the surface just a little bit, and God knows what you might find. But I needed to find out about Matt now.

Matt Sanders, Matt Sanders what the hell are you up to Matt Sanders?

I followed him into the library, he didn't notice me at all. I lurked in the non-fiction section as I watched him pretend to work on his brand new, top-of-the-range Apple Mac, while he was actually fucking around on his brand new, top- of- the -range I-Phone. And when he was done, he walked to his brand new top of the range Porsche. He had parked the lavish red thing at the very back of the school parking lot. I guess he didn't like parking his shiny car next to all the others.

A very quick internet search furnished me with a few facts. His dad is Ted Sanders, a well-known politician with very conservative views and deeply religious ways. His wife heads up about a million Christian charity foundations and the family looked like it prided themselves on strong, upright values. But when I delved a little deeper, I discovered the family secret that they were trying to conceal.

Debt. Shitloads of it. Rolling in debt, up to their eyeballs in debt. But Matt was driving that? Another quick search showed me that his dad drove a middle of the range Merc, while mom drove an middle of the range SUV. Nothing to sneeze at, but nothing like the new Porsche 911 Turbo S Cabriolet starting at a mere $200, 000.

And on further, closer inspection I was looking at a Limited Edition, Gold Plated Apple watch too, at $15, 000. Apple Mac at $2, 500 and phone at about $1,400.

Was Matt the reason the family was on the brink of bankruptcy? In my experience, parents who spend that much money on their kids are feeling guilty about something. So what was this family guilty of?

I climbed into my car and tried to follow Matt to his house, but my car couldn't keep up with his, as he drove way-too-fast, and way too recklessly through the quite suburban streets. It was only by sheer accident that I saw him again when I pulled into a gas station. I watched as he climbed out and had a quick look around before disappearing behind the building to the public toilets.

Buying drugs? A gay hangout for a quick afternoon fuck? Disposing of a murder weapon?

I parked my car and walked in the direction of the toilets, but as I rounded the corner I felt someone grab me and shove me against the wall. His hand came up to my mouth and covered it, presumably so I wouldn't scream. I don't scream in situations like this, though.

He pressed my back into the wall and his body collapsed on mine. Face-to-face we stared at each other. Our eyes locked. Matt stared at me and something very familiar glinted in his eye. I had seen this look before. I had seen it in the eyes of every predator I had ever encountered... only this time, it was doing something to me. He grabbed my arms and raised them over my head and then his lips came down on mine, hard.

The second they touched mine I responded by kissing him back. Fuck! The kiss was angry, and hungry and painful and the hottest thing I had ever experienced in my life before. I fought his restraints on my arms and broke free, I pushed him back and slammed his back into the wall, still kissing. He grabbed my hair and yanked my head back and licked my neck. I lifted my leg and wrapped it around his. He grabbed it under my knees and pulled it up around him, and then the other leg, and he had picked my whole body up off the ground.

His hands wandered up my skirt and he grabbed my ass and ground me into him. I moaned and arched my body backward. We heard a voice behind us as a man emerged from the bathroom. Matt released me and we backed away from each other.

We stayed there, staring at each other for a few minutes while our heart rates and breathing returned to normal. We didn't say a word to each other. I finally turned, walked back to my car, climbed in, started the ignition and drove off leaving Matt standing there looking after me.