Chapter 13 - What's Going On With Her
Finally I get to know 'what's going on' with Rachelle. We're sitting in my sister's living room at midday, after a late brunch of pancakes and orange juice. No coffee... I'll hold off on that drink for a while. Along with another drink...
Kate and Chev went to on a date they'd been planning for centuries, to an ice skating rink and invited Rachelle and I to go 'as double dates'. I was about to decline when Rachelle said 'yeah, I'd love to!' With a stunned look I had been about to object when she'd spoken again. 'But I can't, because I have to babysit a little later.'
Shocked, I'd said goodbye to my sis and brother-in-law. Kate said I was not allowed to leave the house until the mess was cleaned. With a sigh, I obliged.
Now it's bordering 1 o'clock and Rachelle's sitting on the couch with a curious look on her face, legs crossed, palm placed on one leg, and with a stunning close-mouthed smile. I just got done picking up all the broken pieces of Kate's vase and cleaning up the kitchen with Rachelle and now there was a subject I wanted to breach...
"So our deal," I say, walking over to the sofa. It's not easy sitting as far from her as possible as I planned because she's sitting exactly in the middle.
She just looks at me sweetly. "Alright, I enjoyed our exquisite date so I will tell you, Richard."
With a look of anticipation and concern, I clasp my hands together and lean forward on my knees. I wait for her to tell me but she just remains silent, as if tongue tied and gazing at me. "Well..." I say softly.
"Oh," she sighs harshly in innocent shame and looks at me apologetically. "It all started when I was sixteen... I was on the bus ride home like every normal day only it was extremely cold for the time. I had forgotten my jacket at home. This new girl appeared to me and handed me a soft, flannel jacket and started talking to me about random stuff, weird stuff, but I was so ecstatic. I was Rachel Mitchelson, nerd Freshman, who never even got a date with the ugliest kid in school, let alone the coolest."
"Wait, your name is Rachel?" I ask.
She narrows her eyes at me... "Yes, I got it changed when I was 13, cause mother never really calls me Rachel. May I continue?"
"Yeah..." I mutter, focusing intently.
"So there I was talking to Miranda Anderson-"
"Miranda Anderson!" I exclaim, despite myself.
"Yes, Richard Miss Mohawk Miranda Anderson," she replies giving me a stern look.
I blush and tell her to continue and she smiles, placing her hand on mine before continuing. I don't know what to think about that... a simple gesture and it should warm me. But it doesn't. Her hand is ice cold.
"Anyways, she offered to take me to a party that week and to take me shopping for it. Telling her I couldn't afford the clothes, she told me no worries and said she'd pay for it all, as long as I promised to go the party. So I agreed. So I went to the party... and after that, I never wore glasses again. Or cardigans... or anything more than the simple bare necessities. Now I'm the hottest girl in school and every guy loves me."
I narrow my eyes and think carefully on this 'cliff notes' version of the story she gave me. So... she went to a party and got popular ever since? There's something missing...
"There's something you're not saying," I say, truly concerned.
She cocks her head sideways with that grin of hers. "What? You don't believe that a nerdy girl can get popular overnight?"
"Well... with you it's possible." I admit. "But it doesn't make sense. Can you really change that fast? I've been a nerd since... I was born wearing glasses with a physics book in one hand and a thermometer gauge in the other. You? You were born naked."
She bites her lips at that and lowers her eyelashes, getting the gyst. I blush at my upfrontness and wait for her to look at me again. She doesn't. Instead there's a cool friction on my hand and I notice her hand caressing mine gently.
"Who cares about my past anyways?" She sighs and scoots a bit closer to me on the sofa. I almost wince at expecting her to pull something, but she doesn't. "I'm not that girl anymore... that unpopular, ugly, awkward girl from That 70's Show. I'm Rachelle Mitchelson, high school diva, her science teacher's girlfriend."
I freeze at that and open my mouth to object, I have many reasons to object, until she puts one single polished finger on my lips. Her eyes slowly turn towards mine and we share a silent gaze, so long that intense flickers of heat shoot up my neck and lock up my throat. My breathing is constricted and I can't think. All I can see are her neverending pools of midnight blue, practically black, and her subtle smile that is definitely more alluring than sweet. I can't seem to look away. I want to tell her that she's not my girlfriend... that I don't like her and what she's done. But I don't. I'm locked in this invisible ties that bind us together.
Then... before I know it.
Her lips are on mine, soft and teasing. I feel myself breaking down, giving in to the simple bodily pleasures over my rational thinking. It's just a kiss... I convince myself. Yeah, a kiss with your girlfriend...
Sure, I feel a bit of pride at thinking of Rachelle Mitchelson as my girlfriend. My first girlfriend EVER. She doesn't need to know that. Whom I shared my first kiss with... and first date. And drank liquor first. And got drunk for the first time! A lot of firsts... Now I'm doing another first. I'm acting against my thinking, the thought that says STOP KISSING HER AND GET A GRIP, MATE! And I just enjoy the moment... taking her lips gently in mine. I'm not bold enough to go any further she does.
