Date: Wed, 13 Feb 2019 15:54:23 -0500 From: RJ Subject: Catfish Chapter 2 Catfish by RJ This story is about the developing relationship between a teenager and his older brother. If themes of incest offend you, do not read this story. Catfishing is a real problem due to the rise of technology -- do what's best for everyone in the long run and be yourself. If you have any questions or comments about this piece, want to know about any of my other works, or just want to reach out, please don't hesitate to email me. A list of my works, including links and descriptions, can be found here: https://bit.ly/2S5IYDI If you would like to be added to a mailing list to receive emails when my stories are updated, let me know which stories (if not all) you would like to receive emails for. Please also consider donating to Nifty if you can: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ~ Chapter 2 ~ The thing is, I'm not terribly dishonest as Milly. I only lie about my name, my gender, my pictures, my age, my job... I know that sounds silly. Like I'm asking "Where's my Not As Dishonest As You Could Have Been Award?" But the core of Milly is still me. My personality is the same. My interests are the same. At least, that's what I tell myself to make me feel not as guilty. In the morning, when we start talking again, Andy asks more about me (Milly). So I hit him with my typical lies. I'm a 22-year-old college student from LA studying psychology and sociology. Everything there is untruthful, though when I DO go to college, my plan is to study psychology and sociology. Maybe a double major. I could pull it off if I work hard. Andy tells Milly about how he went to college for a bit but ended up dropping out. I have my own speculations as to why he did. Nothing keeps Andy's attention for long. He was in a band for a while. Then, he was adamant about being a paleontologist. Then, a chemist, but hard science proved to be too difficult for him. Then he went back to music. Then philosophy, because The Matrix is one of his favorite films. Then a brief horticulture phase. Eventually, he just dropped out of college once he realized he didn't know what he wanted. Now he works at a shelter, which he absolutely loves -- but for how long? We also talk about family, which is a tough point. I'm usually honest about my family situation, but how do I finesse this so it's not so obviously the same as Andy's? Maybe if I'm vague enough, I can still be relatable without being exact. So I give him the basics, plus a little extra tidbit: I have a mom and a dad and a brother, but the mom is an addict. All true. And thankfully he doesn't ask for more specifics. Like I expected, he latches onto the one extra morsel of information and says "My mom's an addict too!" It's interesting having Andy describe our family from his perspective. Mom's an addict who's usually just up in her room doing God knows what (Andy cares for her much more than I do). Dad pops in maybe once a week, and more often than not, he reeks of alcohol and sweat. Sometimes he looks like he just got out of a brawl, and so I always make sure there's a bag of peas in the freezer. Just in case he shows up. Neither of us are close to our parents. We rarely see them. That's why when Andy says "It's really just me and my little brother", I have to nod. He's right. We're all we've got in this house. "Speaking of which," he adds, "he's graduating high school today." He adds a little smiley at the end of the message. Graduation. Finally. I've been practically counting down the days where I'll have to leave this facility of a school. Just thinking about all the people I'll never have to see ever again gets me giddy. The process of graduating, though, is tedious. It was made evident by the rehearsal we had yesterday, but today it'll drag on because of speeches. At least it's outside and not terribly hot today. It threatened to rain, which almost meant I had to spend my last waking high school moments sweating it out in a gymnasium. Not ideal. I make it to the ceremony practically just on time to line up since Andy and I had to jump-start his car. I go through the motions of following in line and taking my seat next to two peers I don't really care for, and I pretend to listen to speech after speech after speech. It feels endless and uneventful. Not at all an exciting ending to my high school career. Even walking across the stage when my name is called doesn't feel that great -- although it IS nice to hear substantial cheers. I can even hear Andy in the audience screaming for me, and that makes me smile. After the ceremony, all us students shuffle into the cafeteria to get our actual diplomas, since all they gave us were the cases when we walked across the stage. I catch up with Kelly and Julie while we wait in line. We talk about how terrible the principal's demeanor was today and how tired we all are. Julie in particular is sad that she has to say "so many goodbyes", but Kelly and I are both eager to get the hell out. "Is your mom here?" Kelly asks as one of the office ladies sifts through the pile of diplomas and looks for mine. I snort. "Uh, no," I say. "Andy brought me." "Aw, and he stayed?" "Yeah," I say, smiling slightly. "He's the cutest," Kelly says. "He stopped responding to my messages, by the way," Julie says, looking at me with arched eyebrows. She