The lunch rush wasn't so much a rush that day as it was a drag. A total and complete drag. Time was dragging. The whole whopping three customers were dragging their way out the door. Maria was dragging behind on her work, because she just wasn't into it. Her plan had been to spend the afternoon with Dylan until she'd gotten called in to work. So here she was, covering for Agnes, watching the clock tick ahead at micro-speed, wishing she were somewhere else.

It was hard to keep her mind on what she was doing. She kept thinking back to last night, kept visualizing it in her mind: Michael's head nestled firmly between her legs, his eyes closed as he alternated between kissing and licking the most sensitive part of her. The best part had been how he opened his eyes every once in a while and looked up at her, almost as if he were gauging his progress.

She started to get turned on just thinking about it. She would have loved for him to swing by today, because she totally could have gone for the fast and furious kind of sex right now. Anything to satisfy this longing . . .

She longed to be back in that bed with him, clutching the sheets, digging her head back into the pillow and fighting desperately to stay as quiet as she could while he got her off. She longed to see him lapping up the evidence of her orgasm as she came right into his mouth.

Oh, good god, she thought, shaking her head. This guy was turning her into a sexual connoisseur. Not that she had any complaints, but . . .

"Slow day," Jose, the cook, droned from the kitchen.

Conversation. Good. Something to distract her from all these perverted thoughts. "Yeah," she agreed, glancing up at the clock again. Thirty-five seconds later than it had been the last time she'd look. "Really slow."

"Ah, at least it's Friday, though," Jose said. "You got any big plans for the weekend?"

Plans? Oh, yeah, she thought eagerly, just smiling and nodding in response as the thoughts came rushing in again.

That night, she didn't hesitate to put those plans into action. Once again hidden away in their bedroom, she wasted no time getting her boyfriend's shirt off, loving the feel of his flesh beneath her fingertips.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" he asked almost tauntingly. "Three nights in a row. I don't wanna tire you out."

"I'm not tired," she assured him as she unfastened his jeans. "Dylan's asleep, we're alone, and I've been thinking about you all day. So yes, I'm up for it." Once she had his pants unzipped, she tugged them down, but not far enough to get them off.

"That's my girl," he growled, kissing her hungrily. His hands started to claw at her shirt, trying to get it off, but she wasn't about to let that happen. No, if she got naked, then he'd take control, and he'd make it all about her. And right now, she wanted to make it all about him for a change.

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. With his pants halfway down his thighs, he lost his balance and practically fell back on the bed.

"Look at you," he remarked, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "Takin' charge."

"Mmm-hmm." She wasn't used to this, but after trying something new last night, she was feeling adventurous. Sinking down to her knees, she pulled his pants off the rest of the way. Then he took off his boxers and tossed them aside. His cock was already hard, and it practically leapt into her hand when it was freed.

He grinned as she started to handle him. "Feels good."

Oh, if only he knew . . . it was about to feel a whole lot better. "So how do you like to have it done to you?" she asked.

He frowned in confusion, even though he had to know exactly what she meant. "What?"

"You know." She smiled in what she hoped was an alluring way. "Do you like to be lying down or standing or . . ."

"Oh, uh . . ." He chuckled lightly, a surprised expression on his face. "Well . . . I guess sittin' down like this is fine."

"Okay." She walked forward on her knees a little bit, getting her mouth closer to his straining member, still stroking his length. She swallowed the lump in her throat, determined not to be nervous. Whatever she did, Michael would enjoy. He wouldn't compare her to the other girls he'd been with.

"Wait a minute," he said, placing his hand atop hers to stop it from moving. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"I know." He wasn't pressuring her the way Max always had, and she liked that. "But I'm going to."

"Why?"

She smirked. "Because I want to."

He laughed again, and she realized just by the tone of it that he was the one who was a bit nervous. She studied him for a moment, contemplating, trying to understand why he was feel nervous about getting a blowjob. They were very much sexually involved now, and it wasn't like he hadn't had one before. Maybe . . . maybe he was more concerned than anything. Maybe he worried that she felt pressured.

"I really want to," she insisted, understanding why he might be hesitant. The last time she'd done this, she hadn't exactly been with him. The last time she'd done this, it had been . . . dehumanizing. Traumatizing. And a whole lot of other things. But this wasn't last time. This was now. This was them.

