Hope, Charity , Faith Ch. 01

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* All characters in this story are of legal age. *

“Hey Jaleel; you gotta minute.” I was pulling my US History book from my locker near the end of my day anticipating a trip to my girlfriend’s house after school.

“Ricky, I gotta get to class man.” Ricky Arias had been my best bud since freshman year.

We’d bonded as brothers of the struggle through mutual incidents where we were bullied mercilessly by our peers. Ricky was chided for his pale skin and short, light brown afro along with a weird androgynous build. A lot of people joked that he lived on Sesame Street because he looked like a humanoid Muppet in their opinion. Me, I was a standard issue nerd awkward clothing provided by clueless parents labeled as “Chocolate Clark Kent” for the first three years of my student tenure. Ricky was my Ride or Die buddy without a shadow of a doubt.

“Uhm, you was talking about going over Kimberly’s house this morning, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well maybe you should take a raincheck on that shit.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“I’m saying you should come over and hang; in fact, it’s imperative to your mental stability that you come with me. Seriously man, come with me if you want to live.” My friend tended to quote Arnold Schwarzenegger during times of duress, but my mind was already made up.

“Ain’t nothing at your house gonna beat out my girl; I’m getting some pussy.” I slammed my locker door intending on leaving him there as I hurried to class.

“YOU AIN’T GETTING NO PUSSY TODAY!!” Ricky yelled after me quickly covering his mouth with both hands as other students, mostly females shot him disparaging looks.

“Man, I gotta get to my last class; what’re talking about?”

He closed the distance between us trying to put his arm around my shoulders in confidence, hunched over. I wasn’t as perceptive swiping his arm away a few times before he got the message. There were a few gossip hens watching and I didn’t need the false narrative following us around the halls.

“Look, I’m just calling in a friend favor; don’t go looking for Kimberly.” My brow furrowed at the unusual request. Ricky wasn’t much of a gambler with no poker face to speak of, so I was anxious to say the least.

“Don’t fuck with me man, spill it.”

“Look, you’re my homie so I wanna give you the option of not knowing.”

“Well, I say fuck that option.”

Something gripped me tight in the chest as I stared at his goofy looking features. It was really bad that he was pegged as a goof between lack of declared teenage masculinity and a hand puppet. But sometimes I got it when you looked at him in a certain light. The shitty thoughts filtering through my head were making me side with our mutual antagonists in that instant.

“She gone man, just gone.” The last class bell sounded making me late for US History. It was a class I shared with my girlfriend of two and a half years, Kimberly Bivens.

“What do you mean, she’s gone?”

“Off campus, with uh…a person.” Ricky shoved his hands in his pockets, contrite as we stared at one another.

I looked down at the textbook and folder in my grasp, before staring at my friend who just shrugged. I shook my head in mute denial of what was being suggested. I looked away down the open floor corridor of our school which had formerly in the far flung past, served as a warehouse. US History was just at the bottom of the stairs on the second floor. Kimberly Bivens was a straight A student meticulous in all facets of her life as a member of the student council and a cheerleader with a fair share of popularity.

“She ain’t here, Jaleel.” Ricky reiterated.

It was like having an out of body experience as I found myself bolting to the crowded stairwell stuffed to the gills full of high school students coming and going. I ignored the verbal abuse and irritated shoves from some of my classmates as I negotiated the stairs ending up at the border of the second floor. My last class was second from the stairwell, but I hesitated. Ricky’s raised eyebrow expression lingered in my empty skull.

“Jaleel, she ain’t there.” I found Ricky at my back. He’d followed knowing where I was going amidst the thinning crowd of students entering their myriad classrooms.

I took a deep breath steeling myself before glancing at the half opened door of my last class for the day. I was in the zone now, measuring my steps to the door peering inside finding everyone present…except for Kimberly Bivens, my girlfriend of two and a half years. She’d insisted that our relationship remain private opting to always take the first seat adjacent to the class door while I sat dead center in class.

That seat was empty.

I turned to Ricky who looked away with this hunched over posture that spoke to his embarrassment for me. Earlier in the morning we’d been talking nerd politics in the school cafeteria and I’d casually mentioned hooking up with my girlfriend. Kimberly’s strict parents were forced to leave her at home under the bursa escort watchful eye of her shut-in older sister to deal with a sick relative one state over.

