Chapter 5

The girl in the drawing had Lizzie’s perfect smile, her twinkling eyes. She was mischievous and dramatic, and alive. In the picture I was holding her hand, both of us naked, on our knees, as Mr Roberts stood tall, his cock proud and ruler in his hand, about to land with a tap against his palm.

“I love it,” she said. “You are so cool, Hels. Sooo cool.”

She downed the last of her drink before pulling out her night clothes. I smiled at the faded cat print on her camisole. She’d been wearing that since we were in primary, only once it had been a nightdress. She undressed in front of me without the slightest awkwardness, brazen and bold, as though the picture itself had come to life. Through tipsy eyes I admired the girl I’d been drawing so accurately. Her tits were bigger than mine, her nipples darker against pale skin. Hers were perky, and bounced when she ran, unlike my little teenager breasts that I bulked out with padding. Her hips were curvy and her ass was cute, and the dark hair between her legs was so much more tame these days. Boys had seen to that. Namely one boy. Emo boy. Scottie Davis.

She pulled up a pair of frilly white panties, and checked herself out in my dressing table mirror. “Height of fashion,” she smirked. “Check me out, Hels. Aren’t I a hottie?”

“I am checking you out.” I smiled. “You look cute.”

“You’re the cute one,” she said. “Nobody would ever guess what a dirty little cow you are.” She tapped her lips. “My secret. Promise.”

She offered out a hand and pulled me to my feet, wrapping her arm around my waist and making me stand beside her. Our reflections stared out at us, and in the lamplight I looked so much more innocent than her with her edgy little pigtails and smoky eyes.

“I’m boring next to you.”

“No way,” she said. “Don’t be a crazy bitch. You’re so beautiful, Helen.”

She brushed the hair from my face, chocolate brown tendrils of standard shoulder-length hair. My eyes were hazel, not bright blue like hers, and my mouth was not nearly so pouty or dramatic. I had a nice nose, and a cute enough face, and my eyebrows were thick and naturally shaped without the crazy plucking routine Lizzie endured, but she was dramatic, and hot, and different, and I was, well, Helen. Just Helen.

Why would a man like Mr Roberts go for someone ordinary? Pretty, yeah, I guess I was pretty enough. But I was ordinary on the outside, not attractive and outgoing like Lizzie.

“Best friends forever,” she announced.

“Only friends forever,” I laughed. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” She slapped my ass. “Bed time.”

Her hands found the hem of my t-shirt, as though she was taking care of me in my drunkenness, even though she was easily as gone as I was. She yanked it over my head and I took down my jeans. I unhooked my bra and grabbed my nightdress quickly, pulling it on while Lizzie’s eyes stared at me in the mirror.

“I can get the airbed?” I offered.

She pulled a face. “Since when have I ever, ever needed the airbed?”

I wrapped my arms around her neck, pulled her in for a hug. “Thanks for being my friend, even though I embarrassed myself beyond all redemption. And thanks for the vodka, too.”

“Anytime.”

We washed up in tandem in the bathroom, like we’d done a million times before, and it was comfortable, so comfortable. I was glad she was there in my hour of humiliation. Really glad. She slid into bed first, as always, and I got the lamp. I only had a single; the same white wooden frame I’d had since I was a girl who wanted to live in a princess castle, with the same doodles of butterflies in glittery felt tip. I should grow out of it, one day, but I still liked it. I slipped between the sheets and Lizzie adjusted herself at my side, resting her head against my shoulder.

“I hope we still do this at uni,” she said. “Of course. Always.”

“Do you think you’ll really be sad, when we get there? Without him, I mean.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I lied. “Maybe there’ll be a hot weirdo arty student out there for me, after all.” “Do you ever think it could happen? For real? You and Mr Roberts?”

I smiled into the darkness, a sad smile. “Yeah, right. As if.”

“I’m serious,” she whispered. “Why wouldn’t it? I think he looks at you, you know. Sometimes.”

“I don’t even have time to list all the reasons why it wouldn’t happen, and you’re making it up. He’s my teacher. He doesn’t feel like that.”

“You don’t know that! So, he’s your teacher, but what about when he’s not?”

“I might never even see him again. He might have a girlfriend. A stunning arty girlfriend. He’s probably got one of those. At

least one of those.”

“You know that’s crap. You know the rumours.” “If the rumours are true then I’m screwed anyway.”

