Weeping Willow (Spanking Story)

Chapter 10, Part 1: Owen's POV

"Wow, is she always like that?" Leah's voice wasn't accusing or harsh, but bordered on the edge of morbid curiosity. I had talked little of Penny in the time I knew Leah. Firstly, Penny and I weren't on the best of terms; we weren't fighting, per se, but an odd sort of silence had enveloped us, separated us, and it was as if neither of us was willing to break it. Secondly, it just felt awkward to talk about my sister with another girl—felt a bit like gossiping, even if it was just the basic stuff.

"No," I answered carefully. I put a hand on Leah's waist as we trekked down the hill toward the soccer field. "She's just a bit off lately."

"What do you mean by 'off'?" Leah asked. She was coyly avoiding eye contact as I turned to look at her. I had to find a way to change the subject, and fast.

"Just girl stuff. Don't imagine I'd know much about that, would I?" I chuckled, starting to remove the hand on her waist, as we'd reached the end of the hill. I could hear the faint echoes of students milling about the pitch, the steady pitter-patter of joggers on the track. The faint scent of sweat mingled with the dewy aroma of the freshly watered grass. It was welcoming in a raw sense of physicality. It made we want to give into my most basic instincts.

And so, I did. In a socially appropriate way, of course.

I grabbed Leah's hand in mine as she went to brush back a stray bang, not missing the slight gasp that escaped, the way her hand clenched mine in surprise.

All too soon, we reached the building, where I'd be sequestered for the rest of the day. I was thankful that it was Friday, and that a free weekend loomed ahead.

"I guess I'll see you later, huh?" Leah said nonchalantly, though her deject expression spoke volumes. I found myself searching for ways to stall, to bide time. However, I knew I only had moments to go inside before I angered Cooper, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.

"I guess," I muttered, kicking my trainers into the ground sullenly. I really shouldn't have allowed myself to look so disappointed at the prospect of her leaving. I was supposed to be the cool, unassuming type, wasn't I?

There was just something about her.

A breeze caught her honey brown locks, separating the curls a bit, and lifting the ends into the air. As I reached to move a piece away from her cheek, her gaze met mine, brighter than the green of the turf beneath our feet.

Suddenly, I was struck with a fleeting whim, and the words were out of my mouth before I could shove them down my esophagus.

"Will you go out with me this weekend?" I gulped, not even having the gall to look her in the eyes.

If she had been expecting that question, Leah sure did a good job of hiding it. All was frozen for a moment, as we stared into each other's eyes, breathing each other's air, and feeling the beating of each other's hearts.

Okay, that was cheesy. I'm not trying to be Shakespeare, here. What I'm saying is I had just asked this really hot girl out on a date like a total dope and it looked like she was actually considering the proposal.

I tried to lean against the brick wall, like I could sit here waiting all day for her answer and not care one way or another. I lifted a trainer to rest casually against the wall, like those models on the cover of Rolling Stones wearing leather jackets and stormy expressions.

Only, I hadn't accounted for the slickness of the grass, and ended up in a pile of tangled limbs on the ground. Endless drills spent on the tips of my toes and dribbling a ball between my feet like a newborn baby, and I still had the grace of a three-legged tiger.

Leah laughed outright then, clutching her stomach. The only question was, was she laughing at me or with me?

"Are you like," she gasps, "this all the time?" Her eyes are tiny crescents, and I can imagine her sixty years from now with permanent laugh lines. "I swear, I'll never be bored around you, Owen."

I fought the blush, but felt its hot burn on my cheeks, anyway. She didn't sound outright disgusted, and I clung to the glimmer of hope there.

"You got that right," I agreed around a toothy grin, pushing myself up to stand. We were definitely past time now, and I prayed that Cooper was either distracted or in an extremely good mood.

Leah smirked, nibbling on a purple nail. "You know, if you weren't so damn cute, I don't think I'd even talk to you, dork."

I felt like I should have been offended, but she'd just called me cute. In guy world, I'd just gone leaps and bounds. I could practically see a runway paved from me to Leah, a ground controller waving bright wands for the Sexy plane landing.

Make way, Willow Academy. Owen Kherrington is a the most eligible bachelor no more.

I dove in for another kiss then, because, hey, being called cute can give a man the confidence he needs.

"So, Saturday, at eight?" I asked, because that's what guys do in movies. Girls liked that, right? That way they didn't have to worry and think about it too much.

Wow, and Penny said I needed practice with girls. Let's see her score a date like this one.

On second thought, never mind. I didn't want to imagine Penny scoring a date with anyone, not when all that went to this school were assholes (except me, of course). No, when she was thirty and beginning to have back problems, then she could find a man. Preferably a mousy, bald man whose was an accountant or a pharmacy technician or something equally repulsive.

"Yeah, that sounds great," Leah spoke with subtle ease. I could hear the underlying excitement in her voice. Nice to know I wasn't the only one playing "hard to get".

She kissed my cheek again, her honey brown curls clouding my vision with an aroma of girl and flowers and something tropical. "You better take me someplace nice, Kherrington."

I was too dumbfounded to move for the next few moments as I watched her walk away.

I turned to go into the building, and I was shocked out of my reverie when I ran smack into a hard chest, nearly falling back onto the ground. A pair of arms steadied me, clad in the uniform red soccer jacket.

"Hey, Coop," I greeted weakly, staring up into his face. I hated that I still only came up to his shoulder. His expression was hard to read; it wasn't angry, but it also wasn't neutral. His eyes gleamed with a knowledge I wasn't fortunate to have.