Page 81 of For the Fans
I told her I get paid to be the mascot, which is entirely untrue, and that I’ve also been working in one of the dining halls. Thankfully, she has too much on her own plate to be worrying about me right now, so simply assuring her that I’mfineand I’mfiguring it outwas enough to thwart the third degree.
I don’t like lying to my mom, but what other choice do I have? I can’t very well tell her that I’m slowly turning into a gay pornstar, and that my tuition money is coming from videos of me sucking orgasms out of her husband’s son.
I can still feel his fingers digging into the flesh of my ass, the tightness of his throat squeezing my cock while he moaned and gasped on it… The flavor of him pouring pleasure into my mouth as our heated bodies trembled and shivered…
Jesus.I don’t think anything haseverfelt so good, which is a problem, because I’m really not supposed to be thinking about it that way. If it was any other dude on the planet, it wouldn’t be so bad. But this isKyranwe’re talking about…
We’re only doing this to make money. Point blank.
But then… he kissed me.
Naturally, he snapped out of it fast and stormed away, which is more on brand for the Kyran we all know and dislike. But I can’t shake the feeling of his lips…
They’re so soft.
Okay, stop it, brain. Stop thinking about him and move on with your life.
I have one more class for the day and then it’s the weekend. It’s a bi-week, so there’s no football tonight, and I’m all geared up to spend the evening smoking some grade-A kush, ordering Chinese takeout, and maybe drawing for a while before I inevitably find myself curled up on the couch again with Robin, watching Netflix in my underwear.
The perfect introvert’s Friday night.
A couple of hours later, I run into Frankie while cutting through the quad after class. I haven’t seen her since last weekend when I met up with the crew at her apartment, where we all adjourned to her living room floor for weed and Rosé, classy bitches that we are.
“Where are you headed off to next?” she asks while we stroll, arm-in-arm, toward the Green Line.
“I have an epic night planned,” I tell her with a grin. “I’m gonna smoke myself stupid and binge-watch serial killer documentaries with my hand in my pants.”
Frankie snorts. “As awesome, and completely un-sad as that sounds, cancel it. You’re coming to a party with us instead.”
My lips slope into a frown. “Party? That would require me putting on actual clothes and engaging with humans.” I shake my head. “No, no. Too much effort. Sorry, love.”
She gives me a hard yank on the arm. “Stop being a hermit. Let fun Avi out of his cage for the night!”
“But… it’s so cold,” I whine and pout.
“Come on, dude.” She rolls her eyes. “We all know how wild you are…Backwardz_Cap.” I narrow my gaze at her, and she smirks wickedly. “Or is that side of you only reserved for stepbrother sexy times now?”
“Shhh!” My eyes widen and flick all around us. There’s nobody nearby, but still.
Frankie laughs. “Seriously, man. Istillcan’t believe you got him to do that stuff. Muy caliente.” She fans herself.
“Why are you watching my videos??” I snap quietly.
“Uh, because they’re hot as fuck,” she replies casually. “I’m not even ashamed to say that last one got me all kinds of moist.”
“You’re being gross,” I grumble petulantly, shoving her toward the station. “And to think I offered to chivalrously walk you to your train. I say good day!”
Twirling away from her, I take a tentative step before she grabs me by my coat.
“You’re coming to this party tonight, Aviel,” she insists in that Frankie tone that means I have zero choice in the matter.
A scoff turns to a sigh as I mutter, “Where even is it?? I’m not going all the way down to the Hammond Street dorms…”
“Well, you’re in luck, darling,” she chirps. “It’s right up by you. In Walsh.”
I squint at her. “Whose party is it exactly?”
She pauses for a moment before she answers, “Theo Reeves.”
