It was the last Tuesday of the month and Lola's first full day with Anthony.
Last week, to head off any trouble that might - okay, definitely would - start over their both liking him, Lola proposed that she and Lana split him evenly, the way they used to split toys. Lana got him Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Lola had him Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Since there were an odd number of days in the week, that left Sunday as a wild card. Lola's original idea was that she and Lana would switch back and forth, Lola taking one Sunday and Lana the next. That would give each of them two days in a row with him every other week. The more she thought about it, though, the more she thought they maybe should do something else, like draw straws.
Another idea was that they could share him that day. No matter how much they alternated or how many times they batted Anthony back and forth like a tennis ball, they were both still involved with him. The relationship was bigger than just two people. It was...what was the word Lincoln used? It was some kind of neckbeard anime fantasy stuff entertained by lonely neckbeards who dreamed of having multiple women in their -
Harem, that's it. Lola didn't particularly understand the concept of a harem but from what little she had seen, it involved one guy in the center and a bunch of girls fawning all over him. That wasn't exactly the situation with Anthony so maybe that wasn't the best word to describe it. A better one would be...uh...that French word. Minage a twa? That one referred specifically to three people in a relationship together the way she and Lana were both in a relationship with Anthony. Like with harems, though, she didn't know how the minage a twa thing was supposed to work. Was it an arrangement where two women shared a man? Was it an arrangement where the women were also romantically involved? Was it one giant threeway lovefest? Or did it matter how the relationship functioned? Lola didn't know, but she did know one thing: She was not sexually attracted to her sister and didn't exactly relish the idea of being actively involved in a threeway with her and Anthony.
Then again, she wasn't repulsed either. If it happened, it happened, she guessed, but if so, she wasn't going to touch Lana or even look at her.
Anyway, the point was, this was a three-way relationship, so in order to approve it, they should all spend time together. That would, like, promote unity and stuff. If they treated this as two separate relationships, it might break down, and Lola was not about to let Anthony slip away from her.
That morning, Lola woke to the alarm on her phone. Her hand shot out from under the nest of blankets, felt along the nightstand, and found the source of the noise. She fumbled for the DISMISS button and found it, silencing the phone. She let out a tired mutter and rolled onto her other side, facing the wall. She snuggled deeper into the blankets and yawned. Her mind was beginning to clear from the fog of sleep so there was little chance of her falling back asleep, still, she had to make sure she didn't. She should sit up or throw the blanket off to dispel some of the cozy warmth she had built up during the night, but she wasn't feeling it right now; she'd rest a few more minutes.
Her eyelids started to droop again and her thoughts took on a dream-like quality. She was almost over the cusp into sleep when her bed bounced and her stomach shot into her throat. She whipped into a sitting position, sure that the whole thing was about to collapse, and Lana laughed. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, twisted half around to look at her. A shit-eating grin was plastered to her face and her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Wakey, wakey," she said.
Lola let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes. "I was awake."
"That's what you say now, but a second ago, you were saying zzzzzz." She laughed and Lola shook her head. "I didn't want you to miss out on your day with Anthony, otherwise I'd have to step in and cover your shift."
"You wish," Lola said.
A hazy smile spread across Lana's face and a wistful look crept into her eyes. She tilted her head back and seemed to bask in the memory of her first Monday with Anthony. "Yes I do."
Lola whacked her across the face with her pillow."Keep dreaming, it's my day."
"Alright, alright," Lana said, "down, girl." She got to her feet and crossed to her side of the room. She grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "You better get ready."
When she was gone, Lola threw the blanket off, stretched, and let out a yawn. She got up and walked to the closet door in only a thin, silky nightgown. She grabbed her robe from the hook on the door, tied the sash around her waist, and stepped into a pair of slippers. She went out into the hall. A line of Louds stood at the bathroom door, waiting their turn. At the head of the pack was…
Lola's brow arched critically.
Ronnie Anne?
The Latina stood in front of the bathroom door with her back straight and her arms crossed. She wore her messy black hair in a loose ponytail and was clad in a flimsy white tank top and purple shorts that barely covered her butt. Lola's face crinkled and she stuck out her tongue. "What are you doing here?" Lola asked from the back of the line.
"I stayed over last night," Ronnie Anne said. "Don't tell your parents."
Oh, so that explained why Lincoln disappeared into his room last night after dinner and didn't come out again. Lola should have known. Ronnie Anne sneaked in and "visited" Lincoln fairly often. You could always tell they were together from all the crying, slapping sounds, and the way Lincoln walked funny the next day. Ronnie Anne was a total dominatrix and she and Lincoln had weird, kinky sex that involved whips, chains, and handcuffs. Ronnie Anne bragged one time that she sometimes pissed on Lincoln, and Lincoln beamed with pride, telling Lola that it was true. Lola expected that when Ronnie Anne and Lincoln finally married, Ronnie Anne would wear the pants in the relationship. She could totally see Lincoln being a stay at home dad in a pink apron and oven mitt.
