Strawberries and Chocolate
Author's Note: Thanks for being so patient, everyone! I know I'm slow at updating. Things have been quite busy lately, not to mention I really am not sure of the direction to take this plot. If you have any ideas, or any scenes that you want played out, please feel free to let me know!
Chapter Seven
"What a lovely idea for the school festival you've chosen." Rick Jameson, the principal, was saying to Maxfield as Meg walked from the dark closet area into the bright makeshift cafe. He was rubbing his grubby hands together and practically salivating as he eyed each girl through his thick glasses.
Then, there he was, the primary heartthrob of the school for two consecutive semesters before Maxfield had come along and joined the faculty. Mal Adams, the relatively new vice principal, was standing by Rick's side with his hands in his dark grey dress pants. Judging by the looks on her swooning classmates' faces, it was easy to see why. He was a Westerner, with long blond hair, olive-colored skin, and piercing blue eyes. He was probably in his late twenties or early thirties, and he wore a well-tailored blazer.
His eyes rose and immediately met Meg's gaze, catching her red-handed while blatantly staring at him. Meg's eyed dropped shyly to the ground, and she moved to the side as if the glance had been merely in passing, and tossed a wad of tissue papers into the garbage can.
"The idea was obviously very successful indeed, and very well received." She heard Mal comment in his low, gravelly voice. "Whose was it?"
Stay calm. Just stay calm. Meg tried her best to remain composed, but her heart was beating sporadically in her chest. Squeezing some hand sanitizer in her hand and rubbing her palms together, she mentally prepared herself to pick up some plates and start helping again.
But Maxfield appeared unbothered by the situation, and gestured over for Meg to approach. "That would be the class president, Meg. She chose and organized the event."
"Good morning, Mr. Jameson, Mr. Adams." Meg greeted with a bright smile as she approached them and gave them a light bow. "Of course, Mr. Stanton gives me too much credit. It was the entire class who made this possible." She grabbed a couple of menus from the reception table and held them in her arms. "Would you like to have a seat? We have some specialty drinks available..."
"Yes! Yes, let's!" Mr. Jameson said excitedly, patting both Maxfield and Mal aggressively on the back. He gestured frantically to one of the newly open tables. Meg gave an apologetic look to the rest of the students who had been standing in a queue outside of the classroom all this time. Taking an extra menu from the reception table, she followed the three men and set the booklets down in front of them.
"Thank you." Mal said, taking the menu in his hands and looking deep into Meg's eyes with a penetrating intensity. Meg found herself blushing, it was not as if a man like Mal was not her type. And while it was subtle, he ordinarily did not treat students in this manner. He normally made it quite clear that unless it brought the school revenue or awards he didn't much care to hear what the students said.
Maxfield felt like smacking his head against the pastel tablecloth-colored surface. How did it come to this? Of course, he took some comfort in the idea because the principal happened to be a perverted idiot and didn't seem to notice anything extracurricular going on between him and Meg. He took a deep breath when he saw first Meg approach them. She looked surprisingly beautiful and put together, even after he'd just fucked her brains out in a supply closet.
It was surprisingly spacious in there.
He didn't seem bothered by the fact that Meg was the one serving them, in fact he was even more bothered of the way Mr. Adams was watching Meg admiringly as she prepared a fresh page in her notepad. Maxfield quickly flipped through the menu to find what he wanted to order. He had to be careful of the way he acted around Meg, but this joke of a vice principal was being more than obvious about his initial attraction to her. Even the perverted principal was showing his interest to more than just one girl.
Truthfully, Meg hadn't expected Mr. Jameson to even take up her offer on the drinks, much less conscript Maxfield into being his companion. "Would you like a few minutes, or have you decided what you would like?" She asked sweetly.
"I'll just have a coffee, black." Maxfield replied with a nod, closing the menu. Meg held his gaze for one moment longer, her eyes softening and her lips curling up in amusement before she moved onto Mr. Adams. "And yourself, sir?"