"You do, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah. These last couple nights, you've been all about making me feel good. Now I wanna make you feel good."

He sighed, and his whole body relaxed a bit. "Alright," he gave in, removing his hand from hers. "I'm not gonna put up too much of a fight."

"You'd better not." She resumed stroking him, trying to keep her breathing even and steady as she surveyed the cock in front of her. Michael was blessed with more than adequate size, and whenever he was in her, it was snug and perfect. The thought of managing to get him in her mouth was a bit overwhelming, but she wasn't going to back out now.

Gripping the base of his erection, she leaned forward a bit, first just tracing the head of it around her mouth, like she was using it to apply lip gloss or something. The sight of his made Michael moan, and that got her to laugh. Her breath must have tickled or something, because his hips jumped in response.

"Damn," he mumbled, "you haven't even started and already . . ." He was silenced when she kissed the tip of it twice, then bent her head a bit and kissed her way down the side, all the way down to the base before tilting his whole cock up and licking the underside of it, all the way back up to the tip.

"Oh, shit," he swore, watching her in awe.

She began to swirl her tongue around the head of his shaft, gaining confidence now as she tasted the pre-cum gathered there. She done this before, and she knew what she was doing. Now it was all just a matter of discovering what things he liked the best and getting the biggest reaction out of him.

Sensing that he wasn't going to have a lot of stamina to hold out, she quickened her pace, opening her mouth to take in the entire head of his cock. She moved her mouth up and down gradually, getting him all slickened. She took in more and more of him with each bob of her head, trying to apply just the right amount of pressure as she sucked on him. There was no way she could get all of him in her mouth, but for tonight, it would be enough.

Guttural groans started to escape him, and his hips started to thrust upward instinctively. She mimicked what he had done last night with her, though, and put one hand on his waist, urging him to stay down. Then she looked up and made eye contact with him, knowing he would love it.

"Fuck," he cursed, obviously trying to keep it together, to last as long as he could. But she could see that he was losing it. It was written all over his face. Tangling one hand in her hair, he pushed down on her head just slightly, urging her to go faster. When she did, his eyes nearly rolled back into his head.

"I'm gonna cum," he warned her.

When she didn't back away, he tried to push on her shoulders to tell her to back up. But she wasn't having any of that. No, if she'd cum in his mouth, he was sure as hell going to cum in hers. It was only fair, wasn't it? She so appreciated that he was trying to be considerate, but she wasn't doing anything she didn't want to do.

"Maria, I'm serious," he said. "I'm gonna cum."

She pulled her mouth away just long enough to say, "Good," and then she took him in again, closing her eyes as she focused intently on getting him off.

Seconds later, he was groaning louder than he should have, his face contorting as he spilled himself into her mouth. She stilled her head, trying to swallow as much as she could, but it wasn't easy. He came really hard, and she wasn't expecting so much. Some of it seeped out the side of her mouth, dripping onto her chin. It was hot and sticky and didn't exactly have the best taste in the world, but since it was coming from Michael, she wanted to taste all of it she could.

He lay back after his release, breathing raggedly, and she licked off his shaft, using her fingers to collect what had spilled on her face. She licked them off, too, feeling proud of herself for getting him to cum so quickly. It seemed like he had really enjoyed it, and that had been her mission all along.

She crawled up onto him, careful to avoid what would be a sensitive spot for at least a little bit, and straddled his waist. "So?" she prompted.

When he opened his eyes, he looked dazed. "Wow," was the only word he got out.

She giggled happily. It was such a relief to know that she could get the same reaction out of him that he tended to get out of her.

"I love you," he murmured, his words all blending together.

She bent her head and kissed him, her hair falling forward to curtain their faces. She knew he would get a rush out of tasting himself on her lips. It would turn him on even more. And knowing Michael, after what she had just done for him, he would undoubtedly want to return the favor.

...

Is this really what my life's been reduced to? Isabel wondered while she stood on the sidelines at the sub-district basketball game that evening. Cheering at a series of meaningless games that I couldn't care less about? Everything seemed meaningless lately. Even classes, towards which she was typically driven. She couldn't find the motivation to want to do anything. To study, to cheer, to write . . .