Years ago, Ronnie Anne moved to Royal Woods (or back to Royal Woods, she wasn't really sure) and started bullying Lincoln. Ronnie Anne, Lincoln discoverted, had been transferred from the alternative school where the worst of the worst went when they could no longer control themselves in a public school setting. Ronnie Anne quickly became infamous for picking on people and stealing kids' lunch money, and one of her favorite targets was Lincoln. You wouldn't be able to tell it from the way she treated him, and talked about him, but she liked him, and after a while she claimed him for her own.
That was for the best, Lola figured. Lincoln was so meek and socially awkward that the only way he would ever get a girlfriend is if one snatched the front of his shirt and said, "You're my boyfriend now, like it or nor." Lola loved her brother, he was a great guy, but he was such a dork. He liked anime and manga, watched cartoons, had "thicc big tiddy goth OCs" (whatever that was) that he drew crude pictures of, and read M rated fan fiction on his phone. He liked Japanese culture and got into arguments with other nerds online over the stupidest things, and when he didn't shave, he grew a beard that refused to go anywhere but his neck and chin. He was a huge dork and though he wasn't a shy introvert, he did not have the game or energy to get a girl to like him. The last girl who found out that he liked her supposedly dropped out of school and committed suicide.
If it weren't for Ronnie Anne, Lincoln would die a sexless virgin who jacked off to inflation porn and hated real women because none wanted him.
Lucy came out of the bathroom and Ronnie Anne went in, stopping and looking over her shoulder. "Wanna watch me pee, lame-o?"
"Yes, ma'am," Lincoln said with a grin.
Oh yuck.
They went into the bathroom and the line moved up. Lisa was pale and sweaty and hugged herself tightly, and Lola's face crinkled. "You okay, Lise?" she asked. "You gotta poop?"
"No," Lisa said through her teeth. "I'm fine."
"You sure? You -"
"Yes, goddamn it, I'm fine. Leave me alone."
Lola threw up her hands. Alright, alright, fine.
Soon, it was Lola's turn in the bathroom, and she went through her morning routine: Brushing, flossing, exfoliating, moisturizing, and flossing. When she was finished, she stepped back from the sink and looked at her reflection, turning left and right to admire herself from every angle. She wanted to be clean and pretty for Anthony. She skipped a shpower, however, since he liked dirty girls like Lana. Of course, she wasn't actually "dirty" but it was a start, she figured.
Wrapping the towel around her naked body, she went out into the hall, where Lily waited with her arms folded over her chest and a deep scowl on her face. The ten year old wore a pair of pink lounge pants and a white shirt with pink sleeves and Kissy Missy from Poppy Playtime on the front. She tapped one foot impatiently and breathed through flaring nostrils. "You took forever," she said. Her voice was so childlike that Lola couldn't take her obvious anger seriously.
"Sorry, kiddo," she said and ruffled Lily's blonde bed-head.
Lily pulled away and stomped her foot. Don't do that, I'm mad. Validate me."
Lola pinched Lily's cheek and scrunched her own lips. "Of course you are."
Flashing, Lily slapped Lola's hand away and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door so hard that it shook in its frame. Lola looked over her shoulder and slowly shook her head. Someone was on her first period. A shiver went down Lola's spine when she remembered hers. She was backstage at a pageant, five minutes from walking through the curtains and taking the stage. She moved wrong and felt a warm, sticky sensation between her legs. She looked down and the front of her pretty pink pageant dress was soaked through with blood. She let out an ear piercing shriek and fainted. She had learned about menstruation in school and her mother had given her a private talk the same way she had with all of her sisters, but can anyone ever be prepared to gush blood from their genitals? Lola sure wasn't.
Worse than the bleeding was the cramps. Sometimes they were so bad that she could barely move. There was also the emotional instability. That was always fun. One minute she'd be fine, the next she'd be sobbing for no reason at all and nothing could comfort her.
It was hella gay.
Back in her room, Lola stripped the towel off and tossed it aside. Naked, she stood in front of the full length mirror on the back of the closet door and struck a sexy pose. An idea occurred to her, and she went to the dresser. She opened her jewelry box and took out a heart shaped belly button ring. Guys love belly button rings. A guy from the football team told her he wanted to cum on her belly button ring. She turned him down with extreme prejudice but maybe she'd let Anthony do it. The thought of his warm, sticky load splattered across her stomach sent a thrill down her spine and her nipples stiffened. Is it cold in here or am I just horny?
She dressed in a little pink top that clung to her breasts and a mini shirt that stopped well above her knees. She wore a bra to keep her nipples from poking out the front of her shirt but no panties so that Anthony would have easier access. She pulled on a pair of heels that gave her height an added boost and grabbed her backpack. Downstairs, Lana, Lucy, Lisa, Lincoln, and Ronnie Anne were sitting at the dining room table eating breakfast. Mom and Dad had already left for the day so they weren't around to wonder what the frick RA was doing there or why Lincoln was sitting in her lap. She texted on her phone and let out a frustrated sigh.