"What would you recommend?" Mr. Adams asked, taking the time to carefully study Meg's face. As Meg thoughtfully pondered his question and let out a string of recommendations based on that day's most popular orders, Mr. Adams's eyes began to draw downward. They went down her small jawline, her elegant neck, her collarbones, down to the nearly indecent exposed cleavage where they lingered for an extra moment. The span of this took only about a second and a half, but it wasn't lost on Maxfield.
What a fucking pervert! Subtlety was not this man's strong suit. If he wasn't his boss, he could have just knocked the damn guy's lights out.
"Thank you, Meg. I will have an Orange Pekoe tea and a confection of your choice, for yourself." Mr. Adams said in a gentlemanly manner, giving her a kind yet confident smile as he handed her back the menu.
Taking the menu hesitantly into her hands, Meg ran a few lines in her head to come up with some words to say. Was the vice principal flirting with her? She was so confused. He was handsome, young, and rumor had it that he used to be a Calvin Klein model. He could get in trouble just as much as Maxfield could if rumor got around that he was courting one of the students. But if he was flirting with her, then he had balls of steel to do it in front of the principal.
It was a wonder how Mal never noticed her before. This girl was so hot. He remembered vaguely one particularly driven girl on the volleyball team, who participated in various track-and-field activities. But he never noticed her up close and personal like this. She had drawn his attention almost immediately, stepping out of that back room.
Which, he could easily assure you, did not normally happen for girls her age.
"Thank you, sir." Meg said, for lack of anything better to say. She turned her attention to the principal. "And yourself, Mr. Jameson?"
"I would love to try that strawberry rhubarb cheesecake you recommended. And a diet Coke, please." Mr. Jameson said heartily, leaving his menu on the table. He gazed longingly at Meg as she bent slightly over the table towards him to pick up the menu.
In a hurry to get her out of that seductive pose, Maxfield hastily grabbed the menu and handed it to Meg. What was wrong with him? A couple of weeks ago, he would have just sat back and enjoyed the show.
"So, Maxfield, how are you liking the job?" Mr. Adams asked, turning his attention.
"It's going great; I still cannot articulate how much I appreciate the opportunity." Maxfield replied, tapping his finger against the table. Just more bullshit-laden lies. But this doofus seemed to eat it all up. "Everyone has been very welcoming—the students, and the staff."
"Too bad you aren't available, huh? I've heard quite a bit of wishful thinking from some of the faculty women." Mr. Jameson chimed in, laughing boisterously. That one sentence made Maxfield want to stand up and punch this man in the gut.
Shut the fuck up, he thought angrily, his mind beginning to race as he watched Meg from the corner of his eye carefully taking a piece of cheesecake out of the display cabinet. Don't you dare say another word about Melissa.
"You exaggerate." Maxfield chuckled, and was about to change to another subject but Mr. Jameson plowed on.
"Did she mention anything about her RVSP for the Senior Formal on Friday?" He asked, "I would love to be introduced to a real, working model."
Maxfield froze. He'd known that the formal was this week, but he had no idea that they had even sent out invitations to prospective guests of faculty. "Wait, how did you know I would even want to bring her?" He asked hesitantly.
"Don't be silly, Maxfield. She's your girlfriend! If you were going to bring anyone, it was going to be her. It's only the single people that I have to chase to get the names of their guests." Mr. Jameson continued merrily. "Did she say anything?"
"Uh, no. No, not yet. But she's been doing some go-sees lately to try to book some runway shows." Maxfield replied in nothing more than a mutter. Melissa. What was he going to do with Melissa?
Hell, why was he waiting until now to think about her, anyway? Shouldn't he have considered her feelings from the first time he and Meg hooked up?
Across the room, Meg put the teacups onto the platter with shaky hands. She didn't know what she was so shaky about, exactly. The fact that she and Maxfield had just taken a huge step? The fact that the two men that could bust their relationship in the span of a second were both standing in this room? Or the fact that she was getting extra attention from the no-nonsense, hard-to-get, very rich vice principal?
She turned around to get some cream when she bumped clumsily into Amy, sending one of the empty water glasses crashing to the ground. Luckily it only broke into six or seven pieces, instead of flying all over the place, but it still drew quite a bit of noise. "I'm so sorry, Meg!"