She’d slyly mentioned it and the opportunity to have sex fully nude. Our previous couplings consisted of fooling around when the opportunity presented itself due to a militantly strict father and religious, church going mother. We’d hatched a plan to go to her place after school and do the deed au naturel in every sense of the term.

“Where is she?!” My hands were full of Ricky’s shirt almost throttling him in ragged volcanic emotion.

He looked nervous motioning over his shoulder with a thumb to the hall monitors stationed there. These were student members of the police explorer outreach program. The male and female student were presently engaged in flirtatious conversation oblivious to our actions a few feet away.

In fact the student desk which served as an impromptu office was occupied by the uniformed student officer, while his rotund female partner sat atop it, her big, chunky ass obscuring his view of us. I noticed a hand caressing the curve of her derriere. Ricky managed to gently disengage my hands, looking anxious for his own safety.

“I went to that food truck at the back of the school during lunch; I was walking back with my hoagie when I saw Kimberly in the passenger seat of some dude’s ride. I couldn’t see who it was, but when they turned out of the parking lot right in front of me, I looked down into the car and…”

“What?”

“She hand a handful of this guy’s junk. Motherfucker had his dick out getting a hand job and had no fucks to give who saw that shit, man. Sorry, but they were hugged up like a uhm, couple.”

I was stopped in my tracks fully shocked at his account. It was one of those moments when you were able to picture everything in your mind’s eye. Everything came with an extreme clarity that twisted this invisible knife in my back. I wasn’t there but I could see her doing exactly what my friend said. That didn’t sit well with me one bit. I could feel the rage engulfing me and I knew it wouldn’t abate without a target as I glared at my best friend.

“Ricky, we gotta go.”

“WHERE?!”

Ten minutes later I was sitting in the passenger seat of my good friend Ricky Arias, trusty cream colored, black trimmed Hatchback Brigade, speeding towards what I thought would be an epic confrontation. I was intent on pummeling the guy making time with my girl. I was entertaining thoughts of this epic movie ending brawl that would completely destroy Kimberly’s bedroom. I was also scared to death at what I would find once we arrived at her home.

“Maybe you should call her.”

“Nah, fuck that shit; I read way too much Reddit to do that.”

I was hunched beside Ricky in an upright fetal position dreading my decision as we got closer to Kimberly’s home. She lived twenty minutes away from our school. We shared two classes and my girl betrayed no hint of dissatisfaction with me, but we weren’t a thing in public which brought all kinds of things to the fore. I’d known her since eighth grade, and she was always popular at the top of the student body.

We kind of found one another during our freshman year as a survival tactic across the diaspora of our inner city campus. Everything was so alien and new, horrifying to kids on the cusp of fifteen at the time. We’d only shared space in public settings for a month or two before she was absorbed into the popular sphere of students.

I accepted this because of our history and thought nothing of the fact that she naturally drifted away to new friends including upperclassmen who gravitated towards her in grooming fashion. It was this skewed ritual akin to the sorting hat from those Harry Potter movies with newbies being sorted into respective peer groups embodying various egregious stereotypes with an urban tinge to them.

Near the end of the year we shared an English class and subsequently a two person assignment that was integral to passing into the sophomore year. One thing led to another with us becoming “attached” in private. I understood the necessity for social secrecy with Kimberly making up for it in heated interludes whenever possible.

“I don’t think you should go over there, man.”

“If you’re scared, just drop me off at the end of the block and I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

We were already turning onto her block which consisted of identical rows of craftsman style homes surrounded by lush, vertical hedges as tall as I. There was the idea that all of the homes were prefab back into the day serving many nuclear families before the great white flight in the mid-sixties. My pulse was racing and all I could think of, all I could see was Kimberly’s sleek features which a cousin once described as serpentine before my fist rewarded him with a fat lip.

“Jaleel, you need to calm down before you do something crazy.”

“No, I’m gonna do something crazy if I find somebody with my girl.” I reiterated.

When bursa escort bayan I thought of her appearance, most people tended to compare Kimberly facially to actress Skye P. Marshall and it was hard to argue because she heavily resembled the celebrity. She just about five seven in height with a slender yet shapely figure that was usually hidden in conservative clothing whenever her strict father was in the vicinity. I’d seen her completely nude on rare occasion during our time together and found that I loved her deceptively full, heart shaped butt besides her exotic features which were owed in part to West Indian grandparents.