"What's wrong?" Lincoln asked. He dipped his spoon in his cereal and held it up to her lips.
She took a bite. "My cousin Ramona's staying with us and I have to share my room."
"Who's Ramona?" Lincoln asked.
"A fucking dirty bitch, that's who," Ronnie Anne said. "She's bossy, mean, and treats everyone around her like garbage."
Lana grinned. "Hey, just like you."
If looks could kill, Ronnie Anne would have murdered Lana where she sat, then mutilated the corpse. "Fuck you, blonde bitch."
"Go get the strap on you use on Lincoln," Lana said, "I could use a good pegging."
"How about I ram it through your eye?"
Lana's grin widened. "Kinky."
Oh, God, what a couple jerks. Shaking her head, Lola went into the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of cereal. She sat at the table and ate in silence while everyone else drifted off to get ready for school. The last ones to go were Lincoln and Ronnie Anne. Ronnie Anne griped about Ramona some more and Lincoln tried to console her. "She wants to meet me at the bus stop," Ronnie Anne said. "My mom says I have to show her around and shit, so we're gonna skip. You wanna come with?"
Lincoln thought for a moment. "Sure."
"If she makes a pass at you...nevermind. If she tries, I'll knock her ass out."
"Do you think she'll try?" Lincoln worried.
Ronnie Anne shrugged. "She's a major ho, so probably. She's only fourteen and she's already had three abortions and a half dozen STDs."
The spoon dropped from Lola's hand and clanged to the bowl. She coughed and slapped her chest to dislodge the food trapped in her throat. Ronnie Anne looked at her funny and Lola forced a sheepish smile. "Wrong hole."
"That's what she said," Ronnie Anne said.
Haha. Luan tier humor.
Having had enough of the tales of Ronnie Annr's thot cousin, Lola got up, left her bowl in the sink, and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Outside, the morning was cool and crisp, the grass and trees wet with dew and the meek sunlight warm as it spread through the neighborhood. Lola walked to the bus stop where Lana, Lucy, and Lisa all waited in a group. Lisa was still pale and sweaty and for a second, Lola thought the little genius was going to pass out. "You sure you're okay?" Lola asked. "You look really bad off. Is it the Loud Gene?"
Lisa bared her teeth like a rabid dog and Lola jumped back with a squeal. Just then, Vicky came striding up the sidewalk alone. She shoulder checked Lisa as she passed, and Lisa snapped. "Watch where you're going," she snapped.
Vicky spun around. "What was that, twerp?"
"I told you to be mindful of your path lest you -"
The older girl snatched Lisa by the front of her shirt and dragged her off her feet. A look of fear flashed across Lisa's face and Vicky cocked her fist. "Put her down," Lola said.
"Stay out of this, blondie," Vicky said, "this is between me and the geek."
Though Lisa had gotten herself into this situation, Lola was not about to let some rando bitch beat her little sister up. Lola already didn't like Vicky because she got the feeling that Vicky was into Anthony, so she wasn't far away from snapping anyway.
Before she could act, however, loud music shattered the early morning stillness. A second later, a low-rider appeared at the end of the street, its front end bouncing up and down to the music.
All my friends know the low rider
The low rider is a little higher
Everyone stared at the car pulled alongside the curb, bouncing up and down with a pneumatic wheeze. Lisa dropped from Vicky's grasp and they all gaped. A bald Mexican man with a goatee and wearing a wife beater and covered in tattoos sat behind the wheel, nodding and grinning smugly. "Aiyyy, tu eta por llamaseta mi amor!" he yelled, rolling his Rs.
Low rider drives a little slower
Low rider is a real goer
Low rider knows every street, yeah
Low rider is the one to meet, yeah
The passenger door swung open and a tall Hispanic girl stepped out. She wore a pair of jeans and a grody ass wife beater. Her dirty black hair was pulled into ragged pigtails, one longer than the other, and a bushy unibrow inched across her low, semian forehead. Her str She held a Four Loko in one hand and a Newport in the other. There was something dingy about her, as though she were lightly coated in dirt, and she reminded Lola of the white trash girls who lived in the trailer prk outside of town, only without the white part.
She tossed the cigarette away, drained the can, and threw it onto the ground/ She turned and stuck her head into the car. "Thank you for the ride, papi."
"I'll see you later," he said.
He revved the engine and took off down the street in a puff of acrid smoke. The girl turned and walked over, her brows lowering. "What are you looking at, puta?" she asked Vicky. She loomed over Vicky and bumped her chest.
