FRIDAY'S GIRL

Chapter 8

From the moment April entered the kitchen, I knew I couldn't miss this opportunity, one I had been eagerly waiting for. I watched her reflection in the mirror above the sideboard, where we kept the dishes and cutlery. With the patience of a hunter, as she returned laden with glasses of water, I used my healthy foot to move the crutch resting in the corner of the table. It was just a few inches, enough for my classmate to trip over it.

I had been looking for an excuse to get her up from her seat for a while. Thirst and water were the key. The idea struck me suddenly. It killed two birds with one stone: making her trip and, simultaneously, if my calculations were correct, ending up soaked "because of her." The initial plan was for her to fall into my arms to initiate a kiss, but ending up wet was a much more interesting outcome. I couldn't suppress a wicked smile as the poor innocent fell into my trap.

"I'm really sorry, Brad, I truly didn't mean to." Her sincere words hit me like a kick in the stomach, as if I were the worst person in the world for taking advantage of her kindness; though guilt didn't win the battle.

Now we were going up the stairs together, and every step brought me closer to my goal. She walked beside me, oblivious to what was coming, while I maintained a facade of indifference, as if going to my bedroom with a girl was the most normal thing in the world.

"Careful!" April shouted when I feigned a stumble upon reaching the second floor. Her arms grabbed me by the waist to prevent my fall. I felt her small breasts pressed against my abdomen and the floral scent of her hair. It surprised me that she smelled so pleasantly.

"I'm still not used to the crutches," I lied without blinking, moving away from her just as my groin began to swell again.

"Which one is your room?"

"It's that one over there." I pointed with my index finger towards the only door with a sign that read: "danger, do not enter."

Finally, we stopped in front of my bedroom, right where I wanted her to be. I opened the door with one hand and let her enter first, savoring the victory. April Storm was in my territory, she had fallen into my trap, becoming unknowingly a part of my revenge.

After closing the door behind us, I felt a surge of satisfaction. Everything was going smoothly, and I didn't need to rush or I'd give myself away too quickly; I had to control myself to make things happen "naturally."

"Would you mind getting a clean shirt from the closet?" I asked innocently, leaving the crutch against the wall.

"Of course." April hurried to carry out the task, as if she was used to taking care of others, while I sat on the bed and watched her, licking my lips.

I had managed to manipulate her without much difficulty, and now I needed to be careful not to scare her. I needed to project a helpless image so she would lower her defenses. I started by taking off my shirt, pretending it got stuck on my ears and I was unable to remove it myself.

"Let me help you," she offered, struggling with me to "free" me from the fabric.

"Sorry, the medication has me a bit dazed." The excuse sounded fake even to me, though I enjoyed the embarrassment reflected on her feminine face when her gaze landed on the muscles of my torso.

"Here." April threw me the clean garment and looked away uncomfortably. Then, I proceeded to put on the shirt as calmly as possible. I savored every second of her embarrassment!

"Did you read the article about cats playing the piano?" she asked when her eyes fell on an old photo of me, hugging Mr. Spock, a furry, docile, and chubby Siamese; I sensed my classmate was desperate to find a topic of conversation to break the ice.