Stepbrother With Benefits 17 (Third Season) (5 page)

F
or some reason
I thought it'd be nice to register for afternoon classes. I don't know why. It's what I did last year, but this year is kind of completely different.

Here's what I did last year:

I'd stay out late a lot of the time. Sometimes I'd go to parties on campus. There's plenty of places for it. I'm pretty sure there was probably a party last night if I wanted to check it out. I didn't, because I was busy talking with Ashley and eating my burritos and nachos, but there probably was one. It was a thing that existed.

I might spend the night with a girl. Obviously I'm not doing that now, but last year, uh... yeah, you know how it is. Don't judge me for that. I was never a dick, alright? If I stayed over, I'd ask them if they wanted to go get breakfast or something.

I had plenty of time in the morning because I scheduled my classes for the afternoon. Maybe ten in the morning at the earliest. Still plenty of time. How much fucking sleep do you think I need?

So then I'd have classes, go to football practice, do... homework...
maybe
... or usually I'd just wait until later. And repeat this a lot. Maybe every day. Sometimes partying got old for awhile, so that's usually when homework came in. You can't party every fucking day, you know? Or maybe just a quieter night in playing video games in the common rooms, going to play pool somewhere, just walking around. Who the fuck knows?

The point is that my mornings were spent sleeping in, and I kind of just scheduled my classes based around that habit, except I have no reason to sleep in anymore.

What am I doing instead? Thanks for asking. I'm sitting at my desk, waiting until the cafeteria opens at eight so I can get some food. I'm also staring at my computer trying to figure out how the fuck to write a love letter.

This is seriously the hardest thing I've ever done, no joke. It's like... alright, I want this to be nice, you know? I want it to be deep and moving, but not too much. It's fine if Ashley cries a little, but I don't want her bawling her eyes out or anything. I want it to be sexy enough that after she reads it she kind of wants to get naked with me, but subtle enough about it that she doesn't think it's too porny of anything.

Maybe Caleb was right about my poem last night. Fuck you, Caleb. I really liked that poem.

I mean... maybe... just maybe... a good love letter should be poetic, and take a little more time than a few seconds to write. I feel like this is something I should consider. Also, I need some help with this. Not from Caleb, because what the fuck does he know about love letters? No offense to him or anything, but seriously, he can't even ask Scarlet on a date.

I go to Google and search for love poems or something. There's a lot of results. Holy fuck, who knew love poems were so popular?

I find one by Emily Bronte. She seems like she knows what she's talking about. Charlotte Bronte's sister? Aw yeah. You know what Charlotte Bronte wrote?
Jane Fucking Eyre!
Without the fucking. There's no fucking going on in
Jane Eyre
, at least not in the book I read. Maybe there's an uncensored version?

Because, yeah, I don't know if you've read it, but there's some heaving bosoms happening and I'm pretty fucking sure Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester wanted each other bad. I don't even have to be sure, since that's practically the entire point of the book. It's a good book. Kind of old, I guess, but whatever.

I read it for a class. Don't fucking judge me. Girls were totally into it, too. Oh, Ethan, you're reading
Jane Eyre?
Do you want to talk to me about heaving bosoms sometime? We can study together...

Yeah, so,
Jane Eyre
, and Charlotte Bronte, who is Emily Bronte's sister or something, which brings me to this poem, and stop looking at me like I'm crazy. I'm writing a love letter for Ashley over here.

The poem is called
Love and Friendship
, which I like. It's not just about love, it's about friendship, too. Kind of obvious, but I think that's the type of love I want to have with Ashley. It's basically exactly the kind of love we have. It's nice. I like it a lot.

I read the poem, trying to figure out what the fuck I'm doing.

W
ow
. Who the fuck knew these Bronte sisters were kinky as fuck? Yeah, first it's Charlotte Bronte and Jane Eyre's heaving bosom towards Mr. Rochester, and now it's her sister, Emily, talking about some guy leaving her garland's green. I know what that means. Don't even try to fucking tell me otherwise.

Love and sex and lust and stuff is like this rose-briar. Like Ashley's pussy, right? It's the good girl gone bad, letting her freak out, all wild and rosy and flowery as fuck. Pussy lips like the fucking petals of a rose... plump and red and beautiful, slick with her arousal.

I got this. I know what I'm talking about here.

Then you've got the holly-tree which is Ashley being a good girl. Except, whoa fuck, that holly part is
dark
when the rose-briar blooms. So, you know how Ashley kind of gives in to her wild side when we're doing sexy stuff, but otherwise she's a good girl in public? Yeah, that's this.

I'm serious. I know what I'm talking about.

And there's the battle. Good girl or bad girl? Can she be both? Should she give in to temptation, or be the responsible good girl she's always been. Are we going to get some of that sweet as fuck arousal of hers, slick and blossoming, just begging me to...

Fuck, this poem is erotic. Who the fuck knew?

