Sexts → Gerard Piqué

Jackie

Rest in peace, Alan Rickman. I was flabbergasted to hear the news, it's a great loss for the world.
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"My daddy kink."

Without waiting for Mr. Piqué's reaction, I marched off, Beyoncé style; although I knew it wouldn't affect him– not even to the slightest bit.

I was forcefully whirled around by a pair of feminine hands— the lass's nails digging into the layers of clothing on me.

"You have a daddy kink?!" Louise's shrill tone almost ruptured my poor eardrums– she was clearly shell shocked.

Yep, she did not know about Geri yet– nobody did; I wanted to keep it as a secret, until— let's say, eternity.

"I asked you something!" Her voice reverberated through the empty hallway, as she shook me once, twice, vigorously; hurling me out of my reverie.

"I— uh–" my stutters weren't helping— thanks to Mr. Piqué and the hoe Leena; I was busted.

"You what? Yes? No? What?" She really needed to stop yelling.

"I— yeah, I actually–"

"Since when? When were you planning to tell me?"

"Louise—"

"How old is he? What is his name? Do I know him? Where is he from?"

"Lou—"

"Oh my goodness— did you have sex? Are you like—" I covered her mouth with my palms, cutting her off forcefully, before pulling her inside the adjacent room– the one that seemed like a storeroom.

"What the–"

"Shush!" I hushed her, trying to peek through the broken glass door, whilst trying to brush off the hanging cobwebs.

After a bunch of groans and moans, Louise copied my movements; and we watched in pin drop silence, as Mr. Piqué inched out of the detention room, followed by the nasty, oversexed pig.

"Why are we hiding?" Louise asked in whispers, once the two of them disappeared out of sight.

No way— I know I have Geri and all, but I can't let Mr. Piqué alone with Leena Wright. Besides being a bitch, that girl was in the fast lane— who knows, maybe– maybe, she could compel Mr. Piqué into something really inappropriate.

"Louise, we don't have time!" I furrowed my eyebrows, a frown plastered onto my lips at the thought of Mr. Piqué and Leena making love in the backseat of the Audi r8.

I had made up my mind— in no way was I going to let the two drive alone.

"What? Time for what?" Without answering her question, I hurled her through the hallway, taking the shorter way to the parking area.

After two minutes of sprinting, we finally managed to get there before Mr. Piqué did.

"Will you explain me what's happening?" Louise asked, a frown hugging her heart shaped face; clearly confused from the past events.

"Louise, I—" I paused on seeing Mr. Piqué, who had currently marched out of the school building and was now heading towards his car. To make matters worse, he hadn't even noticed us— our tiny figures were hidden by a red SUV parked before us.

"—fuck! Louise, Louise! What do I do?!" Why was I freaking out? Oh right— Leena, Goddamnit.

I looked around, panicking; trying to think of a good excuse to stop them— and that's exactly when I noticed something.

A bucket of water.

Placed at the corner of the school building, below an open pipeline that ran down straight from the rooftops; a little project aiming to harvest rainwater, induced by the ninth graders.

"I have an idea!" I grinned, before bending down and grasping the bucket firmly with both hands— then, with all my might, I raised it up.

"What are you doing?" Louise asked, the anxiety on her profile clearly showing up.

"Louise, I love you. I'm really sorry."

"Wha—"

Without letting her complete, I emptied the bucket on her head— drenching her completely.

She screamed— so loud that my tympanums nearly bursted out; it wasn't her fault though, so I did not complain.

Mr. Piqué, who was halfway inside his ride, on hearing the scream, paused to look around.

On seeing us at a distance, he stepped out of his car, and banged the door shut before starting to inch closer.

"Are you fucking crazy? Jack—"

"Louise, Louise— I'm sorry, I'll explain!" I apologised, my tone still panicky.

"Why did you—" she paused, as her eyes fell on the man who was now standing before us. His eyebrows were creased; a comprehensible look of confusion on his face.

"Is everything okay?"

Before Louise could answer, I legitimately beamed in. "Yes— I mean, no! She's wet— like, I mean, you know, her clothes—"

"I can see that," he stated, eyeing my best friend's soaked figure from top to bottom.

"How?" He further interrogated. "I—well the bucket, we were trying to well, check the experiment," I explained.

I could see Louise scowling at me from the corner of my eyes— boy, I owed her a big explanation.

Sensing that Mr. Piqué was intending to leave, I turned to my tow headed best friend, faking a shriek, "Louise, how will we go home?!"

She shot me an incredulous look, glancing at her Hyundai Creta parked at a distance. "But my—"

"Yeah, your clothes!" I exclaimed, "they're wet! How will we go home? Gosh, Louise! Why did you not bring your car?!"

By then, she understood the issue— if murder was legal, I would probably be dead by now; the murderer being my own best friend.

"Oh no! What are we going to do?!" I might not be the best actor, but I surely wasn't doing too bad either.

"Uh— would you, like a lift?" A masculine voice spoke, making me grin inwardly. Plan successful.

"But– will you be okay with it?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm giving Leena a ride too, so that's fine."

That was it— two minutes hence, I was seated in Mr. Piqué's vehicle, with a soaking wet Louise, and an overly irked Leena. Like, where is my Oscar?

"How the hell am I going to get my car back?" Louise whispered, scowling still.

"Tomorrow, today– any day," I whispered back. "I'll help you with that."

"You're fucking lucky you're my best friend."