knows I said something. "It wouldn't have ended well anyway," I say, taking my diploma and sliding it into the case. There we go. It's all official. I am now a high school graduate. "Well it still would have been nice for a while," Julie says, flicking her hair across her shoulder in an irritated way. I guess I shouldn't be that mad at her. I'm doing exactly what she was doing. The difference is, I'm not trying to get nudes out of him. "Well now you can move on," I say with a slightly snide tone. She squints at me as if she's about to fire back, but just then, I feel a hand on the center of my back. I jump slightly in surprise and turn around, looking up at the tall man before me. "Mr. White!" He smiles, flashing me his perfect teeth. "Now you can officially call me Calvin." I resist every urge to roll my eyes. "I'll stick with Mr. White," I say. He sighs through his nose before glancing at my diploma. "Guess congratulations are in order." I shrug. "Thanks," I say, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "We should celebrate," he adds in a low voice, leaning in slightly so only I hear. Kelly and Julie are chatting away amongst themselves anyway, waiting for their diplomas. "Oh yeah?" I ask, though I can't say I'm entirely interested. Maybe a good fuck would be nice, but I know he'd want to go the extra mile. Dinner, or something. "Andrea's meeting some girlfriends later on. Once I put the kids to bed--" Ugh. I don't want to deal with this right now. "I actually have plans for tonight," I lie, touching his arm in a way that will make me seem sincere. "Rain check?" He sighs. "I suppose so." Before he can get anything else out, I say "I'll call you" and hit him with a little smile before spinning on my heels and hopping right back into conversation with Kelly and Julie. I wait for Kelly to get her diploma before we all head out towards the mass of students and families screaming joyously and snapping pictures all over the place. My goal is to just find Andy. Find Andy and leave. There's no one I really want to say goodbye to that I won't see over the summer anyway, so I scan the crowd for his red hair. It takes a minute, but I finally locate him. Andy looks funny as he spins around, squinting and scanning the crowd for me. I sneak up behind him and tap his shoulder, and he turns on his heels, smiling widely when he sees me. "There you are!" He laughs and leans down, wrapping his arms around me in an extra-tight bear hug, and I grunt a bit but hug him back. "Congrats, buddy!" "Thanks, Andy," I say, panting slightly when he lets go. "I'm so proud," he says, beaming at me. "It's not that big a deal," I say with a small laugh. He's being ridiculous, but it's also very sweet of him. After all, he gives me more parental attention than my own parents. It's always been like that. He just punches my shoulder gently. "Of course it is!" he says. "I barely graduated, and you killed it." "I wouldn't say that," I say with a laugh. But he's not having it. "Seriously? You got a free ride to Valley and you wouldn't say you killed it?" He smiles at me. "That's something to be proud of." I guess my "hard" work did pay off, because in the fall, I'll be going to school nearby on a full scholarship. I'd have to pay room and board, but I chose to commute, thinking I can muster up enough money over the summer to buy a cheap car. All in all, I guess things are looking well. He bites his lip a bit before adding another comment. "Mom would be proud too." It's always funny when he says things like that because it makes it sound like she's dead, or "in a better place", or "watching over me". The truth is, she's probably high in her room right now, barely conscious of time, let alone her own son. Andy's always defending her (which is ludicrous to me) but I let it slide. I'm just happy he's so pleased about this. "I guess," I say. He can tell mentioning Mom dampens the mood a bit, so he says something else. "Why don't we go out for dinner and celebrate?" Just as I'm about to answer, Kelly and a few other girls all swarm nearby, one of them grabbing my arm. "Come over tonight," Kelly says excitedly. "My dad's throwing a big barbeque or something." I glance at Andy, who just shrugs. "You can go with your friends if you want." It's an easy choice. I don't really want to see anyone else today, and Andy made an effort to be here for me. So I choose to spend my evening with him. "I have dinner plans already," I say to Kelly with a slight smile. She sighs heavily but doesn't push it. "Fiiine," she whines. "But call me later, okay?" "Of course," I tell her, making the rounds of hugs before I have Andy lead the way out of this godforsaken building. Finally... freedom. I have no preference as far as dinner goes so I let Andy choose the restaurant, and I almost regret it. I should have realized he would just take us to Applebee's. It's his favorite restaurant for some unknown reason, which makes me question his taste, but I can't complain. I let him choose. The waitress sets us in the corner of the building and, after we comb through the menu and put our orders in, we're alone. "I don't know why you like this place so much," I tease, taking a sip of my water. He chuckles. "I don't know why you hate this place so much." "It's so..." What's the word? "Not that good." "Listen, you said you had no