Tess seemed to be living life at the opposite end of the mood spectrum. "Oh, aren't you gonna miss this when you graduate?" she exclaimed.

"Uh . . . no," she answered bluntly.

"Oh, come on. The thrill of the game, the rush of cheering for the team . . ."

"It's not a rush to me," Isabel informed her, startled by the lack of emotion in her own voice.

"It used to be," Tess pointed out.

"Not like it is to you. To me, cheering's just a hobby; for you, it's this whole lifestyle."

"Well, I think it's a pretty good lifestyle then," Tess chirped, swinging her left leg up onto Isabel's shoulder so she could stretch. "So are you gonna manage to crack a smile tonight or do I have to hide you in the back row?"

"I don't know," Isabel muttered, holding her friend's foot in place. "I'm not really feeling it."

"Story of your life lately." Tess brought her leg back down, and put her hands on her hips. "This doesn't have anything to do with the English class incident everyone's talking about, does it?"

Isabel made a face. "What incident? I got up and left the room. That's it."

"Oh. Everyone's saying you slapped Michael, broke into tears, and ran out."

Isabel rolled her eyes, hating how easily rumors could spread in small schools like theirs.

"What happened?" Tess asked.

She shrugged. "Nothing. We tried to work together. It was fine until I found out . . ." She exhaled shakily, struggling to say it out loud. "He and Maria had sex."

"Oh." Tess grimaced sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged, trying to act as unaffected as possible. "Whatever. He warned me he was going to, as he was breaking up with me. It's not surprising; it just . . ." For someone who liked to write, she felt unusually at a loss for words.

"It hurts," Tess filled in.

That was one way of putting it. But hurt was temporary. What she was feeling . . . it felt permanent. "It doesn't stop," she ground out frustratedly, wishing it would.

...

Since the game was happening at the opponent's school, Maria got to enjoy a nice little half-hour drive on the way there. It was so nice, just her and Michael and Dylan. She felt like a little family. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself, but . . . maybe not. It all felt so natural.

Michael had to carry Dylan up the bleachers, because they were just too precarious for a little guy like him. Once they found their row, though, he set him back on his own two feet, and Dylan waddled forward eagerly. "What they do?" he asked, looking out onto the court as the players finished their warm-up.

"Oh, it's called basketball," Michael explained. "It's not a real man's sport like football or wrestling, but when you got nothin' better to do, it's worth a watch."

"You've got nothing better to do?" Maria asked, giving him a pointed look.

"Sure I do," he admitted, letting his eyes survey her body briefly, "but Dylan doesn't."

She smiled and blushed. As wonderful as these lost evenings with Michael had been, it was also fun to be out with him like this, in public, not bothering to hide the fact that they were together, that they were happy. And being able to do something fun with Dylan was an added bonus.

"Are we blue?" Dylan asked as they sat down.

"No, we're white tonight," Michael informed him. "The other guys are blue. You don't wanna cheer for them."

"Yuck," Dylan said exaggeratedly, making a face.

"Yuck indeed. Can you see?" Michael asked him.

Dylan nodded, but then he crawled up on Michael's lap anyway.

Adorable, Maria thought, scooting in closer. The minute she looked away from Dylan, she met eyes with someone who probably didn't think the scene was so adorable. Down on the sidelines were the cheerleaders, and standing in the front row next to Tess was a downtrodden Isabel. She was watching the whole thing.

Crap, Maria thought. Even though she knew she and Michael weren't doing anything wrong anymore . . . it felt wrong to do anything in front of Isabel, like they were rubbing it in her face or something.

Isabel, of course, tried to look away, but she kept glancing back up there now and again. Michael didn't seem to notice. He was too busy explaining the rules of the game to the little boy on his lap.

The game began with little fanfare, but as it headed into the second quarter, more and more students showed up. They created their own little section on the bleachers and actually had a lot of school spirit. Most of them were wearing togas for the dress-up theme night.