Lola's mind flashed back to that morning at the breakfast table. This must be -
"Ramona, chill." Ronnie Anne said. She and Lincoln walked up, Ronnie Anne looking annoyed and Lincoln partially hiding behind her like a scared little boy.
Ramona brushed past Vicky and nodded. "What's up? You hang with these gueritas?" She hooked her thumb over her shoulder at Lana, Vicky, Lola, Lisa, and Lucy. "And who's the white boy?"
"That's Lincoln."
"He the fucktoy you were telling me about? He's cute." She leaned to the side to see him better, and he shied away. "You eat ass, honey?"
Ronnie Anne's face darkened. "Only mine."
"We'll see about that," Ramona said. "You want to -?"
She trailed off and turned to look down the street. Lola followed her gaze and her heart fluttered. Anthony was coming down the sidewalk toward them, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that clung to his muscles like a second skin. His big, yummy dick made a sizable bulge in his pants and his arm muscles rippled. "Who's the prieto?" Ramona asked.
"That's Anthony," Lana said, "he's spoken for."
Ramona shot her a venomous look. "I didn't ask for a boyfriend. I can get better than a nigger."
Everyone looked shocked and horrified at what Vicky had said. Lola hardly heard her and didn't really care. Anthony was here and he was all that mattered. She walked up to him and he smiled. "Hey, babe," he said.
"Hey," she said and laid her hand on his chest. She pushed up on her tippy toes and kissed him. He kissed her back and her knees quivered. He snaked his hands around her back and clutched her butt, sending a shiver up her spine. She giggled and nipped his bottom lip. "You wanna skip and go back to my place?" she asked.
Anthony hesitated. "I dunno. I do, but I'm already flunking. If I fail, I'm toast." His eyes flicked up and then his brow creased in confusion. "Who is that brown girl and why is she glaring at me?"
"Eh, that's Ronnie Anne's cousin," Lola said. "She's racist or something, I don't know. She doesn't matter."
Lola went to kiss him again but he held her at atms' length. "Racist? Well, I gotta introduce herself and change her mind."
He brushed past Lola and walked over to Ramona. Lolla sighed and crossed her arms sullenly over her chest. Leave it to Ant to try and befriend someone who didn't deserve his friendship. He was a sweet and caring guy who would give you the shirt off his back and try to make you smile if he saw that you were feeling down. His optimistic outlook on life kind of reminded her of Spongebob; he believed that everyone was essentially good and that if you were just kind and friendly with them, they would come around and stop being whatever terrible thing they were. Friendship, he once told her, was the cure for everything from racism to bipolar disorder. Lola didn't agree but she didn't disagree either. Being nice to and befriending someone can absolutely make them a better person and all, but some people are just assholes.
"Hi," Anthony said and stuck out his hand, "my name's Anthony."
Ramona looked him up and down. "What, you want a dollar? I don't got one."
"No, I was just going to shake your hand."
"Don't bother."
"Leave her alone," Lisa said, "she's just another Vicky."
Ramona spun on the little girl. "Hey, geek, why don't your shut your mouth before I shove those big stupid glasses down your throat?"
Next to her, Vicky snorted. "I'm serious," Ramona told her, "look at those things. Hey, dweeb, can you see space from here? What's happening on Mars?"
Incensed, Lisa opened her mouth but the Latina cut her off. "You can see everything but how retarded you look. Didn't any of you fuckheads tell her she looked like this before she left the house? You're more cruel than I am."
Anthony cleared his throat. "That's not very nice. Lisa's great."
A deep red blush blazed across Lisa's cheeks, but she shook her head and tried to act like she wasn't flustered even though she clearly was.
"Great at being a fucking teacher's pet," Ramona said.
"She totally is," Vicky said. "The teacher even lets her grade other people's papers."
This was starting to get really old. Lola put herself between Ramona and Anthony and slid her hands up under his shirt. The warm feeling of his rock hard abs instantly turned her on and her core clenched like an angry fist. Anthony ignored her. "Ramona, come on, Lisa hasn't done anything to you. There's no reason to be mean to her."
"How about you shut up?" Ramona asked.
Anthony turned red and Lola tried to calm him down. Just when he was starting to relax, the bus pulled up and the doors opened. Everyone got on except for Ramona, Lincoln, and Ronnie Anne. They took off walking toward downtown and Lola let out a sigh of relief. She sat with Anthony near the back and threaded her arm through his. "I hate it when Vicky acts that way," he said more to himself than to her. "She has a good heart, she just needs to deal with her issues."
"Don't worry about her," Lola said.
"And Ramona...she's gonna be a tough nut to crack but I know I can reach her."
Sighing, Lola pulled roughly away from him and folded her arms angrily across her chest. "Fine, Dr. Phil, have fun paying attention to everyone else but me."
Anthony looked at her and lowered his gaze in shame. "I'm sorry. It just bothers me."
"You're too nice," Lola said, "that's your problem." She smiled and touched the side of his face. "You need to be more a bitch."