preference--" "I know, I know," I say, laughing. "I chose to suffer." He smiles at me for a moment before biting his lip as he reaches into his pocket. "So. I have a little something for you," he says. I arch my eyebrow, surprised. "What?" "Just a little graduation gift," he says, pulling something out of his pocket. He sets a small box on the table and slides it over. I smile, moving my glass to the side and grabbing the box. "You didn't have to get me anything, Andy." He just shrugs. "Sure I did." Then he smiles from me to the box and says "Open it!" It's one of those gifts that's wrapped so spectacularly that I don't want to tear the paper off. Honestly, I swear Andy has a gift for wrapping gifts. Maybe that's his calling... If that's even a thing. I gently peel back the tape until the packaging unfolds without me tearing through the whole thing like a madman. Inside is a nondescript box, and when I pull off the lid, I peer inside. A watch. A very simple but elegant analog watch. Most definitely expensive. And familiar, somehow. Before I can thank him, he defends his purchase. "It's not anything crazy," he says, scratching his head. "I just thought it'd be cool if we had kind of matching watches." So that's why it looks familiar. The watch he wears is the same exact type. His has dark blue accents though, and mine has green -- my favorite color. "It's stupid, right?" Andy says. "It's stupid. You can say it." I laugh. "No, no, I love it," I say honestly. I pull the watch out of the box and fix it around my wrist, checking it out. I reach over and grab his hand and bring our watches together for comparison, and I smile. Sure, in the back of my mind I know it's a little silly, but at the same time, I find the gift incredibly endearing. "I can return it and just give you the money if you--" "I want the watch," I interrupt, smiling before sitting back. "Thank you. Honestly." He smiles brightly, clearly happy I like the gift. "You're welcome." I play with my fingers lightly. "And, thanks for coming today," I add. There are other things I want to say too, like "Thanks for always being here for me" or "I wish we were closer." I think the fact that he had to unwillingly step up as a parent when he was a teenager in order for this house to function changed our brotherly dynamic. It's a lot of responsibility to peg onto a kid. But selfish little me only just started realizing this. "You're a better parent to me than our parents are," I admit. He blushes. "Don't say that." "I mean it," I insist. He tries not to smile. "I don't want you to feel like I'm a parent. I still wanna be your big brother." I smile. "Well, regardless... I love you," I say. He smiles that bright smile of his again. We don't say those three words often to each other, so when we do, it's always purposeful. "Love you too, Joshy." "So how are you?" I ask after a moment, sitting back in my seat and playing with my watch a bit. "This is the first time we've really sat down together in a while." "Besides bowling," he points out, but I just smile. "That doesn't count." He laughs. "Fair. Um... I'm not too bad, I guess." I wonder if he'll offer up anything to me instead of Milly. I start slow. "How are things at the shelter?" "Oh, they're great," he says brightly. "We had a big adoption event and over half the dogs got adopted. Never seen such a good turnout." "That's awesome," I say, smiling about how happy he gets when he talks about his job. "I'm glad you like it there." "I really do, man. Could be something permanent. Just wish it paid better." "That's fair," I say. Andy doesn't know that I know, but I've noticed that some (if not most) of the bills on the house only get paid if he takes care of it. Luckily we own the house so there's no mortgage to worry about, but honestly, I'm not sure how we stay afloat on his already limited budget. Now I feel like a shitty person. When have I ever held a job? And not once has Andy complained or asked for my help. Not once. "How are things in general?" "Oh, you know. Busy, but I'm hangin' on," he says vaguely. I don't think it's a matter of him being sketchy. I think it's just a matter of him not wanting to complain. Which is funny because complaining is my favorite thing to do. "Well if you need anything, just ask," I say. "I feel like you keep doing shit for me and I'm just... not doing anything." "That's not true," he says. "It IS true." And I know it. "You were busy with school." I roll my eyes. "That hardly counts," I say. "You work all day and make sure I'm fed and comfortable and Mom is okay and I've just completely detached myself," I say. "And I never even check if you're okay." I'm only realizing this as I speak. I could blame our schedules and our introversion all day long, but when it comes down to it, I was just never there for him like he was for me. When really was the last time I made myself available for him to open up when he needed to? If ever? "I'm sorry," I say. I'm pretty sure I'm overexaggerating, but damn, I feel like a shitty brother. "You don't have to apologize," he says, looking at me curiously. "I'm fine. Really. You don't need to worry about me." I just sigh slightly. Why do I get the sense that he's just saying that to make me feel better? It wouldn't be the first time. So, throughout the rest of our dinner, I'm thinking one thought: what