“Hey pull over, we’re here.” I was sweaty, my muscles tight in the shoulders and underarms in dread anticipation as Ricky drew close to the sidewalk.

“JALEEL, WAIT!” I jumped out of the car before her could come to a full stop walking across my girlfriend’s lawn to her house which had an entrance on its side instead of the front like some of the homes on this block.

I paused at the edge of the tall hedges peering around them at the side of the house finding Kimberly’s older sister at the far end of the walk in the backyard lounging in a wooden lawn chair faced away from me. The thirty something slacker wasn’t allowed a house key for various reasons, so I was sure the side front door was unlocked.

“Hey man, you could’ve waited until I parked.”

I waved off Ricky before scurrying down the walk to the front door slipping inside. My heart was pounding as I closed my sweaty fists approaching her bedroom door at the back of a short corridor. It wasn’t eve fully closed as my trembling hand gave it a slight push.

Time froze, everything suddenly paused allowing me to take it all in exquisite detail. Her thin frame from the top of her head, to her subversively wide hips. Her reflective skin tone, a beautiful shade of hazelnut contrasted with the thin underwire, demi cup bra covering her modest, pert breasts.

Kimberly had this teardrop shaped butt with a deep gluteal cleft that she referred to as “A Shaped.” This resulted in her cheeks parting wider than you would think whenever she was on all fours taking it from behind. Now I was standing in the doorway of her room watching something that looked damn near like a beer can parting that exceptionally deep gluteal cleft.

To my horror, it almost looked like Kimberly was sitting on a fence post. A giant pair of hair covered balls were slapping up into her snatch with enough momentum causing them to swing upward into her cheeks.

She was riding this motherfucker, some huge guy packed with muscle and sinew in his powerful athletic legs spread apart to give him leverage impaling her cheating cunt with no fucks to give. His large mitt like hands had custody of her thin forearms for leverage as she frenetically bounced on his cock becoming this vibrating blur of motion.

Kimberly’s head was pointed upward, chin raised towards the ceiling of her cluttered bedroom. I could see her narrow eyes, wide pools of white with a dilated pupil at their center. Both of them were screaming in ecstasy, perfect synchronicity as time resumed instantly with no warning.

“WHAT-THE-ACTUAL-FUCK?!!” I heard myself scream at the top of my lungs as the room became eerily quiet.

The instant was weird and surreal as I found myself looking directly at the face of Kimberly Bivens, in extreme closeup. It was all I could see for the next few seconds as she stared back stoically before reality set in raising her meticulously shaped eyebrows over those now serpentine eyes over her thin nose and full lips coated in her favorite burgundy lipstick.

It looked like she was about to ugly cry in that moment of frozen time, but I realized she was grimacing at me. Her teeth gnashed together as she dismounted turning away from me to the immediate wall of her bedroom. She frantically snatched up what looked like a flimsy white shirt covering her nudity in the front, but her bare ass was facing me.

“FUCK IS THIS THIS SHIT?!!” I yelled again automatically getting another unwanted visual as the guy’s enormous donk was uncovered, pointed at the ceiling catching the afternoon light filtering in from her venetian blind covered windows. I would never be able to forget the sight off his glistening dong.

“GET OUTTA HERE JALEEL, I’LL CALL YOU LATER!!” She screamed unable to face me, content to give me a view of her perfect ass. My eyes shifted over to the guy laying there flat on his back adding to my immediate horror.

Jay Stello.

Jay Stello, literally the most popular guy in school.

Jay Stello, half black, half Italian, the best looking guy on campus always surrounded by groups of fawning teenage girls with wet panties.

Jay Stello, star football player known city wide after bringing three championships to our little, ghetto school over supposedly better funded athletic programs in more privileged areas. This fucker with guaranteed football scholarships, sports endorsements escort bursa waiting for him to become eligible age wise.

Jay Stello is fucking my girl.

“Hey man, do you mind?” This motherfucker Jay Stello looked like younger Rick Fox with an Al B. Sure hairdo. This motherfucking Jay Stello built like fucking Dwayne Johnson.