Anthony laughed. "I don't think I have it in me to be a bitch."
"Oh, you can find it," Lola said assuredly, "if only you look deep enough."
A few seats up, Lisa's stomach knotted painfully and stinging tears welled in her eyes. She hugged herself and bent heavily at the waist, as if trying to keep her guts from spilling out through her mouth. A spasm of pain wracked her and she gritted her teeth. Her face was clenched and white, fat beads of sweat standing on her forehead. What little color she had gained during her brief respite before boarding the bus drained away, leaving her skin the sallow color of spoiled milk. The pain let up and she sucked a series of ragged breaths. She pressed her feverish forehead to the back of the next seat up and tried to will the churning agony away.
It didn't go anywhere.
For what felt like the past eternity, Lisa had been quietly working on an antidote that would allow her to suppress or bypass the Loud Gene. She was diligent in her task and was doing it mainly to rid herself of the base and disgusting desires that had come to define her very existence. Ever since it had activated, she had been unable to focus on her schoolwork and her personal research. Gone was the high-minded girl who believed herself above trivial human emotions, and in her place was a veritable sex maniac constantly consumed by her lust. She had lived in her head, surrounded by numbers and data, for so long that she was ill prepared to experience such intense emotions and was, frankly, afraid of them. She deeply resented Anthony for stirring those feelings within her but even as she sought to crack the code of her own familial DNA, she burned with jealousy because Lola and Lana with her him and she wasn't.
Not that she wanted to be! That was the hormones talking. If she were to extract herself from beneath their crushing weight, she would find that her attraction to Anthony was purely superficial and without substance. She would realize that she did not want all of the things her traitorous body had been steadfastly telling her she wanted.
Last night, she reached full completion of a new serum that worked by blocking the hormones secreted by the Loud Gene. It came in the form of a clear, tasteless, and odorless liquid that could easily be hidden in food or a beverage. She did this because she planned to give it to Lola, Lana, and Vicky, thereby curing them of their affliction. If it worked well, she would administer it to Lily so that the little girl would never have to know the agonizing pain of the Loud Gene. At midnight, Lisa ran a final test on the serum and found it to be safe for human consumption.
She needed a test subject, however, to know for sure, so she took one for the team, as it were, and imbibed it herself. The first sign of something being wrong was the taste. It wasn't supposed to have one but it did, a faint hint of burnt, bitter almonds. Lisa's first instinct was to spit it out because she associated that taste with cyanide, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the composition did not, in fact, contain cyanide. After drinking it, she waited nearly two hours for something to happen, but she noticed no outward effect whatsoever. Her fears and suspicions gradually lessened until she fell asleep sitting at her computer.
Her dreams that night were vivid and connected together to form one large panorama, but when she woke that morning, feeling stiff and sore, she could not remember them. No sooner had her mind cleared and her day began than a burst of pain hit her in the stomach. She ran to the bathroom but there was already a line, as there always seemed to be at this time of morning. Once she was finally able to secure the bathroom for her own use, she experienced vomiting and diarrhea. The pain went away for a while, but came back full force. Her chest and stomach muscles were sore from exertion, her anus hurt, and she had nothing left to expel. If the symptoms persisted, she would be forced to leave school early and go home to run some tests on herself. She had no idea what was happening and that scared her. She sorely wished that she hadn't gone to school at all today.
Presently, the bus pulled into the horseshoe service road in front of the school and came to a stop at the curb. The doors thumped open and everyone onboard spilled off in a torrent. Lisa waited until the bus was empty to get up and shuffle off. The air without was far, far colder than it had been when she had gotten on less than twenty minutes ago, and it took her a moment to realize why: She was running a high fever. Hugging herself and wishing for the sweet, joyous release of death, she made her way into the building, wincing in pain every time a passing pupil bumped into her. At her locker, she put her books away. A fiery fist o pain slammed into her midsection and she doubled over with a sharp yelp. The world started to spin and for a second, she thought she was going to pass out.
All at once, the pain relented and she was left spent and gasping for air. She sucked a series of deep breaths and leaned heavily against the locker to keep herself from falling over. She waited a minute, and the pain receded from her like the tide pulling back from the shore. She swallowed against a sandpaper throat and waited a minute to see if the pain would return. When it didn't, she stood up straight, smoothed out her skirt and the front of her sweater vest, and slammed the locker door. She went to her first class like nothing had happened and sat in her usual seat at the front of the room.
What was it Vicky had said? That she was a teacher's pet? Or was that Ramona? Lisa found the Hispanic girl coarse and distasteful, basically a person of color version of Vicky. Luckily, she didn't have to tolerate her on a daily basis the way she did Vicky.
Speak of the Devil, a ball of paper hit the back of Lisa's head and bounced off, landing on the floor and rolling under an empty desk. "Ten points," Vicky said and laughed.