will he tell Milly? Andy continues to impress me, both as Milly and myself. Over the course of two weeks, I find myself looking forward to each conversation, smiling when I get a text from him, eagerly opening any message he sends me. I knew he was easy to talk to, but I didn't know he was THIS easy and understanding and patient. And funny, too. Sometimes I'll find myself laughing out loud at the stupid things he'll send me. His energy makes me open up too. I find myself being genuine with him and letting little things slip that I don't usually think to tell guys -- like how into comics I am and how I collect quarters. But one thing I notice especially about Andy is that he hasn't asked me for nudes. Usually within the first two days of correspondence, a guy will compliment Milly with words like "sexy" rather than "beautiful" and then attempt to slyly ask for dirty pictures (or otherwise flat-out ask for them). Every time, without fail. Andy seems to be the gentleman of the bunch. Not once has he asked anything sexual. I find that sort of endearing, but also strange. It's just something I'm not used to. In an interest to get to the bottom of things, I ask him a question that's been in the back of my head for a while. "how come you're single??" I ask as Milly. Honestly, it's hard to believe that he hasn't found someone yet. He seems like an absolute catch. Whatever girl ends up with him is sure to be treated right. "Oh man haha", he sends back. "I don't know, just hasn't happened yet". "how?? you're a total catch". "Haha that's sweet of you to say". Then: "I'm not good enough for anyone around here I think". Is he kidding? "seriously? why?" "The girls are all way outta my league". "have some confidence!" "I don't have any lol". I blink before sending another message. "really?" "Yeah". "why do you think that?" "I'm just not super happy with myself, you know?" "but why?" I ask, and when he doesn't respond back immediately, I persist. "talk to me, andy". Then: "you can tell me anything". It takes him a while to respond, and it's because he types out a long message. The first line is "I just don't like myself very much", and he goes on to detail everything he's not content with. He feels like he's "dumb as shit", like he's going nowhere, like he's a fuck-up, like he's futureless, like he's not passionate about anything for longer than a few months, like he's stuck because of his lack of passion AND the fact that he feels like the primary caretaker of me and our mom, like it's too difficult for him to open up in person because he's spent so long keeping things down in order to "keep the peace" at home, like he flat-out can't open up because his dad spent so much of his younger years telling him shit like "be a man" and hitting him whenever he showed any semblance of sadness... It's a lot to hear, especially considering I never thought Andy thought so little of himself. I didn't even know Dad hit Andy as a kid, because he never hit me. It breaks my heart. "Sorry if I said too much", he says at the end. "I completely ranted". "don't apologize, andy", I say. "I wanna be here for you". Before I can figure out which part of his message to address first, he sends something back. "You have no idea how much I appreciate that. I feel like I have no one sometimes". I bite my lip. I know what he means by feeling like he has no one. Andy has lots of friends, but I'm sure they're like a lot of my friends: auxiliary. They don't really serve any other purpose in my life aside from having fun on occasion. The only person I have deep, meaningful conversations with is Kelly. Does Andy also have a friend like that? "do you feel lonely?" I ask. "Oh for sure", he says. Then: "I've never even had sex lol". That shocks me. Andy's a virgin? It really isn't that big of a deal, but it's just so surprising... He's neither unattractive nor unpopular. "How big of a loser does that make me?" "you're not a loser", I assure him. "why haven't you? i'm just curious". "I'm just not ready", he says. "It's scary". "scary?" Hardly a word I would usually use to describe sex. "Yeah, I feel like I'd be too vulnerable or something. I don't know. I'm not making sense." "you're making perfect sense", I say, and I mean it. I get it. If he has a hard time opening up just about himself, I can't imagine opening up sexually is easy. Though for me, it's never been a problem. I'm the prince of emotionless sex. "deciding not to have sex is your choice and that doesn't make you a loser. none of what you said does". When he doesn't respond for at least ten minutes, I send him another message. "you okay, hun?" "Yeah". Then: "I think I'm depressed." Then: "I don't know what to do about that". After hearing all this, it makes sense for him to feel that way. I think my mom is depressed too, but she's so drugged out most of the time that I can never really tell what her true emotions are. And my dad only comes around every so often just to ask me how school is going and if Andy is keeping up with the house, as if it's his responsibility. That's a nice environment for kids to develop depression early on. Tack on a possible genetic disposition? No hope. "can you talk to anyone?" I ask. "Like a therapist?" "yeah". "I mean I probably should but it's scary too. And expensive. I can't afford that." Such is the country we live in. "why is