His eighteen years of age had been questioned one time before a championship game by the coach of the opposing team necessitating his school identification and driver’s permit be presented before the game could start. Jay destroyed them afterwards and openly gloated while being interviewed by a visibly interested blonde news anchor. I remember the local station putting out a public disclaimer and apology for the hot and bothered reporter. She was temporarily suspended from the air too.

“Hey man, do you mind?” Jay asked again, sitting up this time.

“Uh-uhm, I…” I opened my mouth, but nothing would come out. My body rebelled shutting down imprisoning my mind inside. My mouth hung open as Jay looked over at Kimberly getting up off the bed.

This motherfucker, Jay Stello was six foot four inches of packed muscle who obviously didn’t care about his own nudity and huge, engorged penis pointing in my direction as he draped an arm about my girlfriend’s shoulder half turning her to face me. Kim sort of vertically straddled his side unwilling to look at me until he nudged her.

“Hey, you know this nigga?” They exchanged glances for a few seconds.

“He’s like, my friend.” She mumbled.

“Hey bro, sex education class is over now, so you needs to be getting all the fucking way up outta here before I gets to putting my foot up in your ass.” He was still serenely calm even it was OBVIOUS I was Kim’s boyfriend.

“Uhm, well…uh.” I was trying to move, do anything but my body decided to show me the idiotic folly of my initial plan to engage in senseless violence. Jay and Kimberly just stared at my traumatized features.

“HEY JALEEL, SAVE ME A PIECE OF THAT NIGGA; I’M GONNA BEAT HIS ASS, TOO!!” Ricky appeared at the peripheral of Kim’s bedroom door accidentally getting the visual as Kim ducked behind Jay hiding her nudity. He was similarly affected by the sight of Jay’s nudity. Both of them stared back, incredulously.

“…YEAH UHM, WE GOTTA KICK THAT NIGGA ASS OUTSIDE MESSING WITH MY CAR!!” Ricky deftly called an audible as I quickly grabbed him in a no look headlock.

Both of us turned slowly walking down the corridor like we’d been glued together finding her older sister in the open kitchen. It was like walking through molasses as Kim’s bedroom door shut loudly behind us hard enough for the sound to echo. The thirty something was standing there staring at two intruders in her home with no reaction whatsoever.

“Want some stuff puffs; they’re fresh out the oven.”

Kimberly’s older sister flamed out in university returning home as a shut-in after a toxic affair with one of her professors. In hindsight it was tragic seeing her standing there wearing an apron and oven mitt, holding a tray of loaded croissants.

“Oh hey, thank you so much.” Ricky’s my best friend, but he’s a greedy fucker who took time to drag me over to get one of the treats. I couldn’t really be mad as Kim’s sister handed him one in a napkin.

Five minutes later we were zooming down the block as I stared blankly out at the blurred scenery. He was well over the speed limit on a residential street driving like we were being chased by police. Me, I was just numb to everything. The theatre of my mind’s eye replaying the salacious scene on a continual loop. Ricky to his credit, tried to take my mind off things by turning on his radio. The musical strains of “All The Things Your Man Won’t Do” by this artist named Joe flowed from the speakers right in front of my face.

“No, change that.” I managed to say.

“Oh, sorry Jaleel.” Ricky reached over switching the channel as loud static filled the car before “If I Ever Fall In Love Again” by this old group called Shai, blasted throughout Ricky’s Hatchback Brigade and the surrounding streets.

“No Ricky no, change it.” I bit into my bottom lip as he switched it again, this time allowing “The Rain” by Oran Juice Jones to continue the karmic trolling being visited upon me by the heavens.

“GOD DAMMIT RICKY, WHAT THE FUCK MAN?!!” I screamed as he hit the scan button, barely getting fully back behind the wheel.

He managed to swerve out of incoming traffic having drifted lanes. I sat up looking through the back window of his hatchback. Both of us wiped our brows as Biz Markie’s “Just A Friend” serenaded us the rest of the way to my home.

“Hey man, you gonna be okay?” He asked earnestly.

“I don’t know.” It was the most honest answer I could manage.

Honestly, I was pretty sure Ricky was happy to drop me on the front lawn in front of my house managing a pat on the shoulder before gunning off into the dusk.

I stood there watching even after he was gone now faced with encroaching reality. I’d walked right into a textbook example of urban Darwinism. Kimberly’s narrow features and the gradually indifferent expression haunted me as I stood there on my front lawn.

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