The Day After He Killed Himself

Chapter 07

I didn't drive home, I didn't want to talk to anyone right now. I just drove down the everlasting highway as the music blasted. I tried desperately to drain out all thoughts but how could I?

The whole school was talking about me. They thought I was either being pitted by Gray or he was settling for me. I don't know which is worse but why can't a guy just like me? Is that really too much to ask?

I'm not one to constantly throw myself a pity party for myself, but I think this time I'll allow it.

I wouldn't even care about what people thought so much, but what if it's true? What if Gray doesn't really like me and is just trying to get laid, or is doing Logan a favor, or even just pulling some kind of suck joke on me?

No matter what the true reason one thing was for sure, I was definitely not going to the football game tonight.

It was ten o'clock on a Friday night, and I - a senior - was sitting at home alone, eating cheese puffs in my pajamas.

Part of me wished I went to the game, even if it was just to hang out with my friends and not Gray. Although I knew everyone would be staring at me, watching me, judging me. Even if they weren't it would still feel like that to me.

But if I did go, and if I did meet up with Gray, I wondered what would have happened. Would he take me to the football after party? Would we sit under the bleachers, or maybe on the fifty yard line once everyone left? Would we have our perfect storybook night?

And just like that my mind took off and I started imagining everything that could have been.

Gray, running his hands through my hair, telling me how he feels about me, how he really does like me. Then his hand would move to my check and his perfect heart shaped lips would meet mine. My hand would slip underneath his shirt and run up his glorious abs. I would rip his shirt off and he would do the same to mine. He would press me down against the football turf and I would feel his body press up against mine. His body heat making me so hot, or maybe that was because of the fact that his hands were squeaking my breasts or that his dick was growing and pressing up against me.

I started moaning, not just in my fantasy but in real life. I sat on my bed, eyes closed and legs rubbing against each other as I let my imagination run wild.

Mabye now is a good time to tell you that I'm a huge romantic, though I'm seventeen and never had sex, or a kiss, or even a boyfriend.

I was as pure as they come, or at least outside of my head I was.

I was still daydreaming about how Gray Anderson would kiss my neck and whisper soft things in my ear as his hands slipped down into uncharted territory.

I moaned some more as my own hands went to some places on myself. I felt myself get a little wet but I was sadly pulled out of my pleasurable dreams by a knock at my front door.

My brother was at the football game and my mom was working a night shift at the hospital so it was just me who was home.

I walked downstairs in nothing but an overgrown white 'I heart NYC' t-shirt and black panties that were just covered.

I expected a mailman, my brother, my mom, a freaking girl scout even. Anyone but who was actually at my doorstep.

You guessed it, when I opened the door, there stood dreamy Gray Anderson. I was so shocked I thought this could just be part of a dream or me fantising again, but no it was real. Much too real.

"Hey." He spoke quiet and even a little sad. I focused on his lips when he talked and wondered how amazing they must taste.

"Hey." I practically choked out. "What are you doing here?"