Chapter Three

Tapping the tip of her mechanical pencil against her notebook, Meg glanced at the clock hanging on her bedroom wall. Letting out a sigh, she flipped over her cell phone. No new text messages. Here she was on a Thursday night, unable to find the will to do Calculus homework, and with nothing to distract her from mulling over what exactly had happened that day.

Alright, so maybe she was a girl with an impeccable academic record who was in line for being voted valedictorian, but as anyone with access to her mind could tell, she was something of a bad girl. Her older sister had been a high-end prostitute before her drug addiction had gotten the better of her, but before that setback Meg had always found what she did profoundly enticing. The ability to capture every man's attention, and make them want her desperately without fail.

Seeing the men who had showered her with expensive gifts and took her to all these glamorous, exotic new places had taught Meg how much more endearing older men were. They were mature, they had money and cars, and didn't find playing haggy-sack in the hallway or hiding stink bombs in people's lockers entertaining. Their fashion sense entailed more than a backwards cap to hide their greasy, unbrushed hair, and large pants that were perpetually falling off their asses exposing boxers that—if you pay close enough attention—may not change until a cluster of days have passed.

So that was why, although teenage boys can be cute, that Meg had made the commitment to only date older men. They knew how to treat a lady, and how to please them sexually. She had lost her virginity to someone her age, and at first she regretted it. Nowadays, she was relieved, because it would be difficult to impress an older man if she knew nothing.

And now, Maxfield coming into her school into her class and being no less than gorgeous and charming in that mysterious doom-and-gloom way must have been some act from fate. How much more perfect could someone be for her?

Then again, she'd heard countless stories from friends of hers—particularly from Serena—about how men prey on the feelings of younger girls. About how demanding they can be, about how rough, and what kind of cheating sons of bitches they could become.

Perhaps that was the case, seeing that Maxfield seemed so guarded and secretive to her class. But he had been undeniably attracted to her, that much must have been certain for him to have taken her back to his place to quickly.

And that look in his eyes... maybe it was her imagination, but she felt like there had been some kind of instant connection. Meg's sister's number one rule had been: Don't blow it out of proportion. So for now, she was just going to have to sit it out even if she lost her sanity trying. The ball was in his court now.

Picking up her phone again, Meg ran down her list of contacts until she found Serena. Perhaps it was time for some quality girl talk.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"You what?" Serena nearly spat her bubble tea out across the table and into Meg's face. Luckily, through years of volleyball practice, Meg's reflexes allowed her to avoid flying balls to the face. "Serena! Not on the jacket!"

"Sorry." Serena patted her mouth and then swirled the straw around in her tall glass. "I just can't believe you would do something so daring. And with our teacher. Did the part where that's against school policy elude you? You could get in serious trouble, especially since we're seniors now. If this got out, it could affect what colleges you get accepted into. It won't matter how impressive your transcript is or what your extracurricular activities are."

Meg furrowed her eyebrows. Her transcript was an impressively long string of A's. She was on the student council, volleyball team, track-and-field, and the editor of the school paper. She was an Ivey league's dream (Author's Note: I never got applied for any Ivey league school, so I don't actually know what their qualifications are).

"I think it should be alright." She said curtly.

Serena shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "If that's really what you think, then why are you asking me for my opinion? Guys are complicated, Meg. You don't even know what dating people our age is like. What makes you think you're able to handle someone who has probably dated dozens of girls in comparison? Mr. Stanton is already the heart throb of the entire female population."

"But that's why you're the one to talk to about these things. You dated Andrew before, and now you're dating Darien. Both of those guys are already adults. I just need a heads up on what they're like."

"Wait a second, you think that Mr. Stanton is actually into you like that? You think you two will start dating?" Serena leaned forward, her eyes wide.

Meg dismissed the question with a wave of the hand. "I don't know. But that's natural, isn't it?"

"Listen, I was Andrew's booty call for years before we actually started dating. And even then, it was rare for it to develop into anything more." Serena said, shaking her head. "I've told you the stories before. Even after all of that, I wasn't enough for him. He cheated on me for weeks and I thought I was madly in love with him."

"That man was a rat bastard. But you're with an amazing man now. Besides, I don't think Maxfield is like that."

"You don't think he's like that. Women never do. My first time, not only did it hurt like hell, but he didn't even bother to call me." Feeling her voice catch in her throat at the memory, Serena's eyes dropped to the table and she sipped her drink solemnly.

Meg put one hand over Serena's. Her friend really had experienced some rotten luck when it came to men. But her experience was different. She could tell from his mannerisms. His facial expressions. His body language.

"Just remember to be careful with your feelings. Don't disregard the chance where he might not call you, where he might not stop, and when he refuses to take you out in public or to meet his friends. Or if he ends up treating somebody else, maybe even someone you know, the same way he's treating you."

"Thank you, Oprah." Meg joked light-heartedly. Serena was usually a very ditzy and empty-headed lovestruck girl, but when it came to experience with men she definitely climbed far higher on the maturity ladder.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Melissa let out a loud moan which most likely startled the neighbours as Darien pounded into her from behind. "Miss me, don't you, baby?"

"Stop talking." Maxfield grunted, feeling the sweat slide down the side of his face and back. He felt her body shake with light spasms, and not long afterwards he came inside of her.

"Ah-! What the hell, Max! I thought you weren't going to do that!" Grabbing several tissues, Melissa rolled over to clean herself off. "You know I hate it when you come in my ass."

Maxfield lay back down on his bed, feeling the breeze from his ceiling fan and closed his eyes. He was going to pull out—that was his intention—but just as he reached orgasm, Meg's face flashed in front of his eyes, which had completely distracted him. Not to mention it caught him off guard entirely. She was just some little girl.

That was all... probably.