“What is the symbol for iron?” he asked.
“‘Fe.’ I like you a lot, Martin. How do you stay focused on this stuff for so long?”
“I like you a lot too, Rhonda. As far as studying Chemistry, I love it. Chemicals are very powerful things. What’s the symbol for sodium?”
“‘Na.’ When I went to the bathroom earlier, my mom asked if I was sure we weren’t seeing each other. I thought about that. If someone asks you what I am to you, what are you going to say?”
He thought for a moment. “What should I say?” I laughed. I took the book from his hand and moved closer until the side of my body was against the side of his.
“What are you comfortable with?”
“I think we’re beating around the bush. Would you be my girlfriend?” I smiled and threw my arm around him. When he smiled, I grabbed his chin and planted a big smooch right on his lips. When he raised his arm (I assumed it was to put it around my shoulders) I pushed him onto his back and quickly got on top of him. Then I kissed him on the lips again and rested my head on his chest. I could feel him becoming aroused. He tried to shift so I wouldn’t feel it, but I wouldn’t let him. I enjoyed feeling him get stiff underneath me, so I pressed my body against his and made complaining groans when he tried to move. He actually let me have what I wanted and laid quietly while I got my little thrill.
I knew I was wrong. If a boy did that to me I would’ve slapped him. It felt like I was testing the waters, in a way. If he’d let me do that, what else would he let me do? The poor boy had no idea how dangerous it was for me to get aroused in his presence, but he was safe for the time being. There was a Chemistry test in the middle of the following week. I couldn’t have him undergoing any changes until at least that point.
I tried to convince him to let me talk to my mother about letting him sleep on our couch for the night. Like a good little boy, he refused. I liked that. I found myself relishing the idea of chasing and catching him and then having my way with him.
If I’d known where his locker was, I would have met him there on Monday morning. I scanned the halls between classes hoping for a glimpse of him. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t see him again until science class, which was after lunch.
I had to sit behind him at first. He sat to the far right of the second row and, even though I got to class on time, another boy had taken the seat next to him. I saw him lean over and whisper something to the boy. He looked at me and smiled while Martin was whispering. Then he nodded, gave Martin dap, and switched seats with me. I was smiling from ear to ear. How ironic that we barely said a word to one another for fear of getting into trouble. He did, however, touch my hand every chance he got. He would squeeze it lightly anytime the teacher wasn’t looking, and my heart raced more each time. I was so turned on that by the time the bell rang that I just blurted out, “Are you coming over today?” without thinking.
“I’d love to!” he answered with a broad smile. “Meet you at the bus lane?”
“See you then!”
He and I stood together outside the school and waited for the buses to arrive in an area known as the ‘bus lane.’ As soon as I grabbed Martin’s hand, Roger walked by. “Oh, you gotta be kiddin’ me!” he spat.
“What?” I asked incredulously.
“You wouldn’t give me a chance, but you hooked up with this nerd? What the hell does he got that I don’t got?”
“I can name two things: a brain and a future.”
“Yo, who you think you talkin’ to?” Martin responded. I’d never heard him use bad grammar before. I assumed it was a symptom of his ire.
“Martin, No. Please don’t do this,” I begged. They were about the same height, but Roger was much bigger.
“You gotta stand up for yo’self when shit like this happens,” he declared. “You can’t just let people push you around.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right, Martin. You’ve stood up for yourself and me both, and for that I’m deeply appreciative. Our bus is almost here. Let’s go!”
“Nah, let him come,” said Roger arrogantly. “I’ll teach him better.”
“Do it then!” I tried to pull on Martin, but he gently pushed me to the side without taking his angry glare off Roger. “Teach me better!”
I screamed at the top of my lungs, “MARTIN IF YOU DO THIS I WILL NEVER SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN!” That worked. He slowly backed away from Roger, who laughed like an asshole and walked away muttering low brow insults as the buses rolled up.
“Martin, please calm down, baby. I left something in my locker. I need you to get on the bus and find us a seat. Okay, boo? Are you going to try to calm down?”
His face finally began to soften. “Anything for you, baby.”
“I’ll be back in three minutes. Tell the bus driver not to leave yet, okay?”
He managed a smile. “Okay.”
There was nothing I needed from my locker. I knew Roger was on his way to the parking lot because of the direction he was going in when he showed up. That meant he had a car. I saw him in the parking lot hanging around a shiny red car (which I assumed was his) with a bunch of his friends. I walked over to him mad as a hatter and I didn’t care who saw.