Dylan yelled just about louder than all the students combined, though. Even though the game wasn't going the Comets' way, that didn't stop him from hopping down off Michael's lap and standing on his feet the whole time, jumping up and down wildly whenever they scored, accidentally cheering sometimes when the other team scored, too. He was having a great time. But not everyone in that gym was. Maria looked down at Isabel every once in a while, and the girl just looked . . . destroyed. Like she was barely holding it together.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come," she leaned in and said to Michael.

He wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "What do you mean? Look at him. He's havin' a great time."

"Yeah, but . . ." She subtly pointed down to the cheerleaders. Isabel had moved to the back row now, and for the past ten minutes, she'd kept her eyes determinedly glued on the game in front of her.

"Yeah, she's been upset all night," Michael noted.

"Well, can you blame her?"

Michael shrugged. "No, but . . . she's gonna have to get used to it."

She gave him a look.

"I don't mean to sound insensitive, but . . . we're together now. We're not gonna hide it."

"I know." On some level, she knew he was right, but still . . . she felt bad. But what could she do? Walking down there and apologizing for stealing the girl's boyfriend wouldn't exactly make things any better.

"Don't worry about it," he told her. "She'll be fine."

Maria nodded, hoping he was right. She would hate for Isabel or anyone to not be fine because of what she and Michael had done. But for now, he was right that it was okay to be there. They weren't breaking any rules or breaking any laws. They were just breaking Isabel's heart. Which sucked for her, and Maria knew first-hand how much it sucked. But she also knew that, given time, it would heal. Hers had. And now she could barely even remember why it had broken in the first place.

...

At halftime, the game was dire, but the food situation was worse. So Michael headed out to the concession stand to stock up. There wasn't a whole lot to choose from, but he was confident he would find something that would satisfy Maria and Dylan.

"I need one hot dog—no, two hot dogs—a cheeseburger, super nachos, and . . ." He looked over the candy options, not impressed. "Gummy worms?" Dylan would like those. Heck, he would, too. "Two bags of gummy worms."

The woman waiting on him hollered his order back to the others who were working, quickly added up his total, and said, "$10.50."

He handed over a twenty, got his change, and stepped aside so the long line behind him could move forward. A few people back stood his buddy Bubba, wrapped in a toga that looked like it could fall off any minute. He was sweating profusely after standing in the student section that entire first half.

" 'sup, man?" he greeted.

"Hey," Michael returned. "Nice toga."

Bubba chortled. "I had to tie three sheets together to get it to fit."

"Well, you're a big guy."

"Man, I gotta get in shape."

Michael laughed inwardly at the thought of Bubba doing anything remotely resembling exercise, especially since he wasn't going to be playing football at the next level.

"Hey, I know you're doin' the whole stepdad thing tonight," Bubba remarked as he shuffled forward in line, "but you should come sit with us. I got another sheet in my car if you want me to make you a toga."

As fun as toga night seemed, Michael wasn't about to ditch the very people he'd come with. "Thanks," he said, "but I'm, uh . . . I'm fine where I'm at, really."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." He'd done the whole student section thing plenty of times. He was over it now.

"Alright, suit yourself," Bubba mumbled as he sauntered up to the counter. Before he could take up all the space, the woman behind the counter handed Michael his food. Balancing it precariously in his arms, Michael headed back into the gym.

The Comets fans must have sensed that the game wasn't going to end well, because many of them had taken off, leaving Dylan plenty of room to run back and forth on the bleachers. He stopped when Michael came back, though, and his eyes lit up as he exclaimed, "Food!"

"Yeah, I got you gummy bears. Is that alright?"

"Yeah."

Michael distributed the food, cursing when he realized he'd forgotten something to drink. "Shit, soda."

"It's okay," Maria said. "I bet the line's really long now."

"Yeah. We'll get some on the way out." He settled in next to her, appreciating the way she dug right into those super nachos he'd gotten her. Girl liked to eat. That was sexy.

"He's gonna get so full on the gummy worms he won't touch his hot dog," Maria said as Dylan gobbled down his snack.

"More for me then," Michael said, biting into his cheeseburger. He let his eyes wander for a bit, watching as the student section sang the clap song. It was really funny and inappropriate, which was why he'd always liked it. One person started out by saying, "I've got the clap and I'm giving it to . . ." And then they passed it on to someone else, did a little clap rhythm, and the next person passed it on again. STD humor was hilarious. What was really hilarious, though, was watching Principal Forrester trying to put a stop to it to no avail.

