So F*cking Special: 1996 (Book 1, The So F*cking Special Series)

Glycerine

The door closed on my PT's exit, and secure in my brace, I swung my leg back over and collapsed on the bed. I could still smell her in my room. The sweet smell of hot candy, roses, and something light but sophisticated in her hair. It was so subtle, but that smell of her hair lingered every time she passed and was what got to me the most, no matter what perfume she wore. Jesus! The fact that I knew when she wore a different perfume. What the Hell just happened? What did I do? What did we do?! Jesus!

She—she came into my room. She was so ridiculously hot. Her skin was hot, her legs, her ass in those shorts, her stomach. I had never seen it before. I had never seen her like that before. Even with this thing we obviously had... Okay, she's always had this appeal about her I was drawn to for some reason beyond my understanding. But, today...

She was never my physical type. We often disagreed wildly. I like taller, very trim girls. This was the list I always went down when I tried to reject my actions toward her and put things back into perspective. She's curvier, but different now, smaller, not like that matters, or maybe... she was just fucking hot all of a sudden! I... she was always the GOOD one you didn't think of as... Well, that's a lie. I had fantasized about the July I knew privately in every possible way since our freshman year when I saw her in her cheerleading uniform.

We went from eighth-grade frenemies in social studies arguing over historical references, and one summer later, it was like bumping into a new girl. Yet, there was still that familiar thing about her, only it sounded, felt, and smelt different when she passed in the hallway. I told myself at the time it was just the allure of the cheerleading outfit. Anything past that was just, you know, guy stuff, whatever does it for you. Which, if I was honest... more often than not, she did.

I denied a lot, most ruthlessly all our encounters this year, but I couldn't ignore this one... Not even if she planned to. It was the third time I lost my mind with her if you ignored the office situation early that Fall. But what was she wearing??? It was like her shorts just teased below her belly button demanding anyone who looked to ask for more. What was she even doing here?! In my room?

Was this a Reagan concoction? I had never been so turned on in my life. I think I would have continued in front of my PT had she not fled or had I not, to be frank... well, finished just in time. I'm afraid those shorts have met their retirement under my bed. How's that for physical therapy? God, the thought of how physical we were. What was I doing? What was she doing to me?!

I thought we left this in the auditorium that day. Especially after things got back to normal. Then, when she never made an effort to visit me after my surgery. I guess I thought she'd at least stop by randomly with Lynn one day as a friend... hoped. I hoped she'd come by. There were moments throughout the ordeal when she was the only person I wanted to see. I put that out of my head, though. It wasn't the reality of our situation. Her absence the entire time I've been trapped in these four walls solidified that.

We were just having fun. It got a little flirty, as it always does, but that was just our thing. It wasn't supposed to make me force her on top of me. I spent a nearly three-month relationship policing myself through making out and kid-glove petting with Natalie. I was never tempted to do that. I literally sat poolside by one of the hottest bodies of our class to date, Shelby North. She was even in a red bikini bouncing around our pool deck with no one home and probably would have let me try anything on her in her just-out-of-a-breakup state. I didn't attempt a move. I rubbed sunscreen on Shelby's back, which was a joke compared to what happened to me when July reached above me for a calculator. I had to get out of the house!

All I know is she leaned over to reach for that damn calculator and there was a black lace bra? I'd never seen her, forgive me, tits before, and God, did I need to now. Lane described them well enough for me to want to break his face. But seeing them up close... What was she doing wearing that? It affected me immediately.

Who am I kidding? I was aroused the moment I saw it was her at the door, walking into my bedroom right as rain, as if she belonged there. And then that outfit.

The black lace bra was just the straw that broke the camel's back. She would never wear that?! But how could I know what she wore underneath anything? I'd avoided that at all costs, and now. Wow. What did we just do? What would she say the next time we saw each other?

I looked over at my phone on the nightstand, then out the window. The sun had just gone down. It wasn't even completely dark yet. Focus.

What caused this entire hiccup was an effort to get me to ace my calculous final, an accolade I deserved. I opened the notebook she brought me. I had to stop thinking about her, how she moved on top of me, how she moved me. I had to get how she looked right through me while she rocked back and forth on my lap, breathless as I pressed us together.

I glanced out the window again. It was finally getting dark. Where was she? Still out at that stupid pool meeting with Lane and all the lifeguards? Wearing that... Wearing what we did? That shot a spasm through my core and had me ready for round two. I liked the idea of her having me on her when she met her summer coworkers, but I didn't like worrying about who she was meeting or what she thought about what we did.

Did I make her do it? Was she mad at me? I wasn't sure what haunted me more: wanting to have her that way again or fearing I wouldn't get to. Or her. How she felt about it all. How she felt about me. Would she say anything? I wanted to know what she was thinking... I wanted to know her.

I pulled the stapled assignments out of the front of the notebook and sifted through them to hit all of Mrs. Keagan's notes. The last page was crumpled and folded in half. I opened a circled red "F" with "July, these were on the third chalk board. If you didn't get them down, or fully understand the second half of the equation, you should have come to tutorials. The ones you missed will be on your Trig final..." written in Mrs. Keagan's handwriting.

What? Why was July's paper in Lynn's notebook or with my... Ah, Keagan must have given July her last quiz when she picked up my assignments. I picked up her Trig quiz and started reading through the red marks. I wasn't trying to invade her privacy. Okay, that was rich after what just happened here.

An "F." That wasn't like July. I mean, I know math wasn't her strong suit, and all of Keagan's classes were college-level, so no doubt Trig and analyt were difficult even for the above-average math enthusiast. What did you miss July? I wondered as I reworked her mistakes in my head going through each step.

She was showing her work on everything. Couldn't Keagan see where she went wrong, ironically, the way July saw where I had? I got to the page where she stopped showing her work. Weird, she should know these. This simply came down to the variable she wasn't seeing.