it scary?" "It's just opening up to a person whose job it is to judge you". While that's not a totally fair evaluation, I understand where he's coming from. And I already know Andy's stance on drugs: a big fat "NO". "i know what you mean", I say. "i'm too stubborn to believe that doctors might know better than i do. isn't that fucked up?" "I feel that completely", he says. Then: "Are you depressed too?" I give him the honest answer. I tell him that I don't know. That it's possible. That I'm often sad for no reason, which I've gotten used to at this point. Sometimes I get pangs of emotions like hopelessness and sometimes my lack of appetite and restlessness mess with my physical health, but overall, I feel like I'm just very... blah. I exist in a sort of middle ground, where I'm neither happy nor sad. So I'm not sure what I am. "Absent" is the word I use to describe myself to Andy. But I must be fucked-up on some level that I don't even realize. I mean, why else do I catfish? I've immersed myself into the world of Milly so much that it's almost like a second personality. I don't totally hate being my authentic self, but I can't say I enjoy it. I sure as hell hated myself when I started catfishing, but even though I've matured and grown a bit since then, I've latched onto Milly. The allure of being someone else is just too strong to give up. "I'm sorry. I wish you didn't feel so absent, that must be scary," he says, and I smile sadly. He's so attentive even when he's the one struggling. "Also it's weirdly comforting to know you feel similar things". I type up a quick response. "I know you don't know what to do about all of this, but at least know that you're not alone". That's important for him to know. "I know that now," he says with a smiley face. "Thank you, Milly". "you're welcome, hun," I say, tacking on a little heart at the end of the message. Then he hits me another text. "I really like you, Milly". And before I can react, before I can think about what I'm about to say, I respond in turn with "I like you too, Andy". It takes me a few moments to realize what I just said. And then it clicks. I get this strange sensation in the pit of my stomach -- not because I lied, but because what I said was genuine. I said it as Josh, not Milly. I didn't reciprocate his feelings as a means of getting him to keep talking to me, or to send me nudes, or to talk dirty to me. It was an honest, subconscious thought. I like Andy. And once that realization hits, I'm thrown for a total loop. I like Andy? My brother? I spend the rest of the night questioning myself. Did I really mean that? Do I really have some sort of feelings for him? It becomes clear in the morning, when I join him downstairs for breakfast. Right when I sit down, when he smiles at me from across the table with his spoon in his hand, a mouth full of cereal, and milk dripping off his lips a bit, I realize the truth. I'm attracted to my brother. As he chews on his cereal (a bit sloppily, honestly), I eat mine slowly, staring at him. Yep. I'm definitely attracted to him. When the hell did that happen? Under normal circumstances, the thought of him has never REALLY crossed my mind. Fleetingly, sure, but I've never fantasized about him in any real capacity. At face value, I wouldn't normally be into him. He's not really my type. He's just a typical white guy who happens to be a ginger, and I tend to be attracted to people who are different than me. But after getting to know him via Milly for the past few weeks, I've found that there's a lot to him. A lot to like, and to love, and to enjoy. And I think that heavy talk last night really shifted my perspective. Maybe I've been developing this crush on him all this time and never really realized until last night. But this poses a problem. I'm sure I can nip these feelings in the bud with a little bit of time, but I've crossed the line with Milly. He likes her. He really likes her. And it's obvious because he mentions her half-way through his cereal. "So, uh... I've been talking to someone." I take pause, my concern about my new crush taking a backseat. "Sorry, what?" "I've been talking to someone," he repeats. Oh shit. "Who?" I ask, though I know damn well who. "This girl. Milly." I bite my lip. "Where'd you meet her?" "Tinder." "Oh," I say, though I'm not sure where to go from here. I have this urge to come clean, but he'd probably never speak to me again. He notices something in my voice, though, and he looks at me. "What?" I have to think of something quick. "What if she's not real?" I ask, reminding him of Julie's profile. Maybe this will be a good way to instill doubt in him. "But it's Tinder," he says. "Tinder's different." "People can still be fake on Tinder," I point out. But he's determined to believe this, it seems. "Yeah, but she's sent me pictures and stuff." I sigh. "But Andy--" "I know what you're thinking," he says, "but I have a good feeling about this one. She's amazing." Seeing the way he smiles all dreamily like that breaks my heart. "She's super cute and sweet and ... it feels good to talk to someone that really gets it." I bite my lip. "Gets what?" He just shrugs, looking at his cereal. "You know. General shit," he says vaguely, not offering up any specifics. "She's just..." He sighs in a happy way. "I really like her, man. Is that weird?" I have to stop