Willow Academy (Spanking Story)

Chapter 17, Part 1: Owen's POV

How many times could I say—really and truly—that I was at the top of the world? No regrets, no ill feelings, just endless ecstasy and constant contentedness? I was as close as I'd ever come to being able to make such a declaration.

If there were ever such a cut-out for the perfect high school life, I'd fit right in—no gaps, no cracks. Popularity had hit me as hard as it'd left me, trickling in from two sides: athletics and the Deal or No Deal. I was a man of two crowds, and perfectly happy with that. This probably sounds incredibly cheesy, but there's not much that a high schooler really has under his name; this newfound popularity was next to eternal glory for me. My social life had flipped-turned so much that I felt like some hormonal teenager girl—like my sister or something! Emotional roller coaster, anyone?

You know what, who in the hell cares? I'm doing great, and I'm never gonna be doing anything else!

~*~

"Kherrington!" I heard as I left Chem with Danny and the buds. Today's class had been particularly brutal; if I ever hear the word mole again, I swear I'll blow up into pieces even smaller than Avogadro's number!

I turned around, and Riley, looking more excited than a kid in an amusement park with an all-access-pass, bounded up to me.

"Dude, what's—" I started to ask, wondering what in the hell had got him so hyped up this time. He didn't let me finish, however, just dragged me to the corner of the hall and had me backed up against the wall like we were lovers or something.

"Fuck, man! Back up!" I growled, shoving uselessly at his shoulder. Soccer players aren't known for having great arm strength.

He ignored me, and instead raked his fingers through his hair so hard I was sure there'd be blood under his nails. Riley was often hyper, over-excited, even dramatic—usually about a deal. What can I say, the kid loved his money almost as much as he loved his drugs. However, this trembling ball of elation was so unrecognizable I had to do a double take and be sure that it was indeed still Riley standing in front of me. Or, bouncing, anyway.

"Riley, chill!" I exclaimed, shoving him with both hands this time. I wasn't gonna sit there pinned awkwardly all day waiting for him to calm his ass down.

My partner in crime seemed to gather his surroundings then, and backed away, grinning at me sheepishly. "Sorry, man," he muttered, scraping his nails through his poor scalp again. "It's just that—We have a—Dylan has a—Well, it's coming up really soon and—" he trailed off, beginning to bounce on his toes again.

I grabbed his shoulders and attempted to force his feet to remain flat on the floor; he looked like a freaking jackhammer or something! I leaned in towards his face, definitely too close for comfort, and tried to speak as calmly as I could.

"Riley. What. The fuck. Is up!?"

My friend let out a puff of air, raked his fingers through his hair one last time, and looked up at me with steely resolve.

"We've got a deal. At the dance. Peters wants half profit, but we're looking at at least quadruple digits here."

My heart stopped.

The dance. One of Willow Academy's biggest events. Everybody who was anybody went, and as much as this seems like some sort of Mean Girls quote, we were somebody. A deal at that dance held the key to our imminent success, and it wasn't something you even thought about declining. So, why was I?

Why didn't I share Riley's excitement? I should have been bouncing off the freaking walls right about now! He'd said we would be expecting quadruple digits. Quadruple. Thousands of dollars! I couldn't even wrap my head around it.