Michael chuckled, and Maria followed his gaze. "Do you wish you were over there?" she asked.

Oh, crap, he hadn't meant to give her that impression. "No," he replied.

"Are you sure?" she persisted. " 'cause you can go sit by them if you want. I won't get mad."

"Maria." He reached up and wiped a dribble of cheese off her luscious lower lip. "There's nowhere I'd rather be than right here with you and Dylan. Okay?"

She licked her lips, smiled, then leaned in and kissed him quickly. He tried to deepen it, but she pulled away and teased, "Ugh, you taste like cheeseburger."

"Well, you taste like nachos." He nudged her side playfully, eliciting a giggle. Nachos or not . . . she tasted pretty damn good.

...

The second half of the basketball game was a blur to Isabel. One miserable, disorienting blur where everything started to blend together with everything else. The sound of the buzzer blaring, the squeak of tennis shoes on the gym floor, the thud of the basketball . . . all might as well have just been one sound, because Isabel didn't care about any one of them in particular. And then there was Tess, screaming her lungs out right in front of her, desperately trying to rally the team and get them back in.

"Go, go! You've got to, got to go!"

Isabel did the motions on automatically, just because she had done them for four years and was so used to them.

"Fight, fight! Fight with all your might!"

She didn't say the words, though. She felt like she wouldn't be heard.

"Win, win! Here we go again!"

The game couldn't hold her attention, nor could her friends. All she was really able to notice and separate from all the rest was the sight of Michael and Maria up on the bleachers, looking like a picture-perfect little family with Dylan. The sounds they were making blasted through everything else she was hearing, penetrating the blur. The sound of Maria's laughter as Michael tickled her side, for starters. It wasn't even that loud, but to Isabel, it was deafening. The crunch of the nacho chip as Maria held it out for Michael to bite into it. The sound that came when he kissed her forehead or told her he loved her. Because somehow, Isabel was certain that he was telling her he loved her. With no urging or prodding whatsoever, he was just saying it, because he just felt it.

How or when the game even ended, she was barely even aware of. She felt so consumed by her own emotions that she didn't even really feel like she was there. It was alarming to say the least, being so out of it. She felt like something was wrong with her. It couldn't be normal to feel this way, to invest so much time and energy into thinking about the guy that she'd once had, the guy who was no longer hers and probably never really had been.

"Well, that was a depressing game," Tess remarked as they left the gym. "Hopefully the girls fare better next week."

Next week. Was she really going to be back there, uselessly cheering on a useless team next week? It was all feeling so very pointless.

"I gotta go to the bathroom before we go," Tess announced. "Wait here."

Like a zombie, Isabel stood in the middle of the hallway as others passed her by. So many togas. So many people were happy to be there.

Once again, she spotted Michael. He and Maria were walking out the door, and he was hoisting Dylan up onto his shoulders, much to the little boy's delight.

She stared in disbelief. Was this really the same Michael Guerin she had dated? He was totally like a dad to that kid. And the kid wasn't even his. It was ridiculous. The whole thing and the fact that she was so wrapped up in it . . . ridiculous.

Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she spun around. A guy she didn't know was standing there, very jock-like in appearance, although he hadn't been one of the players on the court tonight. "Hey," he said.

Feeling like an idiot who had forgotten how to even use her words, she managed to get out a confused, "Hi . . ." wondering what he wanted.

"I'm Josh," he introduced himself, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I, uh . . . I know I should've been watching my own school's cheerleaders tonight, but I couldn't help but watch the Comets sideline. Especially you."

Isabel frowned, wondering why he would waste time watching her when she hadn't even been doing anything. No jumping, no kicking, no smiling. Exactly the opposite of what a cheerleader was supposed to do. She hadn't even yelled out most of the cheers.

"I feel like I've seen you before. Maybe at wrestling districts or something. Did you cheer there?"

She nodded mutely.

"Yeah, I wrestled. You caught my eye." He grinned flirtatiously, looking . . . not unlike Michael in that moment. "What's your name?" he asked.