this, I realize. I'm breaking one of my cardinal rules by not immediately shutting this down. Once emotions come into play, it's a problem. Maybe I'll just do what I do with the other guys who start to fall for Milly: disappear. If I just block Andy and never reach out to him again, maybe he'll get over it. It'll hurt him, I know that. But it'll hurt him more down the line if I let this continue. So I toss out the rest of my cereal (suddenly my appetite is gone) and excuse myself, heading upstairs to grab my phone. Just as I open it to start drawing up a message to Andy (thinking that I'll pretend like I have a boyfriend or something), I see a missed call, and a missed text. From Mr. White. "I'm outside", he said. The hell? Outside... my house? And sure enough, when I glance out of the window, I see his car sitting idly in the driveway. Is he insane? What the fuck is he doing here? I put on some pants and make my way downstairs, passing by Andy in the kitchen. He's still working through his cereal. "I'll be right back," I tell him, and he nods mid-chew as I slip outside, fast-walking barefoot to Mr. White's exceptionally noticeable car. Anyone at school would know it's his. Who else in this town drives a taupe Tesla? When I get to his door, I knock on the window and signal for him to lower the window. But he just cocks his head towards the passenger seat. Irritated, I roll my eyes and get into the car on the other side, shutting the door and rounding on him. "What the hell are you doing here?" "I wanted to see you," he says, looking me up and down. He doesn't seem to think there's anything wrong with this. In fact, I can tell from his tone that he thinks he's being sexy and romantic by showing up to my house to... what, sweep me off my feet? He's so corny. "You can't show up at my house," I tell him. "My brother is home." "So?" "And everyone knows what kind of car you drive because you make SURE everyone knows you can afford a Tesla," I say irritably. "It looks suspicious." "No one's gonna say anything," he says, totally calm. I think he's just horny, though. "I would have thought YOU wouldn't want to get caught." "I just want to be with you," he says. "Is that a crime?" Jesus Christ. If he wasn't so hot I wouldn't even be trying to rationalize with him. "You need to leave." "Come out with me," he says, putting his hand on my thigh. "Um... Where?" I ask, almost laughing. "I got us a room at that hotel you liked." At the mention of the hotel, I almost agree. It was a fantastic hotel. Free pool, hot tub, and spa access... And he let me order as much room service as my heart desired. But I'm not even dressed. I'm still in pajamas, looking like I just rolled out of bed. And this just isn't a good idea. "I have plans," I lie. I can't keep going out with him and spending full days with him in hotel rooms or fancy restaurants. I should end this too. He has kids, for Christ's sake. Which, if I'm being honest, is sort of hot to me... but his more-than-sexual interest in me is troublesome. "C'mon, Josh," he says, sounding almost desperate. "I haven't had sex in over a week." "Fuck your wife," I suggest. "She's on her period," he says. "And you didn't come see me all week." True. I've been somewhat ignoring his advances. Once I started really reevaluating what kind of person I am towards my brother, I thought about my relationship with Mr. White. I don't want to be a homewrecker. And if he's getting as audacious as to show up at my house, we're bound to get caught sooner or later. "I've been busy," I tell him. "Josh--" "You really should leave," I say, "and stop showing up here unannounced." Wanting to remove myself from this situation, I put my hand on the handle to the door. But before I can open it and step outside, Mr. White leans over, grabs the back of my head with one firm hand, and kisses me hard. Damn it. And I barely even struggle. I just melt into it. It does feel nice to kiss him. I get that warmth throughout my body I've grown accustomed to when we're together. In my head, I keep telling myself to resist... But when his hand slides up my thigh, I know I'm foregone. I find myself sliding over to his side of the car and straddling him, and the kissing deepens. He puts his hands on my back and then slides them all the way down to my ass, squeezing each cheek. I moan against his luscious lips, pushing my hips into him and grinding slightly. He's hard in those chinos. I can tell. He was probably hard the moment he saw me walk out my front door. I can't deny the fact that I drive this man to cheat so often is a bit of a confidence booster. I'm sure he's in love with me. He won't admit it with words, but it's obvious. And now he's got me all horned up. I slide my hands near the top few buttons of his (ugly) short-sleeved button-up and then tear it open with all my strength. He grunts a bit, breaking the kiss and looking down at my hands before saying "What the f--?" "Shut up," I tell him, and immediately go back to kissing him. I tear open the rest of the shirt and then drag my fingernails lightly down his smooth torso. Now he gives me a few moans, and I grin slightly against his lips. If he wants me, he's gonna get me. I tell him to move the seat back and he does so, sliding it as far back as he possibly can. Then he leans the back of the seat all the way down so that he's