"Don't worry about it." Meg smiled kindly at Amy, putting one hand on her bicep. "I'll take care of it, you go finish up with table six." Bending down, Meg began picking up the pieces of broken glass.
"Let me help you with that!"
"Melvin!" Meg said in surprise, a smile lighting up her eyes. "I didn't know you were in here!"
"I wasn't, I was lined up outside when I heard the commotion." Melvin replied, returning her smile as he helped fling glass into the nearby garbage bag. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"It really has."
While Melvin was busy shovelling debris, Meg stole a few glances in his direction. She couldn't believe that her childhood friend, with the short, slightly chubby body and hair that looked like a wild fern, had grown to a full six feet in height and switched his Harry Potter glasses for stylish, dark-framed glasses that outlined his brown eyes. "I can't believe how handsome you've gotten."
"You kidding? I didn't get out of cram school until ten last night. I don't think I even got to brush my hair this morning." Melvin snickered as they finished with the glass and stood back up.
"Boy, you really know how to talk yourself up."
He really was handsome. He was pale, and he was not as muscular as Maxfield or even some of the varsity boys, but Meg knew he always did like to play soccer. He was built like that now—tall and lean. "So, have you gotten your early acceptance from Tokyo U yet?" Meg joked.
"Ahh, still waiting on Harvard or Yale." Melvin kidded back, punching Meg lightly on the shoulder.
"Listen, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to get back on the floor. We should definitely catch up sometime, though."
"Sure, sure. Do you mind if I got your phone number?" Melvin asked, already taking out his phone.
"Of course."
Over at his small table, Maxfield glanced over at Meg from time to time, but it seemed like every time he glanced over for the past five minutes she was talking to the same guy. What was he doing, anyway? He looked like he was moments away from serenading her or something.
He hadn't had the chance to realize how popular she must be to her classmates. He also hadn't had the chance to realize how much it bugged him.
-.-.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-
"You look like someone just put your puppy in a blender, Stanton."
Maxfield looked up from his drink at Darien, who had just returned from the bar with a beer of his own. That night, Maxfield had wanted nothing more than to release some stress by hanging out with his buddies. Darien had lured him out on the pretense that they were just going to be getting drinks at a nearby bar, but let him know when Maxfield got there that they were going to a club afterward.
Maxfield already had enough girl problems as it was, he didn't need to immerse himself in a sea of them. Fortunately, there were enough of his friends in the group that he didn't need to socialize with anyone unfamiliar.
"Nah, just work's on my mind." Maxfield replied.
"Oh, woe is me, I am surrounded by beautiful teenagers in their gym shorts every day." Andrew, the manager of the local game arcade, teased.
Maxfield shook his head and glanced down at his watch. Eleven. It was about time they made their way down to the club. "We should get going, who are we waiting on anyway?"
Darien grinned, and just like clockwork the glass door swung open and a small burst of girls walked into the bar. Maxfield turned to give them a one-over starting from the bottom to the top, when one girl walked briskly towards them, and then swung her arms around his neck. "Surprise!"
"Melissa!" Maxfield wrapped her arms around her to steady her before she toppled over on top of him, shocked. She had left for a modelling shoot, but she wasn't supposed to be back for another few days.
Melissa planted a loving kiss on his lips, before swinging one arm around Darien's neck. "I tried my best to keep my coming home early a secret. Luckily, my big brother could keep his mouth closed this time."
Darien hugged his sister, and suddenly Maxfield felt even worse. Darien was one of his best buddies. If he had any idea what his recent extracurricular activities were, he would be bludgeoned to death. He would be losing two people he cared about.
After making some small talk with Melissa's friends as they walked down to the club, he mulled this over. Every time he was with Meg, all he could think about was breaking it to Melissa that they had to split up. But everytime he was with Melissa, there were half a dozen reasons why being with Meg was clearly not a good idea. The best way for him to sort out his feelings were to have them in the same room together where he could see them both face-to-face, but obviously that was out of the question.
