Page 55 of The PTA President
“Betty’s having moms apply, and I couldn’t stand by and watch. Is the dance over?” I shut down the shredder and leave behind a trash can full of pink paper that brings a small smile to my face.
“Yeah, the kids bailed when Betty made them turn off Lil Jon. Those kids have terrible taste, but I’d leave too if some mom on a power trip was telling me what to do.” She winks.
“We’d better get started so we’re not here all night,” I suggest, but she remains still, blocking the door.
Reaching behind her, she flicks off the main light, leaving only a soft glow coming from the hallway. “I think I'd rather have my way with you in the dark, give your dress more time to dry.”
When she walks closer to me, grabbing hold of my dress, all reason flies out the window, and all I see is her. “Is this dress the only thing wet right now?” she whispers seductively.
“You mean the ruined dress you're responsible for?” I’m glad some part of my consciousness is still there preventing me from sinking to my knees for her.
“I’d like to think I’m responsible for ruining more than your dress.” Her hand skates across my breasts, and my nipples harden, missing her touch. “I hope I’m responsible for ruining you for anyone else.”
“Nat, please. Stop,” I whisper, hoping I sound serious and that I didn’t actually just whimper as her fingers wrap around my body.
Catching me completely off guard, she rounds her hand behind me and slaps my ass, leaving a sting. “Fine. Go out there and clean up all that shit, while you talk yourself out of wanting me as much as I want you.”
“We’re done. Do you understand me? There’snothingleft. It’s long gone.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Princess. If we’re done, then don’t you dare look at me in that gym. Don’t think about what it’s like when my face is between your legs. Better yet, keep your focus on sweeping and not on the last time I had you all to myself, squirting all over my bed like a cheap whore.”
“You’re disgusting. I’m embarrassed I ever let you near my body.” I push away, hurrying away from her.
ChaptEr 40
Natalie
Well, fuck me. These so-called responsible teenagers made a bigger mess than Candace and I did, so we’re going to be here all night. Black and gold streamers litter the floor along with hundreds of deflated balloons. I’m guessing one jock dared another to suck all the helium out and go ask a girl out, real smooth guys. Someone mopped up all the punch while Candace and I were in the other room, so there’s one task I don’t have to deal with.
She finally joins me, barefoot and angry, with a heavy door slamming behind her. “Don’t even look at me, just do your job in a timely manner, and hopefully we can get out of here before sunrise,” she says through gritted teeth, grabbing some trash bags to pick up the streamers.
“Wow, homecoming queen, I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll just be over here, like the maid I was always meant to be.” I say lightly, stirring the already blackened pot.
“Better yet, no need for us to even talk. You clean up the food, and I’ll handle everything on the floor.” She’s shoving streamers into her bag like they’ve offended her.
“You got it, boss.” I salute. “Oh wait, you’re not the boss anymore. What do I call you now, Prez? Does the second in command have a name, or do I refer to you as Betty’s little bitch?”
All I get out of her is a muffled curse as she continues her assault, leaving me be. Grabbing my iPod I place it in the dock leftover from the parent in charge of music and scroll to the perfect song for us. A solo guitar plays loudly right as Puddle Of Mudd sings “She Hates Me.” Not able to contain my smile, I sing along while stuffing streamers into a trash bag.
“Nat, come on, grow up. Turn off the music and quit messing around.” She glares from the other side of the room. Joke’s on her, all it does is enable me to keep going. Never in a million years would I ever stop messing with her, especially now that we’re trapped in a school gym.
“My bad, I’ll find something from your decade. Whatdidyou guys listen to during the Great Depression?” A pop rock song serenades my stuck-up ex-girlfriend about being a rich girl, before she hurls another lecture at me.
Stomping her foot like a petulant five-year-old, she throws daggers at me, clearly pissed. “This is why your room looks the way it does. You’re not capable of doing one single task. Meanwhile, I’m over here almost done while you’re playing around.”
“I’ll have you know, madam, my room looks the way it does because I don’t care. I’d rather spend my time doing cool shit with you than waste my day making sure it’s up to The Plaza’s housekeeping standards.”
“Well, lucky for me, we won't be doing anycool shitanytime soon.” She gives a fake smile and moves on to the balloons.
“We could if you wanted to. We’ve got this place all to ourselves, and I know you’re just dying to strip off that sad excuse for a dress. In fact, I bet it’s all you’ve been able to picture since walking in here.” I watch her fluster with the balloons, trying to deflate the ones left behind.
“Once again, you’re so off base,” she mumbles.
“What base do you want me to get to? Tell me, Princess, did you wear panties tonight like a good girl?”
Her movements are jerky as she struggles with her task, all while pretending to ignore me. “Not happening.”
“What’s not happening?” I ask, slowly moving towards her, knowing full well she’ll never make the first move.