“I don’t think he’s gay. I think that’s just stupid kid talk.”

“I hope not.” I took a breath. “But I could live with bi. I could live with just about anything. I’d like bi. Crap, I’m really drunk.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being bi, Hels,” she whispered. “You’d like him to be dirty, wouldn’t you? Really dirty.” Her tone made my heart flutter. I was so glad we were in darkness.

“…just think about it. In the art block, late, you’re painting and he comes up behind you… presses against your back… his warm breath on your neck…”

The hair on my arms prickled.

“…you can feel him… his hard cock against your ass, his fingers tracing up your thigh, pulling up your school skirt… Mr Roberts’ dirty fingers between your legs…”

I shifted in bed, and she snaked an arm across my waist.

“…I think he’d be good… I think he’d know just how to touch you… I think he could make you come, standing in his arms, just like that, maybe he’d make you moan for him, make you tell him how good it felt. Maybe he’d grab your hair, hold you still while his fingers pushed their way inside. Do you think he’d be rough? I think he’d be rough… You’d like him to be rough, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes…” My voice was barely a whisper. “Yes… I’d like him to be rough… you know I’d like him to be rough…”

“I think he’d take you hard. I think he’d fuck hard and deep. I think he’s dirty, too. You can see it in his eyes, he’s so… dark… so… deep… I think he’d make you do all kinds of dirty things…”

And she had me. “Like what?” I breathed. “What do you think he’d make me do?”

Her ankle hooked around my calf. “I think he’d fuck you so hard it would hurt. I think he’d say filthy things… I think he’d call you his bad little girl... Maybe he’d tie you up… take you however he wanted… maybe he’d make you pay for your dirty thoughts… maybe he’d spank you… bend you over his knee in your school skirt and make it sting… I’ve seen those steel rulers in the art block, Hels…” She giggled against my neck. “Maybe he’d use one of those… naughty girl…”

My breath hitched, and the giggles in my throat disappeared, vanished into nothing.

“I know you’d like that… I know you’d like to be over his knee… I know you’d like him to tell you how much of a naughty girl you are…”

“I am bad…” I rasped. “I am dirty…”

“You like it,” she teased, and her leg coaxed mine open. “You’ve always been dirty… I think he’d like that…” “Oh God, Lizzie, I want him. I want him to make me bad…”

“I know,” she whispered. “I know what you want…”

“I’m so crazy about him I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the thought of never touching him, of never feeling him touch me…” “Imagine his mouth… imagine his tongue… shit, Helen, can you imagine his hot lips around your nipples? His tongue

flicking at you…” She giggled as her palm gazed my breast, but it wasn’t funny. “It’s ok,” she whispered. “Touch yourself, I don’t mind. We’re best friends forever, Hels, we can share anything. Anything, I promise.” A little giggle, coaxing me. “Tell me what you want him to do to you…”

I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. But my hand was already between my legs, slipping inside my panties. “Oh God, Lizzie, I want him to fuck me…”

“Yes…”

“I want him to be rough… I want him to lose control… I want him to tie me up, until I can’t move… I want to beg him to take me… I want to hear him come… I want to hear him moan… I want to taste him…”

“He could teach you… teach you dirty…”

“Yes… that’s what I want… God, yes…” My fingers circled my clit, slowly, trying to hide it. “I want to feel his mouth… I want him to spread me open… I want him to see me… all of me…”

“He’d suck on your naughty little pussy, you know that? He’d suck your clit so hard you’d come against his face…” “Yes…”

“And then he’d take you… hard… I think he’d take your ass, too… I think he’d want that… especially if the rumours are true… shit, can you imagine taking him in your ass… that’s got to hurt…”

I had nothing but breath.

“Would you let him fuck you there?”

I nodded into the darkness and my fingers sped up.

“Would you ask him to fuck you there? Imagine if he made you beg for it… or maybe he’d tie you up and give you no choice… just like your pictures…”

Ragged breath, and I was squirming.

“Maybe that’s what you want… no choice… maybe you just want him to take you… however he wants… he could fuck you so hard…”

“Yes…”

“Imagine kissing him, Helen… imagine his tongue in your mouth…” “I want to kiss him so bad…”

“Show me… show me how you’d kiss him…” Her breath was in my face. “Pretend I’m him… show me…”