Her lips on mine start moving a bit faster and so I mimic the motion, trying not to get ahead of myself and screw the moment up with awkward inexperience. Her tongue slides across my upper lip and my breath hitches at the tingling sensation, and before I know it (world famous phrase by: nerdy science teacher)... My tongue is mingling with hers and we're both kissing very deeply.
After we both got accustomed to each other's mouths and I got very comfortable with kissing her, she does the unexpected, unwanted thing, and pulls away. I stifle a low growl in my throat and look at her puzzled, probably with hazed eyes. She just smiles and lifts her hands up, taking my glasses off. "That's better," she purrs and though my vision is blurred she looks crystal clear, etched in my memory perfectly. Bronze skin, purple pinkish lips moist and pouty, dimples in her cheeks when she smiles wide enough, the glimmer in her black as midnight eyes.
I get so entranced that when she leans in towards me I feel disappointment, I want to look at her a bit longer and admire her. But what she does next is definitely better... That low growl comes to the surface, a gentle, moist tug on my neck. Her cold hand trails to the back of my neck and she grabs a few waves of my hair, tugging gently. I feel my eyes fluttering shut as she performs wonders on my skin, leaving me with a racing heart and the body of a Phantom Rider.
I feel pressure on the front of my shirt and I open my eyes in curiosity. I notice she unbuttoned the top of my shirt. Alarmed, I reach my hand up and grip her wrist firmly, but gently, and I shake my head. "No," I mutter in a husky voice. It's just a kiss, remember? No clothes removing... that could only lead to one thing. Stupid, stupid. You really expected her to want you and not just your body?!"
I expect her to look hurt, angered, or try to seduce me further like she had during detention... Surprisingly, she doesn't try any of those. Instead she shrugs like it was no big deal and brings her lips to my jaw and chin, being very gentle. I find my grip on her wrist gradually releasing, and instead of my right hand falling limply to the side, it rises to cup the back of her neck and entwine in her deep brown waves, pulling her closely to me.
I don't know how long it's been... a minute or two? With Rachelle, everything feels sluggish and spacy, but racy and fast at the same time. My breath is completely gone from me and there's a strong urge on my dried lips to take hers in mine again. She's been taking her time in exploring my neck, jaw, my ear, the strangest places I didn't know could be erotic until now. Finally, too heated up and pressured to resist any longer, I pull away gently and lean in to mold our lips together.
Our kiss is more heated this time, my heart is beating way too fast and furious; my palms are sweating; my senses are racing wildly. I'm a little awkward at first, but slowly I find my tongue and lips adjusting to her speed and rhythm with ease. As if she can sense that, her kisses became a little more urgent which lead me to press a little harder and pry a bit deeper. I can't find myself holding back any longer. Our kisses become shorter, harsher, and hectic.
"Ow, shite," I muttered in pain, momentarily breaking away from her. I bring two finger up to my tongue and see crimson. She bit me!
She just stares at my tongue with widened eyes and mutters, "Sorry!"
Suddenly she can't control herself and she goes way overboard. With strong palms she presses me harshly into the sofa and kisses me so lustily and passionately I find myself getting dizzy. I can't find myself to resist even as the pain of my tongue and the flavour of iron mixes with our kisses. I can hear and feel her moaning vibrating against my lips as she presses her lips so hard on mine and sucks so hard my lips actually start hurting. For a moment it turns me on to such an extent I can't focus on anything but her... until I sense a strange desperation from her. I try to pull away but she's stuck on me. She's firmly fixed like stone and she's not going anywhere.
With a grunt I try to pull her hands away from my shoulders and barely manage for them to move. She doesn't seem phased at all and is still practically attacking my mouth. I can barely get a second in to breathe and end up feeling very light headed. If she doesn't stop for at least a second I'll pass out. So with resolution, I try to get her to move again and with a great struggle, succeed in pushing her away just enough for me to look at her face and speak.
I gasp from relief and am about to speak when I am stunned, in shock from the expression on her face. Her eyes look pitch black, the pupil blending with the irises, and her jaw is quivering intensely with her harsh panting. And she looks like she had just taken a sample of a very potent aphrodisiac. Normally I would find an attractive, panting woman sitting on top of me a majour turn on... As it is, that feeling of desperation is seeping into my every pore. I breathe deeply and harshly, staring at her for a while to see if she tries anything else. I then notice her eyes are not even looking at me. They're looking lower, at my lips, and very hungrily.
"Rachelle?" I ask in that same husky, now breathless, voice.
She doesn't seem to hear me... She's still staring at my lips.
"Rachelle..." I say a little louder, and she narrows her eyes, possibly intrigued by the movement of my lips while I speak. "What's going on?!" I shout, not caring for our intimate situation any longer. She is scaring the shit out of me with her distant self.
My exclaim makes her blink and snap out of whatever mood she was in. Suddenly she smiles sweetly and looks up at my eyes. "Sorry, hon'. I, uh... took it too far, didn't I? I forgot that you're a virgin."