Page 50 of Don’t Go Stealing My Heart

Yeah. Right. Privacy. He wanted privacy, right? To be alone with fairy-tale Charlotte and her sunshine hair.

Her nails and dress were candy-floss pink, her lips plump and shiny. She licked them. The wetter her lips looked, the drier his mouth became. He stopped once, ached to adjust his pants. She would for sure see how turned on he was, and thoughts of hairy moles didn’t help. Each shift of his fly over his erection made it worse. Oblivious to his discomfort and mild panic, she took his hand and led him into the girl’s bathroom, right into the handicapped stall.

She closed the door and faced him. “Undo your pants.”

Pants? Wasn’t there supposed to be kissing? “Wh-wh-what?”

She rolled her wrist as impatiently as she often rolled her eyes. “I want to see it.”

“My…”

“Yes, Jack. Your dick. Don’t be such a prude.”

He forced a swallow, couldn’t stop looking at her lips.

She focused on the stall door, like she didn’t want to look at him. Her chin trembled. “Just hurry up already. I don’t wanna miss the last dance.”

Something felt off—her chin wobble, her rushing. He sensed her discomfort, wanted to ask about it, but talking would ruin the moment and so much blood was flowing south, away from his brain. Penis. Charlotte. Touching. These were the only sureties he could grasp, and he wanted the grasping to occur. He’d pictured this moment enough to blind himself. There was always kissing first, but there’d been skin, too—hers, his, theirs. He’d dirtied many a sock in the imagining.

Now it was here. It was happening.

Too shocked to coordinate his hands, he fumbled with his zipper, shaking like a pathetic leaf.

Charlotte made an aggravated sound. “Just…stop. Let me.”

She reached for him as a squeak and shuffle came from outside their stall, then running water. A girl must be there, doing her makeup or washing her hands. Charlotte didn’t pause, and his body shuddered. He couldn’t think beyond how good she felt. Those soft hands on his boxers. The smallest brush made his penis jump, more blood rushed. She pulled his cotton waistband down, barely grazed him, more sounds invaded…then he blacked out.

No. Fuck. Not blacked out. Worse than blacked out. He came in a rush all over Charlotte’s hands and dress, the length of him spasming with the release. That was when he heard the laughter, the holy fucks not even covered with a cough.

Then a rat fell.

Charlotte yelped and spread the cum in her hands all over his shirt, smearing it as she tried to get away from him and the rat. She looked as shocked as he felt, except she didn’t have a dick hanging out of her pants while someone above cackled.

16

“Charlotte ran screaming for the exit,” Jack said, his voice hard and quiet. “I stood there, filthy, pants undone, while the D Squad hooted and whistled and high-fived each other. I was mortified, and so pissed I didn’t realize it was a prank from the start. I should’ve known Charlotte wouldn’t go for a guy like me.”

Jack was quiet awhile, his dreadful story lingering between them. Clementine wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but she looked at his teenage room with new eyes. She pictured a skinny boy with hunched shoulders and flayed self-esteem hiding under his covers, mortified to leave his room. His model airplane collection had probably grown. He’d probably aced every test, studied instead of socializing. Her heart pinched.

She maneuvered so she was cross-legged facing him. “What they did was beyond horrible.”

He released a long, slow exhale. “It was, and it hurts to talk about it, but it was sixteen years ago. I’ve moved on. And if it had been a bunch of friends, it wouldn’t have been a big deal.”

She squinted, replayed his words, but nope…he still sounded like he was excusing his bullies. “I hope you’re kidding me right now.”

He shrugged. “Guys play pranks. Dropping a rat on a friend while someone’s giving him a hand job could be funny.”

“But they weren’t your friends, Jack. They were assholes and that Charlotte bitch should be sent to colonize Mars.”

His lips twitched. “Or Uranus.”

She barked out a laugh.

He frowned. “That sounded better in my head.”

“Like when we met and you asked if I wanted to connect on Snap that Chat?”

His smile was self-deprecating. “Just like that.”