Still, he knew he had to break up with her. It was the right thing to do, and Melissa deserved better. It was slowly eating his sanity.
Maxfield began running lines in his head, trying his best to compose the smoothest, most appropriate approach to telling Melissa that the two of them were over. The problem was, how do you tell a gorgeous, spectacular supermodel that you didn't want her anymore for no good reason?
Then he spotted her on the dance floor. She had hung up her jacket through coat check, and was now swaying methodically to the beat of the music. The number of heads that had turned to look at her in her short, form-fitting red dress was not lost on him. She kept her eye on him and invited him in with her finger.
She truly was beautiful. Her green, almond-shaped eyes sparkled as they pressed their bodies against each other and began grinding. It had been two weeks since he'd been with her, and he had to admit the sight of her curvy ass rubbing against him was hypnotizing. With the alcohol buzzing in his veins, he found it harder and harder to keep his resolve. Everything was just harder in general.
The two of them shifted from the middle of the dance floor into a relatively secluded corner, where his back bumped into the wall. Melissa closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his, making him melt to the familiar sensation as she nibbled lightly on his bottom lip.
She turned around and began rubbing her backside against him again, visibly into the mood of the music. He moved against her in appropriate response, pushing her long hair to the side and kissing the sexy nape of her neck.
This continued for a few more songs. Instinctively, his hands moved down the length of her thin, freshly tanned body. As they reached her hips, he changed paths to touch her inner thighs from behind. Within thirty more seconds, one hand had slipped beneath her dress, rubbing against the outside of her thong, one finger sliding past the string to her pussy.
He couldn't help it. He wanted her again.
What was wrong with him? This was like a disease—he was the real victim here!
Grabbing her aggressively, he spun her around until his back was facing the crowd and hers was up against the wall. Blocking others' view of her with the wide expanse of his shoulders, he began kissing her neck, his left hand tugging off part of the dress to reveal her breast while his right hand introduced more fingers inside of her.
"Here?!" Melissa asked into his ear, moaning as his lips wrapped themselves around her nipple and sucked tenderly. "You really are a bad one."
"And you're a fucking dirty girl." Maxfield replied gruffly into her ear, unrevealing her other breast and squeezing them roughly with his large hands. She lifted one leg and placed it on the top of a booth seat beside them, giving him a perfect view of her crotch. Lifting the dress to show her entire lower body, he gently pulled up on the side of her thong so that the lips of her freshly shaven vagina pushed out. Within a second later, he had pushed it off to the side.
Melissa grinned and looked up at him, her hands undoing his belt and unzipping his pants. Lifting one leg lightly, she hopped up a little on one leg, enough for Maxfield to lift her up from beneath her rear and push her against the wall with her legs wrapped around him.
She must have really wanted him; he slipped in smoothly and groaned at the experience of it all— Fucking Melissa again, and in a public place no less, with others bumping and grinding not too far away from them. Due to the din of the club, Melissa moaned as loud as she could into his ear, and it was drowned out.
The more they rubbed against each other, the more intensely Maxfield felt like he was losing himself in her. He had nearly forgotten how good a fuck this girl could be. Grabbing a handful of the back of her hair, he began aggressively ramming into her. She moved forwards and backwards into him, working her stomach muscles as she arched her back and then curved it back into him, pumping his dick like it was her life's goal.
Her fingernails dug into his back as she reached orgasm, he could feel the contractions on his dick and his vision seemed to blur for a second, and he came hard inside of her.
The room went quiet for a moment in his head, and then slowly the music resumed in his ears as he came back to reality. That felt incredible.
"My dress." Melissa pouted playfully at him as he let her down, lifting it up so it wouldn't touch his cum. Removing a handkerchief from his back pocket, he handed it over for her to wipe herself off.
Putting his hand against the wall beside her head, he kissed her passionately and laid his head against her shoulder, panting deeply. Giggling, she put a hand on his back, rubbing it gently.
"What's gotten into you? It hasn't been that long since we've been apart. It's so rare that you're so affectionate."
He was really in deep shit now. What was he going to do?