Or, nah, is it going to be the holly-tree good girl thing going on. No sexy as fuck briar-roses here. Can they mix? Is the good girl allowed to give in to her passion behind closed doors with her lover? Will they still be friends after, or is this just a temporary lust or whatever the fuck?

Yeah, so, I'm pretty sure that's what this poem is. Pretty fucking sure. I like it. I need to write something like this. I'm not usually one for euphemisms. Pussy is a sexy as fuck word, so why not use it? I'm not going to call it her velvety love channel or anything. That's just stupid.

But... the rose bush and the holly tree is kind of cool. Sometimes I think Ashley is beautiful. I mean, not just sometimes, it's always, but sometimes I just look at her and I have no fucking idea what to say. It's more than her being beautiful, it's like... it's everything. I don't know what words to use.

It's the way her face lights up when she looks at me, and how it lights up different ways depending on what we're doing. I like how her cheeks turn red after we make love, and then she smiles at me like she's the happiest girl in the world. I like how her lips crook slightly like she's about to smile right before we kiss and then her mouth opens and I can taste her smile on her tongue.

Our relationship is like a poem, and I want to memorize every single one of the words. I want to write it down and recite it to her. I have no fucking clue how Emily Bronte did it, or who she was writing about, but I want to figure out how to do that, too, just for Ashley.

I write some things down on a piece of paper. An actual piece of paper. I'm not typing this out. This is personal and real, and I just feel like it's more real if I make it into a physical thing that I can see and hold and touch.

I'm not telling you what I write. It's a secret. Just calm the fuck down and wait until later, because Ashley is the first one who is going to read this. It's for her, so that makes sense, don't you think?

This is a lot more work than the poem I came up with last night. Holy fuck. I look up some more stuff on Google, back and forth, writing, researching, finding some webpages. Thesaurus? Dictionary? All of the above?

Yeah. I got this.

Before I realize it, it's a little past eight and the cafeteria is open now. I'm hungry, too. Ugh. Fucking ugh, man. It's hard to keep writing when I can't stop thinking about food. The more I try to write, the more I think about food, too. Frustrating as fuck, that's what that is.

I can come back to this, I guess. Also, maybe I should ask Scarlet about artistic junk? She does art, so she seems like she might know what she's talking about. I write that at the top of the paper, "Ask Scarlet" in big letters, all fucking capitalized so I don't forget.

Now it's time for food. I hope they have pancakes. Maybe some eggs and sausage, too. I'm starving.

Y
um
, food! Yes, I ate a tiny cinnamon apple danish at the coffee shop across the street, but that's not enough for breakfast. I still have plenty of time before my classes, too. It doesn't help that I have to pass by the cafeteria to get to the dorms and whatever they have today smells delicious. Just a peek won't hurt, right? I can look at it...

Um... well... looking turns into buying, which turns into eating. It's a good way to waste some time, and it's not like I have anything else to do. I'm probably the only person in the entire school who has done basically all of her homework for the first week and started on next week's work, along with spending a little time figuring out my final project for one of my classes.

What? I mean... yes... it's the second day of school, so I could probably hold back a little, but...

I don't want to! Ha! See? I'm a rebel! I'm the good girl gone bad who is doing more good things to, um... rebel against something...

Maybe I'm bad at this good girl gone bad thing. Oh well.

After eating, I head back to my dorm to get ready for my classes. Ugh. Eating breakfast didn't take nearly as long as I'd hoped. I still have way too much time before class. An hour? Really now, what am I supposed to do for an hour?

If I'm lucky, well... we'll see how that goes. I'll let you know soon.

Jacky is leaving the room right as I come back.

"Oh, hey!" she says, smiling. "How's it going?"

"Good," I say, smiling. "I was studying. Just grabbed breakfast, too. My classes aren't for a little bit. Are you heading out?"

"Ugh, yes," she says, swinging the door back open so I can sneak inside. "I thought it'd be a good idea to have morning classes this semester so I wouldn't be tempted to stay out too late. I didn't even think I stayed out late last night! I blame Kevin. He's a bad influence on me."

She gives me a sort of silly, mischievous smirk when she tells me that last part. Does that mean anything? Is she... with Kevin...? She said they're just friends before, but I've heard a lot of girls have a friends with benefits thing in college, since it's sometimes hard to date people. And, also, maybe you just don't even want to date anyone?

I might have thought it was a little strange last year, but who am I to judge? I kind of did the same thing with Ethan. Yes, it turned into more than a "with benefits" thing pretty quickly, but I'm guessing that doesn't always happen. Benefits can just be benefits, right?

I need more than benefits from Ethan, though. I need, um...

Jacky laughs at me and nudges her arm against mine as she steps away from the door. "I'm sure you know what I mean. Your boyfriend is probably a bad influence on you sometimes, too, huh?"

I blush. I'm pretty sure I'm already blushing, but I blush more. "Yup, um... maybe sometimes..."