Any other time, Lisa would have been upset at her bully's assault but she was so happy to be free of the pain that she couldn't muster with witheral to care. The teacher rushed in holding a Styrofoam cup of coffee and jumped right into the lesson. Vicky was unable to pull anymore jokes for the rest of the period and Lisa took a small measure of sadistic satisfaction.
Several times throughout the period, Lisa's stomach churned and she tensed, expecting another bout of pain. It never came, however, and she said a metaphorical prayer of thanksgiving. The bell rang shortly, and Lisa scurried to her locker, darting past Vicky to get out the door first. "You little twerp," Vicky said. Lisa looked back and saw that Vicky was coming after her. She bolted and Vicky chased her all the way to her locker, stopping only when Anthony and Lola walked past. Thank God for Royal Woods' combined K-12 school system. Anthony smiled at Lisa, then looked at Vicky. He realized what was going on and his face dropped in disappointment. "Vick, come on."
"If it isn't the king of all dorks," Vicky said and rolled her eyes.
"Why do you have to be like this?"
"Why do you have to act like my mom?" Vicky asked.
"Because I know you're better than this," he said.
Vicky shook her head.
The bell rang and Anthony and Lola went on to class. Vicky watched them go, then balled up a piece of paper and threw it at the back of his head. He turned around and she ran off chuckling to herself.
How childish. Who did Vicky think she was misleading anyway? She could pretend all she liked, but it was painfully evident that she was infatuated with Anthony. And who could blame her? Anthony was amazing in every way. He was bright, charming, and handsome...so, so handsome. Lisa imagined her hands skimming over his naked muscles and she felt a strange little flutter deep in her core. It occurred to her that she had not felt something like this all day, and wondered if the serum was wearing off. It had caused her a great deal of discomfort, that much was true, but it had quieted her lust.
To her way of thinking, that made it at least a partial success.
Now, however, it seemed as though it was creeping back in like dark clouds across a summer sky.A wash of dread went through her and she let out a deep breath. She put her books from last period away, grabbed her books for next period, and made her way to class, on high alert for Vicky the whole way. She reached the classroom and took her seat.
For the rest of the afternoon, she waited for the Loud Gene to kick back in but despite a few, ahem, sexual flare-ups here and there, she felt almost normal again. The true test was lunchtime. Whilst gripped by the abominable Loud Gene, Lisa was famished throughout the day, her body requiring an epic amount of calories to fuel itself. She suffered from strange cravings, the most powerful of which was raw meat. She believed, in a vague, superstitious sort of way, that her desire to eat bloody bits of raw hamburger meant that she was regressing down the evolutionary ladder, turning into an animal. She had terrible nightmares of herself becoming a slope-browed cavewoman in a tacky leopard print dress and sporting a bone through her hair. She would look into the mirror, see herself, and scream so loud that she would sit bolt upright in bed, the sound of her horror still ringing through her head. She never screamed out loud, but she was always sure that she had.
Lunch, when it came, was a blessed relief. She was barely hungry, and the slice of pizza and corn on the side was good enough to satisfy her.
Had she done it? Had she finally cracked the code of the Loud Gene? Excitement bubbled up within her and for the first time in weeks, months, maybe even years, she allowed herself to hope.
She was so happy that not even Vicky's taunting could bring her down.
She had this under control.
All under control.
After the final bell, Lola and Anthony walked around school for a little while holding hands. They didn't intend to stroll through the halls of lower learning, it just sort of happened: They got lost in conversation and didn't realize that they had failed to make their way outside. They barely noticed that the building had emptied out; multiple after school clubs met in the afternoon, so there were still people walking around. Anthony's first clue that the day was done came when he saw the janitor pushing a wheeled trash barrel toward the gym. A janitor cart was parked haphazardly outside the bathrooms and a yellow wet floor sign warned careless walkers to watch their step.
They turned a corner, and who should they come face to face with but Lindsey and her lackey Skippy. Anthony mentally added the word "lackey" because he could not seriously think of them as a pair. There had to be that preface. Lindsey was in her little cheer outfit even though there not neither a game nor practice today. Skippy followed behind, a teetering stack of textbooks in his hands and Lindsey's purse slung over his shoulder. Lindsey jumped back, realized who it was, and smiled. "Oh, hey, Ant," she said with a seductive little hilt.
"Uh, hey," Anthony said. Lola had suddenly turned into a block of ice and the chill emanating from her was enough to freeze Anthony's blood.
Skippy's brow furrowed in anger and he bared his teeth. "Nice purse," Anthony said, "pink's totally your color."
Lindsey threw her head back and uttered a nasty, mean-spirited laugh and Skippy flushed with embarrassment. "Ant, you're so funny." She flicked her eyes to Lola and her lips curled slightly down in disgust. "Oh, hi, Lola, I didn't see you there."
"Funny," Lola said, "I saw you. All of you." She pointedly looked at Lindsey's stomach.