“That was fucked up, Roger. But you fucked with the wrong one this time. Watch your back.” His friends began to laugh as I walked away.
“What? Please. I don’t give a fuck what you think.” I pretended not to hear and kept walking. “You ain’t gon’ do shit to me. I’ll get my little cousin to beat your little skinny ass.”
My ass wasn’t so skinny when you were trying to get with me.
Martin’s bag had been in the seat to prevent anyone else from trying to sit with him. He very kindly grabbed his bag with a smile and put it in his lap, assuming I wanted to sit next to him. I grabbed the bag, put it back on the seat, and sat in his lap. He looked around, and I assumed he was embarrassed. I wasn’t the only girl on the bus sitting in a boy’s lap, but most of those boys were thugs and b-boys. Since it was (technically) against the rules, the good boys didn’t do such things. I didn’t care. Sitting next to him just wasn’t close enough after that ordeal.
Martin wouldn’t stay late that night because it was a school night. We hardly studied anyway. I made him lie down on my bed and I laid on his chest. I didn’t care whether he was uncomfortable with my groin against his. We talked until around 6 when mom let me borrow the keys to give him a ride home. Before he got out of the car I made sure to find out where his locker was.
The next day, on the way to Martin’s locker, I ran into Roger again in an enclosed stairwell. He was literally the very last person I wanted to see that early in the morning. Fortunately, my trepidation seemed unwarranted. “I’m sorry about the way I acted yesterday,” he said rather sheepishly. “And I’m gonna apologize to Martin, too. He may be a nerd, but that wasn’t right.”
“Oh,” I said with a smile. “That’s very big of you, Roger.”
“You think you could give me a chance now? I know damn well that nerd ain’t doin’ shit for you. Let me buy you something nice and take you somewhere special.” I was appalled. Roger’s buffoonery seemed to know no bounds… until he spoke again. “I bet his dick ain’t big as mine.” I wanted to walk away, but Roger pressed his body against mine, and my back against a nearby wall. I was terribly frightened. It felt like I was about to be raped! “Can you feel it? Can you feel how big and hard it is for you? Here, feel it.”
“No! I don’t want to feel it!”
He ignored me and reached for my wrist. I tried to pull my arm away, but he pressed my arm against the wall until he could grab it. I tried to close my hand but he was so much bigger and stronger than me that he easily forced all four of my fingers open with his powerful thumb. He pulled until my palm was on his manhood. It felt disgusting, like a giant worm shifting in his pants. Boys clearly don’t understand girls. Why would I want to feel the sex organ of a boy who was as horrible as Roger?
“Hey! Get off her!” yelled Mike as he ran up the stairs. He wasn’t as big as Roger either, but he was coming up the stairs with a teacher when he saw what was happening.
“What are you doing, Roger?” asked the tall male teacher as he followed Mike up the stairs. Roger disappeared through the door so quickly that by the time I looked in his direction he was gone.
I couldn’t stop crying. Not only because of the trauma itself, but also because I felt like I knew what I’d put Mike through. Actually, what I did to him was much worse. I moved toward Mike hoping for some sympathy, but he backed away. The teacher put his arm around me and Mike just rubbed my back.
“Come on,” said the teacher. “Let’s go to the principal’s office.”
“No,” I objected. I moved away from the teacher and tried to regain my composure. “I just want to go to class.”
“You can’t let him get away with that, young lady. What’s your name?”
I knew the dangers of telling him my name. “I’m fine,” I muttered. As soon as I said the words the bell rang. “I’m late for class,” I said as I wiped my tears away and started up the stairs.
I got to the floor where Martin’s locker was before I realized what I’d done. I was on my way to his locker, but the bell had rung. He was in his homeroom and I didn’t know where that was. Cursing myself, I went back into the stairwell and down to my own homeroom.
The period before classes known as “homeroom” was only about 8 minutes long. Just before that eight minutes ended I heard over the loudspeaker, “Rhonda Stern to Principal Davis’ office, please. Rhonda Stern to the principal’s office.” I rolled my eyes with a special disdain for Mike, who most likely told that damn teacher my name.
I so seldom saw the principal that I had forgotten she was a woman. I figured that would make things worse. Being a woman she’d probably have a “hard on” for boys who assaulted girls. I couldn’t admit to anything if I wanted the situation to be over with as quickly as possible.
As I entered the room I suddenly felt absolutely terrified. The principal was seated at her desk and standing around were Mike, Roger, the male teacher, and two other girls. I wondered why the girls were there, but I figured it couldn’t be good.
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