This confirms it. She is, then. I think. With Kevin, I mean. Is that what she's getting at? Well, that's nice, right? Kevin seems nice.

"Alright, well, I'm going to be late," she says, hopping away from me quick and then jogging down the hall. Before she gets too far, she turns around. "I won't be back until two this afternoon, so if you're going to give in to some bad influence temptations with your boyfriend, the room's all yours for a few hours!"

"Jacky!" I say, trying not to laugh.

Also, it's not funny! There's other people in the halls, and they turn to look at us, then at me. A few of the girls shake their heads. Some are giggling, too.
Ugh.

I'm... I'm not, um... I'm not supposed to be like that. Am I? Nope, definitely not. I'm Ashley Banks and I'm a good girl and I follow the rules and I'm responsible. I am those things, and I'm definitely not the type of girl to...

Alright, so I give in to temptation sometimes, but it's just with Ethan and it's not like I'm irresponsible when I do it. Yes, we might have had sex in a few places we probably should not have been having sex. I think that's technically illegal, too.

Sex in public? How public is the bathroom at the beach, though? Honestly, that was all Ethan's fault. He came in on me when I was trying to shower, and then just shut the door of the shower stall behind him, locked it, and pushed me up against the wall before pulling my bikini bottoms aside. I had nothing to do with it.

Why didn't I lock the shower stall door before I started my shower? Um... you're not supposed to ask questions like that. I refuse to answer!

With my face burning red, I rush into my room to hide my embarrassed blush. I close the door behind me, but leave it unlocked for now. It's not like anyone's coming in, but I kind of want to pretend Ethan might show up randomly.

Just unannounced, you know? Oh, hello there, Ashley... I missed you so much that I couldn't wait until the weekend and now I'm here. You have the next few hours free, a room alone, no roommate?
Rawr.

Yes, in my head, in this daydream of my imagination, Ethan just rawred at me. I like it. It's kind of sexy.

Ethan's not coming, though. I know this. I have an idea for the next best thing, though.

I toss my backpack by my bed and immediately go to get my phone. It's plugged in and charging. Only half charged, but that's plenty to turn it on. I do, and wait for it to power up. For some reason it takes forever... or just a few seconds. I'm kind of impatient right now, alright?

When it's on, I check my text messages. There's none. Voice messages? Um... nope, none of those, either.

I go to text Ethan quick, but then I change my mind. I call him instead. His phone goes right to voicemail, which I'm pretty sure means it's dead. This is the worst day ever, isn't it?

"Um... I miss you," I say, leaving him a message. "Oh, this is Ashley, by the way! Um... you probably know that, though. Who else would it be? Wait, could it be someone else? Girls don't call you at school a lot, do they? Oh my God, why am I rambling? I just wanted to call to say hi and I miss you and it was really nice talking on the phone last night. My phone died, since we never hung up. I guess yours did too, huh? Charge it, Ethan! I need to talk to you. Or we can talk online, too. I guess if you're listening to this message your phone's charged already, so it'd be easier for you to call me or text me."

I'm talking to much. I don't even know why I'm saying any of this. It just kind of comes out.

"Well... I'll talk to you later," I say, finishing up. "I love you. If you get this soon, and you don't have classes for awhile, call me right away! My roommate won't be back until this afternoon. I've got class in about an hour, though, so I'm free right now. Maybe we can just talk some more? What did you have for breakfast? Alright, um... bye! I love you!"

I hang up fast before I can do more damage than I've already done. I mean, yes, Ethan knows me, and we've been dating for awhile, but really now, out of all the voicemail messages I could have left, how awful was that one? Pretty sure it was pretty awful...

Oh well.

I send him a quick text message, too, just in case he checks that before his voicemail.

Good! Now that that's settled, I have... still way too much time before my first class.

I take my stuff out of my backpack and sort through it. I put back everything I need for my classes today, which isn't much. My laptop sits idly on my bed, calling to me. I'm going to bring it with me to class, but I guess I can use it before class, too. Netflix or something?

I turn it on and sit on my bed, planning to stop being a crazy obsessive girlfriend. First off, I'm not crazy. I'm not obsessive, either! I'm... I'm passionate. About Ethan. Very passionate.

Since I've decided I'm not crazy or obsessive, I decide it's fine to check to see if he's online so we can webchat. Also, I need to yell at him to charge his phone. This is important. It's the responsible thing to do, don't you think? What would Ethan do without his phone if he got into an accident or some emergency happened, what then?

I don't expect much, except... um... yup, he's on? I click to send him a message, but instead of typing anything I just invite him to a webcam chat. It takes a second, but the invitation goes through and the view from Ethan's webcam pops up on my computer.

Ethan's there, but there's someone else, too. A girl's with him. Also...
wow...

This is not at all what I expected to see. Not even close. What is he doing? I can't believe this. Are you serious, Ethan?

Wow... just... just wow.