Though it was flat and without an ounce of fat, the insult was clear and Lindsay reacted to it, her eyes narrowing slightly. To Lindsay Sweetwater, and, perhaps, to all girls of her like, the prospect of being fat was the most horrifying thing they could imagine. "Well, I did smell you," Lindsy said. "After what you did at the pageant, I'd know that stench anywhere."
Lola's face turned red and her hand unconsciously crushed Anthony's, making him wince. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh. yes you do," Lindsay said. "You cleared a whole building by yourself, honey. That's an accomplishment. You should be proud."
Alright, that was enough. The last thing Anthony felt like dealing with right now was some more catty BS drama. Between Lindsay, Vicky, and now Ramona, he had had enough to last a lifetime. "I hate to be rude," he said, "but we gotta go. Tight schedule." He led Lola away and Lindsay spun on her heels to watch them go, her eyes fixed firmly on Anthony's butt.
"Tight alright," she said.
Anthony resisted the urge to break out into a run.
Outside, Lola let out a frustrated half sigh, half growl. "I can't stand that bitch. I oughta claw her eyes out next time."
"I'm hungry," Anthony said, pointedly changing the subject. "You wanna grab a bite to eat?"
Lola thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure."
They started in the direction of downtown and Burpin' Burger, getting there fifteen minutes later. A long line of cars ideled in the drive thru and an after school crowd of kids hung out in the out door dining area abutting the playground. Inside, more kids occupied tables and booths, some pounding down cheeseburgers and others playing on their phones. Lola and Anthony ordered and then filled two cups from the soda fountain. They went to a table and sat down. Anthony was just about to open his mouth to speak when someone called out, "Hey, black boy!"
He looked around and spotted Lincoln, Ronnie Anne, and Ramona sitting at a booth, Lincoln and Ronnie Anne on one side and Ramona on the other, her legs stretched out on the seat and her back pressed against the wall. She held a cup full of ice and shook it, making a sound like maracas. She popped a cube into her mouth and crunched it between her snaggle teeth. For a second, Anthony considered ignoring her, but then got up and went over, Lola following and looking annoyed. "Hey, guys," Anthony said and sat. "How's it going?"
Ronnie Anne and Lincoln were both glued to Ronnie Anne's phone, doing or playing God knows what, so neither of them replied. Ramona, on the other hand, crunched more ice and said, "This town is gay. You don't even got a mall."
"There's one on the highway," Anthony pointed out, "you have to take the bus there, though."
Ramona made a sound of disgust. "That's not a mall, that place sucks. It has ten stores and a McDonald's. How do you people live in this country ass fuckhole?"
"I like it," Anthony said, "it's peaceful."
"More like dead," Ramona said. "I never been so bored in my life. I tried to get Ronnie to let her pet faggot eat my pussy but she wouldn't let him."
"Anthony has a girlfriend," Lola interjected.
"Bitch, I wasn't talking to you," Ramona snapped. "I don't want your man. I like guys who know their place. Like him." She nodded to Lincoln. "Anyway, I jilled off in the bathroom so I ain't horny no more."
The cashier called out and Anthony went to get his and Lola's orders. He brought the tray back to the table and sat down. Ramona promptly grabbed a fistful of fries from his container and shoved them into her mouth. "Thanks."
Anthony sighed. "You're welcome."
While he and Lola ate, he tried to make small talk with Ramona, believing that small talk would break the ice and help open further dialogue. He learned two things from their conversation, well three.
1. Ramona was kind of an asshole.
2. Ramona was pretty uneducated.
3. Ramona grew up in a rough neighborhood and was poor af.
That last one explained her bad bitch personality. Anthony had never lived in the hood or anything but he understood that one's environment makes an indelible impression on who they eventually become. In the projects, you have to be hardcore to survive because the enviroment itself is hardcore. You can't really blame someone from that kind of area for being rough around the edges anymore than you can blame someone who grew up in Russia for having a thick accent. Of course, that doesn't absolve one of their poor behavior. Ultimately, you are the only one in charge of you and chances are, no matter where you grew up, you know right from wrong. You do not have a blank check to act however you want.
Ramona was not justified in being a female dickhead, but he understood why she did it and he also understood that in order to reach her, you had to be tough too. Anything less, and she would think you were weak and not worth respecting. Was he capable of being tough like that? He didn't know. If you pushed him, yeah, but right now, Ramona wasn't pushing him, she was just talking shit in general. Royal Woods sucked, Burpin' Burger fries were gay, blah blah blah. Anthony tried not to be judgemental, but when Ramona outright said, "I'm a bad bitch," he cringed so hard that his spine nearly snapped. In his experience, the only women who described themselves as bad bitches were either ghetto or white trash. They were loud, rude, abrasive, embarrassing, combative, and a million other things that made you not want to be around. They were the kinds of women who started fights and made everyone around them miserable, then, when they wound up alone with five kids by five different men, wondered where the good men were. Good men don't want bad bitches, they want good women. If you wanna keep being bad, the only guys you're going to get are no good thugs and simps who'll take any vagina they can get.
