Deals With The Devil's Spawn

Midget Porn

“I don't know why you're arguing with me about this, we've already settled this,” a deep masculine voice floated through the cracks in the bleachers and I instinctively began looking for the nearest exit strategy. I knew the owner of that voice and after the last few days successfully embarrassing myself in front of him, I was actively trying to avoid him. But the guy was everywhere.

“Oh right, sure, when you think having a threesome is perfectly acceptable, I'm supposed to go along with it, but I find midget porn hot and everyone loses their mind,” another male voice answered and I suppressed the urge to snort, not wanting to give away my hiding spot behind the bleachers.

“What exactly is wrong with having a threesome?” Brayden asked. I had no idea who he was talking to and there was no way for me to tell, the bleachers blocking my view. I knew it wasn't his brother, because this voice was slightly higher than Caden's.

“Uh, I don't know, Brady, how about the fact that you're fucking another guy?” the other guy answered in a mocking tone and I rolled my eyes. He did know that there were threesomes with two girls and a guy, as well, right?

“You're an idiot.”

“Why?”

I heard Brayden sigh. “Because threesomes can be between two girls and a guy, you limp dick.”

“Oh...right.” I fought the urge to laugh, the poor guy seemed almost shocked at this new information. And as crude as their conversation was, I wasn't surprised; I'd heard many others like it. I spent most of my free time hiding behind the bleachers, either reading a book or listening to music until my next class, and a lot of the hockey players walked through the field to either get to the ice rink on the other side of the campus or wood shop class at the end of the football field. It was the quietest place when there wasn't a game going on or during classes, so most days I was able to hear their conversations clearly as they walked past. It was one of my favorite parts of my day.

Making friends had never been easy for me, from a young age, as hard as I tried, it was always a struggle. As I grew up in a town with people ready to be judge, jurors and executioners at the slightest out of line incident, it was nearly impossible when the news of my father's wrong doings broke. And even though my mother and I had been victims as much as the town, we'd quickly been shunned and written off as bad seeds. Which is one of the reasons I couldn't even begin to understand why one of the most beloved members of this twisted tight-knit community wanted anything to do with me, let alone be his pretend girlfriend.

People didn't really talk to me, going for the easier way out by choosing to ignore the fact that I existed. I had gotten used to it. I'd stopped trying to make friends at a young age, choosing to actually enjoy the fact that I was left alone most of the time. When I'd chosen to volunteer at the hospital, I'd done it solely to make my college applications stand out. I knew my grades weren't going to be enough, since I'd never been particularly good at school. But I'd never actually expected to make a few friends. They weren't the type of friends that invited me over for sleepovers or to tag along to a party, but they didn't make my life difficult at the hospital, and that's all I could ask for.

“Protein bar?” I heard a voice ask from a few feet away, a scream leaving my lips, my book flying out of my hands and landing a few steps away from a pair of black converse. I glanced up and growled.

“You have got to stop doing that,” I grumbled, moving onto my knees to retrieve my book.

“Hey, at least this time you weren't holding hot coffee,” he smirked and I groaned, my face heating up at the memory.

“You know most people stay away from me after hot coffee gets involved,” I mumbled, not meeting his eyes. “I mean, they learn pretty quickly that I'm a string of bad luck. If they had the strength to deal with me for more than a few minutes, I'm pretty sure that I would have a line of people waiting to file a lawsuit for emotional and physical scars...Not that I'm trying to give you an idea. Please don't sue me! I can't afford a lawyer and knowing my luck I'd probably get one that would somehow manage to not only lose the case but also get me locked up with my psychopath of a father.”