practically lying down with me on top of him. Without missing a beat, his hands are back on my ass, but I grab his wrists and pin them above his head. "No touching," I say, and he just nods submissively. I lick my lips a bit, leaning down and kissing his chin lightly as my hand very, very slowly works its way towards his crotch. I kiss him as I finally start grope his bulge, feeling out his hard-on through his thin pants. I'm in that trance again, I can tell. I always get it when I'm about to have sex. Most of the time I lose all sense of restraint, rationality, sensibility... I know in the back of my head that we shouldn't be fooling around in my driveway. I basically live in the suburbs. I can see at least ten houses from this position alone. But my body responds just how Mr. White wants it to respond: desperately. I quickly unbutton his chinos and fish his cock out from the open fly. He moans once I get my eager fingers around his shaft and I lick my lips slightly. Giving him a few deep strokes, I start sliding down. But of course, my ass hits the steering wheel JUST enough to make the horn beep for the smallest fraction of a second. I swear under my breath. It was so quick a noise, though, that I doubt anyone heard. "There's not enough room in here," I say, wanting nothing more than to put his dick in my mouth right now. "Turn around," he suggests, and I do so, straddling his chest with my ass facing him as I move my face closer to his crotch. Without wasting any time, I have my lips around him. I hear him moan out in gratitude as I take him deep, apply a little suction, and slide back up slowly. My tongue works in smooth circles, making sure to slide against every damn bit of that sensitive head of his. Why does he taste so fucking good? Sometimes I like to pull off and just lap at the head, getting as much precum as I possibly can. But this isn't one of those times. This is rushed, needy sex. I spread his legs a bit and tilt my head just at a slightly better angle to take him deeper, deeper, deeper, until I'm gagging a bit as my lips touch his balls. Mr. White moans loudly, reaching around to hold my head down as he lifts his hips up and keeps me deep. Not being able to breathe right now is almost like a high. I get lost and dizzy in the feeling of his cock so deep in my throat that I start to forget who I am, what I'm doing, what's going on. Then he lets go, and I pull off to take a massive gulp of air. I cough a bit, holding the base of his cock and giving him loose strokes as I catch my breath. Fuck, he's wet. I can hear those slick noises over my coughing as I jerk him off. I also feel his hands on my sides and running over my ass, squeezing at my cheeks through my pajamas. I close my eyes as his thumb presses between my cheeks to pet at my hole even through two layers of fabric. Still, it makes me moan ever so slightly. "I wanna fuck you," he says. "Right here?" "Why not?" he asks, already starting to pull my pants down. But I stop him, pulling away. "No," I tell him, but he quickly reaches up and gets his hand on my neck, promptly pulling me down on top of him. He tilts my face towards his and kisses me deeply as my back rests on his front and his cock juts out between my legs. Then, I feel his hand slowly sliding down my body, inching closer and closer to my crotch until finally, his hand makes contact. I moan against his lips, my legs twitching, and I nudge the fucking horn again. "God damn i--" I start to say, but he ropes me into more kisses, not letting me speak, not allowing me to move. He knows he's got me. His hand is so nicely groping me that I can do little else but grind into his palm as we kiss. Is he really gonna try to fuck me in this car? "Josh?" Both of us freeze at the sound of hearing my name come from a muffled voice. From outside the car. I turn my head towards the window and sure enough, someone's looking in. Andy. He sees me and looks confused, but his eyes go wide when he notices who I'm on top of. My heart fucking drops. I knew this was a bad idea. I fucking knew we'd get caught. I swear, hastening to pull myself off of Mr. White, and he lets me escape. I open the door and step out, shutting it as quickly as possible so that Andy can't catch a glimpse of the raging hard on jutting out of my teacher's pants. Between how hot it was in the car and how stressed I am about being caught, I'm sweating a bit, and breathing heavily. "What's... going on?" Andy says, looking back and forth between me and the car still. Before I can answer, we hear the Tesla's engine turn on before Mr. White backs out of the driveway and speeds out of sight. We both watch him go, which gives me a little time to attempt to collect my thoughts. "I can explain," I finally say. Andy turns back to me, his eyebrows still arched high. I can't tell what he's thinking. He knows who Mr. White is. Everyone does. He had him as a teacher when HE was in high school. He knows that he's married and has kids. He knows I'm still underage. Is he pissed? Disappointed? Is he going to rat Mr. White out? But just as he opens his mouth, I interrupt. "Please don't tell anyone," I say desperately. "Please." He looks surprised at my outburst, and he looks me over before saying "Are you okay?" Am I okay? "Yeah..." "He's not, like... hurting you or anything?" "No, of course not." "Are you