"...fags," Ramona was saying. She crunched more ice between her teeth. "That shit pisses me off."
"There's nothing wrong with being gay," Anthony said.
"Gays are nasty as fuck. They put it in each other's butts and then suck each other off." She made a sour face and shook her head. "Tell me that shit's not gross."
Anthony shrugged one shoulder. "It's not what I'm into, but it's not that gross. Guys do nasty things to girls all the time."
"Yeah, but that's normal. Being a fucking homo isn't."
"What is normal, though?"
She shot him a dirty look. "You know what normal is."
Before Anthony could argue more, Lincoln and Ronnie Anne got up. "Alright, we gotta go," Ronnie Anne said. "Mom's done with her trick."
Ramona got up too. "About time. How long does it take to suck a dick?" She grabbed Anthony's burger from the tray, took a huge bite, and dropped it back into place; it came apart in a spill of toppings. "Later," she said.
When she was gone, Lola shook her head. "Whatever. Anyway…" she laid her hand on Anthony's inner thigh. "You wanna fuck me in the bathroom?"
Five minutes later, Lola bent over in the stall of the men's room and gripped the metal bar for handicapped people and Anthony stood behind her, his cock sticking out in front of him. He grabbed her hips and sank himself into her, the feeling of her body molding to his shaft making his breath catch. Lola gasped and tightened her grip on the bar, her knuckles turning a bloodless shade of white. Anthony duig his nails into her soft skin and began to thrust back and forth. His dick made a wet squishing sound as it rutted her insides and the dank musk of their mingled bodies filled the air. Lola moaned his name and held on, knees weak, body flushed. When he finished, he pulled out and shot ropes of cum all over her back, the feeling hot and thick on her skin. They caught their breath and took a moment to let the shakes pass before leaving together, hand in hand.
Overall, it was a good first day.
Lola couldn't wait to do it again.
That night, Lola was so exhausted from fucking Anthony three times that she turned in early. She dressed in a pair of pink lounge pants and a matching pink top and went to bed at nine. She was dead to the world until just after midnight when a loud banging came at the front door. Since the walls were as thin as sheets of wax paper, she heard it clearly. Dazed and still half asleep, she got up and went downstairs along with everyone else. Dad opened the door and three people stood on the step: Ronnie Anne, Ramona, and Ronnie Anne's mom. Ronnie Anne's mother wore hooker boots, fishnet stockings, and a tight purple dress covered in sequins that caught and reflected the light like the scales of an oversized fish.
In the distance, sirens rent the night.
"You have to help us," Mrs. Santiago said, "it's awful, so awful."
"What happened?" Dad asked.
Mrs. Santiago stumbled out her story. They were all asleep when Ronnie Anne woke to the acrid smell of smoke. They went to investigate and found the kitchen of their one bedroom apartment consumed in flames. They tried to put it out but the fire spread out of control and they were forced to flee with only the clothes on their backs. Now they were homeless and needed a place to stay.
"Well," Dad said, "we can't really fit all three of you."
Mrs. Santiago turned to Ramona. "Kick rocks, kid."
"Excuse me, bitch?"
They argued a little more before Ramona stormed off. Mrs. Santiag and Ronnie Anne came in. Ronnie Ann shut the door behind her. Lola caught a glimpse of Ramona sitting on the curb, hugging herself and looking pitiful, and her heart panged.
Damn it, Anthony was rubbing off on her.
She sighed. She couldn't just leave Ramona out in the cold.
What could she do, though?
Fifteen minutes later, Anthony opened his front door looking groggy. He was met by the sight of Lola and Ramona. He blinked his eyes in confusion and then shook his head, as if by doing so he could dispel the vision before him. Ramona crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, "I told you, I don't want to stay here."
Anthony looked at Lola. "What is this?"
She explained what had happened and Anthony readily agreed to let Ramona stay at his house. "I don't wanna," Ramona said.
"It's either this or the street," Lola pointed out.
"We have a guest room," Anthony said, "it's got its own bathroom, X-Box, and minibar."
Ramona missed a beat. "Minibar?"
"Yeah," Anthony said, "you probably shouldn't -"
She pushed past him. "I'm gonna like it here," she said.
Anthony looked at Lola again. His expression said it all: What have you gotten me into?
"You're a good guy," Lola said. She pushed up on her tippy toes and kissed the tip of his nose. "Goodnight."
Anthony kissed her back. "Goodnight," he said.
From the scond floor, Ramona called out, "I need another blanket, this one's too gay!"
"Have fun,": Lola said.
Something told Anthony that he would.
Loads of it.
Shutting the door, he went upstairs to get Ramona a new blanket.