Well . . . at least he wanted to know that much. When she and Michael had first met, he'd been so busy trying to flirt with her that he'd forgotten to ask what her name was. "Isabel," she replied.

"Isabel," he echoed. "That's a pretty name. And you . . . are a very pretty girl. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Yeah." Michael had. God, she had to stop thinking about him.

He shifted a bit, finally taking one hand out of his pocket. "Hey, listen," he said, "I'm havin' a party since we won the game. I mean . . ." He laughed sheepishly. ". . . since my team won the game. Sorry, I don't mean to-"

"No, it's fine," she cut in. "I . . . don't care that we lost." It was a good thing, actually. It meant she wouldn't have to cheer again tomorrow night.

"Okay, cool. Well, it's at my house. If you wanna come, I'd be willing to give you a ride."

Instinctively, her mind told her to reject the offer. Guy she didn't know inviting her to a party? She didn't do this sort of thing. But then again . . . what she was already doing clearly wasn't working. Maybe she needed to switch things up a bit.

"I'm not lookin' for anything," he promised. "Honest. I'm a good guy. I just want someone cool to hang out with tonight."

He seemed sincere enough, but she was doubtful. What were the chances that she'd just happen to run into a nice guy at a random basketball game she didn't give two shits about? It just didn't seem likely.

"I could give you a ride home later, too," he offered, "if you want."

If I want, she thought. But there was a problem: What she wanted had already walked out that door.

But maybe this would be okay.

Before she could formulate a response, Tess came skipping out of the bathroom, her cheer duffle bag slung over her shoulder. "Alright, that's better," she declared. "Ready to go?"

Isabel's eyes lingered on what's-his-name, not because he was particularly gorgeous, nor because she was particularly interested. But here he was, offering her. . . something. She wasn't sure what, but it seemed worth a shot.

"Actually," she said, hesitating, "I think I'm gonna . . . go to a party." She felt stupid for agreeing to it, but for some reason, she just didn't care.

"There's a party?" Tess asked. "Where?"

"At my house," Isabel's new male companion piped up. "Hi."

Tess surveyed him in confusion. "Hi, who are you?"

"Tess, this is Joe," Isabel introduced.

"Josh," he quickly corrected.

"Whatever." Just another thing she didn't care about.

"Josh," Tess echoed skeptically. "And how do you two know each other?"

"We don't," Isabel admitted, suspecting that was part of the appeal. "We just met."

"What?" Tess shrieked. "And now you're going to a party with him?"

"Yeah." It was a crazy decision, a bad decision, a crazily bad decision; but even though her mind registered that fact, it didn't seem to matter.

"Okay, excuse us." Tess grabbed hold of Isabel's arm and pulled her aside, practically scolding her. "Okay, what's wrong with you? This isn't you."

"I just wanna go have some fun," Isabel said innocently. "Get my mind off things."

"Who knows what's gonna happen to your mind while you're there, let alone the rest of you," Tess growled. "Are you crazy? You can't seriously be contemplating this. It's an incredibly dumb decision."

"I know." Being with Michael had been a dumb decision, too, so why was this surprising?

"You're not thinking straight. I'm taking you home," Tess decided. "I'm not letting you go there."

"You can't stop me," Isabel warned.

"What the hell, Isabel? This isn't safe."

She shrugged flippantly. "Seems like a nice guy." She looked over at Josh again, who seemed impatient. His friends were joining him now. Other wrestlers, by the looks of it.

"Oh, look, there we have his nice gangbang friends," Tess noted sarcastically, rolling her eyes at them.

"Hey, blondie!" Josh called. "You can come, too, if you want. Just follow me to 5th Avenue. Big house. You can't miss it."

"I'm not going," Tess informed him sternly.

"I am," Isabel decided, determined not to back out now. Just this once, she wanted to take a risk. "I'll find my own way home." She tried to walk away, but Tess grabbed hold of her arm again.

"No, Isabel, don't!"

"I'll be fine." She shrugged Tess's grip away.

Her friend darted in front of her, though, trying to block her progress. "Isabel, please," she begged, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Get out of my way, Tess." Gently pushing her aside, she joined up with Josh and his buddies again, allowing him to put his arm around her as he led her out to the car, promising her that she was about to have a great night.