sure?" He seems concerned more than anything else, and that calms me down. "I'm sure." "Okay." He hugs himself slightly, clearly thinking hard about what to do, but I feel awkward under his gaze. Jesus, my heart is racing. My nerves are through the roof. What if this gets out? My name would be out there, wouldn't it? Who knows what that'd mean for me. Then: "I won't tell anyone." The relief I feel is immense, and I almost just slump over to the ground. "Thanks," I say. "Why don't we... go back inside," he suggests, and I nod a bit. He gestures for me to lead the way, so I let him follow behind as we head back towards the house. I feel like I'm doing the walk of shame or something. I've never felt so exposed. But it could have been worse. I could be naked right now. Mr. White's dick could have been inside of me. All Andy saw was us making out as he was groping me, probably. When we get inside, I start to make my way upstairs, but he stops me. "Wait wait wait," he says as he shuts the door, and I sigh a bit, looking at him. He steps inside the living room more and leans against the couch slightly, looking up at me. "How long has this been going on?" "Why does it matter?" I don't realize how snippy that sounded until I notice his face. I think I'm just eager to go to my room and shame myself to sleep. "I'm just trying to understand--" "It's not your business, Andy," I tell him in as unaggressive a voice as possible. But he just scoffs. "He's married, Josh. With kids!" "I know that," I say in a small voice, looking at my hands. There's a pause before he asks another question. "Are you two... together or something?" The look of near-repulsion probably gives away my answer. "No," I say. "It's just sex. And before you say anything," I add, interrupting him, "I was already planning on ending things." "I'm not here to judge you," he clarifies. "'He's married, Josh'," I mock in his voice. "'With kids!'" "Yeah, but..." And then he stops, sighing heavily as he rubs his face with his palm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Now HE'S apologizing? He's too nice. I have to center myself a bit and take a breath. "I'm sorry," I say in a softer voice once I calm myself. "I know you mean well." I'm just terribly embarrassed. He bites his lip. "I'm just... surprised, is all," he says. "And I'm just looking out for my little brother." "I know," I say with a slight smile, which he returns. Then he looks away a bit, scratching the back of his head. "Well. I guess I'll let you go," he says. I bite my lip a bit. "Actually... I could use some advice." He seems to brighten up at the idea of me coming to him for advice. "Yeah?" I nod and come back down the stairs and take a seat on the couch. He joins me, looking at me with a clearly attentive expression. "I just don't know what to do," I say. "About Mr. White?" "Yeah," I say, though this is also about him and Milly. Funny how ironic some of the parallels to Milly are. "I think Mr. White is in love with me." "Seriously?" Andy says, surprised. "How long have you--?" "Over a year." "Jesus," he says, looking away for a brief moment before nodding. "Why do you think he's in love with you?" I explain to him how Mr. White acts around me. His romantic advances, the way he treats me... Somewhere along the line it stopped being just about sex. "And I don't feel the same way. And even if I did, I don't want to be a homewrecker." He nods slightly, thinking about it for a moment. "Well, you probably know what I'm going to say..." he says with a slight smile. "Break it off, I know," I say. He's one of the good guys. Always tries to do the "right", morally-sound thing in any situation. "But I don't know... how." "Just be honest," he says, as if honesty is simple for me. "Tell him you don't feel that way." "But I'm selfish," I admit. "I don't WANT to give up the whole thing." I love having sex with him. And frankly, as annoying as the attention is sometimes, it's kind of... nice to be wanted in that way. By someone real. "You gotta make some sacrifices at some point," he says, patting my thigh. I sigh. Sacrifices is not something that I really want to do, but again, that's just me being selfish. He's right. "What if he's pissed?" I ask. Then I look at Andy. "How would you feel if you were him?" "If I were him?" he asks, scratching his chin. "I guess... If I were him, I'd be hurt. But I'd get over it because I'd know you made the right decision." He half-smiles a bit. "I think you two are just getting swept up in this... thing, and you're forgetting who you're hurting. Maybe some perspective will help." He's right. How often do I practically space out when Mr. White and I are fucking? I don't think about the consequences of our actions. Sometimes I think about what'll happen if we were caught by his wife, but that's more of a sexual fantasy rather than a real-life possibility. I mean, affairs destroy lives. He'd have to divorce his wife of God knows how many years, probably register as a sex offender, lose his job and the respect of his peers, lose custody of his kids... And even if I'm sitting here saying "Well I don't LOVE him," and even if Mr. White is more at fault than I am, I'm still very much culpable. I'm still responsible for the pain that could come from this. So when it comes to Andy, I guess the question is: how badly am I hurting him?