Lilly

Chapter 12

9th Grade - Lakeside High School

Lilly prepared for her first day of high school with enthusiasm, taking much longer than usual. She wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Though her normal clothing choices made her look like a gang slut, today she was going all out. By the time she finished her preparations, she knew she resembled the prostitute everyone thought she was, and she smiled.

At school, she walked through the senior hall, determination written on her face. Feeling like some kind of secret agent, she felt every eye watching her, and only needed to avoid being stopped by the teachers a little longer.

Her target in sight, she knew success lay only steps away, and she was excited. "Layton," she called.

The object of her call turned, as he heard his name, and she watched the smile stretch across his face, despite the scowl she wore. She'd never addressed him before, so she figured this was progress to his tiny mind. Her plan counted on that. As for Lilly's scowl, it wasn't an unusual expression for her, and evoked no concern from him.

"You ready for my lovin, sweet thing?" Full of himself, he eyed her up and down. He was one of the star football players, and a senior. She was a freshman, a peon. Lilly had overheard other girls say she should consider herself lucky, which only increased her anger.

She smiled as she sauntered up to him. Ender's Game had inspired her, in a profound way. If this came anywhere near success, Layton Kirk would learn all about it.

"Ah, baby, I'm glad you're finally coming to your senses. You ain't gettin nothin' better than me," he said, and she envisioned him singing the same line, over and over. She wondered how the crap wasn't spewing out of his ears, he was so full of himself.

"Bless your sweet little heart, sugarpie," she said, a docile smile plastered on her face, her southern accent even more pronounced than normal. Every girl within earshot was paying attention, even if they hadn't been before, as were a few boys. All good southern children knew the implications of what she'd said and how she'd said it. With her added inflectives, they further knew all hell was about to break loose on some poor fool.

"Layton, what did I tell you the last time you said I was yours, and you tried to...um...make out with me?" she asked, as she sidled up to him, and rubbed a finger along his jaw, before she placed her hands on his hips, with a firm grip. She put her right knee in the little gap between his legs, letting it rub. It was a gentle, seductive rub, but with intent.

Layton put his hand on her butt, as though he owned her. As much as she cringed at the contact, she allowed it, since it gave her the freedom to better position herself.

"I think it was too much for you, and all, considering who you were with, and you waited, so you could make sure you weren't dreaming," he said. His smugness further stoked her anger.

The fake smile melted off her face, and for the first time, he realized she wasn't there to give him what he wanted. It was too late for him, though. She was where she'd hoped to be, her right leg between his, her hands planted on his hips. His legs were even parted, just enough.

Now, her short, stretchy skirt came to meet its primary purpose, which was to give her legs freedom of movement. It also added to the slut factor she carried with her, which she'd counted on to get to her goal.

"Let me refresh your woefully feeble memory, you imbecilic buffoon," she said. She knew he was too dumb to understand the big words she'd just used, but other kids did.

Layton Kirk, being a senior football player, was taller than the average kid. Lilly Pimlott was a little shorter than average, even for a freshman. His height, and her lack, gave her the perfect placement to get every ounce of her strength behind her upward thrust. Her knee lifted into that soft, pillowy center, where she felt his 'stuff' crunch under the crushing contact. He fell, with an eerie moan.