Insanity Stains Red

two

The sound of his zipper being undone was the only other warning for what came next; in one swift movement he released my hair and lifted me onto the desk - sending much more clutter cascading to the floor – driving himself inside me with a satisfied grunt. There was nothing romantic about fucking, and I was glad that he didn’t try to make it so. Mr Jenkins pounded into me fast and hard, taking what he wanted without care for what I thought. ‘A little bit on the average side though, isn’t he?’ I coughed to cover the involuntary snigger. Those voices had the worst timing with these thoughts, but I couldn’t deny that they spoke the truth. Mr Jenkins wasn’t small, by any means, but he was nothing impressive; just average. ‘And we’ve fucked enough people to be an expert on that opinion.’

I had to admit, knowing that we could be caught at any given moment added to the thrill of it. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t enjoying myself; and dangerous situations such as these always gave me a bit of a high. I liked the risk, and I liked indulging in things that were forbidden, it made them all the more sweeter for it. Mr Jenkins stopped glancing at the door after a few minutes, concentrating on getting the job done. I could tell he was close by his laboured breathing. With a wiggle of my hips, I encouraged him that finale bit; he thrust into me one last time and stilled with his release, his body trembling slightly with effort. I guess he was older than I’d first guessed; It took a lot more out of him than it should have.

Mr Jenkins pulled out of me and sank wearily into his chair, not bothering to fix himself up. He studied me with a stormy gaze, though much of his anger seemed to have dissipated with the session of rowdy fucking. “You have your passing grade, Miss Moore. I trust you to hold up your end of the bargain and keep this as our secret. I know you are well aware of the consequences to both of us, if what we just did was discovered.” He gazed at me steadily, and I could already see the self-disgust and regret building within him. But the deal had been struck, which meant my part was done – I needed to leave before he started doubting himself and started apologizing. It was always so tiring when people had an attack of conscience. Sex was just sext; I never understood why everyone had to make such a big deal out of it.

“Until tomorrow, Mr Jenkins” I Stood and straightened my skirt once more – wouldn’t want to be flashing my derriere to unsuspecting passers-by. My underwear lay on the floor in tatters. There was definitely no saving them. I cast a pointed look at them on my way to the door but made no move to pick them up. Who knows, maybe Mr Jenkins would like to keep them as a souvenir of our time together; I bit my lip at the thought. Either way, they were his problem to deal with. I had more important places to be – the library for starters. I had promised Rose I’d get her another book to read, and if I didn’t hurry, I’d miss the late bus and be forced to walk all the way home.

After an advent like what had just come to pass, one would expect people to look at them differently, as if they knew what had just transpired, even if they said nothing aloud. But I got no such looks as I strolled between the warm –brick buildings towards the back of the school. Of course, no one actually knew what I’d been up to, and it wouldn’t have bothered me all that much if they had – I wasn’t shy – but it was a strange feeling none-the-less. I was curious to see how Mr Jenkins reacted to me tomorrow, though. Everyone always behaved differently, and it was hard sometimes to tell how people would react. ‘Coach didn’t seem to have a problem with fucking us, when we approached him…’ That’s because he’s an arrogant man who thinks females are below him. He’s always happy to break the rules for a quickie in the locker room. Actually, I don’t think I’m the only student he’s fucking, either.

‘Good point. He’d fit in well with father’s lot – egotistical maniacs, the lot of them. We’ll be seeing Coach tomorrow too. Ah, a girl’s work is never done… It was strange though, how Mr Jenkins reacted to us.’ I’d been contemplating that myself actually – I’d started out the confident one in that exchange, and ended up lost; not something that happened to me often. It was almost like something had occurred to him that would change his opinion of the dirty deed. I hoped I had not overlooked a crucial fact. Shrugging, I kicked a stone off the path in front of me, watching it bounce away into the grass. I would find out if it came about; no use worrying about things that hadn’t occurred yet.

The library was an old building. Over time, the school had had renovations on many of their classrooms and demountables – not to mention a completely new gym had been built, leaving the original to be turned into a sort of dance studio/drama room. But the library had remained the same dusty-old building it had always been, tucked right up the back corner behind one of the many toilet blocks. I guess that said something for where the school’s priorities were laid. However, the library was still perfection if viewed by someone with a love of books; or so I’d been told. I knew that Rose would have loved it here, if she were allowed out of that cage of a room they kept her in. Instead, she had to live vicariously through me and the adventures I relayed to her, as well as the books I borrowed out for her to read – never touching them myself.

Our librarian’s name was Glenda. If she had a last name, I’d never heard it, and she never insisted on being called by anything other than her first. I guess she felt it made her seem friendlier or more ‘in touch with the students or something. I didn’t really care either way, but she’d gotten a little frustrated with me on numerous occasions because I tried to call her ma’am – It seemed I had a talent for frustrating authority figures. That sure explained a lot, but I just didn’t feel comfortable calling someone that much older than me by their first name; years of ingrained habits, I suppose.

I found her sitting at the reception desk, which was a pretty strange place to find her, despite the general expectations of such things. Glenda was more one to walk the stacks non-stop, and on some rare occasions could be found reading in her own little ‘book-nook’ as she referred to it. She looked up as I entered, the gentle huff of the air conditioning causing my hair to flutter briefly in the breeze.

“Hello, young Evelyn” Of course she would know my name. For an old woman, she certainly had a memory like an elephant. I had a feeling she could tell me the exact location of any book I asked her for – off the top of her head, down to the shelf number and books either side of it. “Have you finished with that one then; ready for another?” She held her hand out for the book I held clutched to my chest. It was a copy of Treasure Planet, a story that Rose had claimed was one of her favourites.

I handed it over with a nod. “Well, I’m sure by now you know where the classics are kept, seeing as you read enough of them.” She said this with a tone of pride, as if my ability to read a lot was a personal accomplishment of hers; not that I’d actually read any of the books here, but she didn’t need to know that. “I assume that’s what you’re after?” she continued, and at my nod, waved me off to wander upstairs. Rose loved the classics, she felt things were simpler in them, as opposed to the more modern stories, that had too many twists and turns – they just didn’t have the same ‘magic’ in them, apparently. Not that I’d know the difference, I had no interest in reading stories. Languages were more my thing; thankfully my father had been happy for me to continue in that area, because he felt it would come in handy in communicating with our foreign brothers.