Usual Disclaimer Time: Even though this story almost entirely takes place in a high school setting, all the characters in this story are 18 years old or older, and since we're living in the wide wonderful world of porno-land here, where clichés roam free and things might get a little unrealistic from time to time, please remember it's all in good fun, I swear.
Author's Note: Thank you all for your patience; I know it's been a long time on this chapter due to a variety of real world factors and issues beyond my control, so I hope it doesn't disappoint. Believe it or not, it's been the awesome feedback you've all given that's kept this going. If you're enjoying this, please, please, please drop some stars, reviews or shoot me some feedback. Though I may not always respond, I do love hearing from all of you and seeing that you're enjoying the series. It keeps me going and motivates me to continue writing more. You've all been wonderful and I can't thank you enough for all of your kind words and encouragement!
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Previously, on Senior Year Memories: Preparations for Regan Hills High School's annual Halloween Scream carnival have sent nerdy 18-year-old Ryan Collins to call on a number of unlikely allies for assistance in putting together a haunted house, even though the event itself is under threat of a protest by some of the school's more religious students. At the behest of Puma Press editor Nadia Barclay, Ryan was sent to seduce former cheerleader and full-time slutty hipster, Rose Ferris. However, the tables were turned when Rose revealed she'd already agreed to help, and just wanted to fuck Ryan. Though Ryan was more than happy to fuck Rose in all of her holes, he also found he enjoyed talking to her, as she helped him put into perspective some of the internal conflicts he's had after fucking his best friend, Tori.
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It was a week until the Halloween Scream, and things were finally starting to come together. Hours upon hours of after school time, weekends and even lunches, and the Puma Press finally had the basics of a haunted house put together in Regan Hills High School's abandoned Bungalow 237. It didn't look like an asylum taken over by a gang of cannibalistic clowns just yet, but we were confident that we'd get there in time. Between Josie's and my planning and Rose's insane building skills, what once was a bungalow full of junk was now a darkened chamber with a snaking zig-zag of walls that would guide people exactly where we wanted them for maximum effect jump scares. I didn't know where Rose got all of her supplies to put those walls up that fast, and truthfully I didn't want to know.
Once she was set on a task, she was gonna pull it off come hell or high water.
Between her, Josie and me (and Nadia taking credit for putting the three of us together), we made a good team, and I was pretty certain we'd be able to put together a damn good set. Whether we'd make more money than the drama club's "Vampire Castle," I couldn't say, but based on sets alone I thought we had a good chance.
Of course, a good haunted house needed more than just sets; we needed good people, and we had them in spades. Mallory's cosplaying skills and enthusiasm ensured that we'd have the best looking evil clowns as evil clowns went, while Kaitlyn and Brooke's efforts to get a handful of cheerleaders to dress as sexy clowns to entice people to our house (while the rest of us from the Puma Press participating in the event played considerably less sexy clowns within) had gained four more to our cause.
It was amazing seeing the project, which had once seemed an insurmountable challenge, come together. Almost as amazing as seeing so many people from so many different backgrounds coming together, though sex had a little something to do with that.
Okay, maybe a lot.
In the past two months, I'd had sex with seven people working on our haunted house for the Halloween Scream. Some of them I'd fucked before I'd become attached to the event, some after, some even because, and admittedly, it was a bit weird working around so many people I'd fucked on one project. They all knew, of course, and there were times I'd catch some of them giggling and talking and knew there wasn't shit I could do about it.
Thankfully, the haunted house was a maze, and mazes were meant to be lost in.
Occasionally, though, you could also be found in them.
I was working on a narrow alcove we'd hidden between a pair of "walls," narrow-looking enough that if you just glanced at them you'd think they were a normal wall, but angled in such a way that they created a good sized gap where a person could hide, bursting through a curtain painted to look exactly like the wall whenever they wanted to scare someone. It was an effect that wouldn't hold up to scrutiny under light, but in the darkness this house would be under, it'd be pretty damn scary.
Or I hoped it would be, anyway.
I was stapling up part of the curtain, cursing the wobbly stool I stood on, when I heard her voice.
"Need any help?"
I looked down to see my best friend, Tori McNeil, standing and looking up at me. She was dressed for manual labor today, wearing a tie-dyed tank top that barely held in her massive, D-cup tits, a tight pair of well-worn jeans that hugged her magnificent ass, and a bandanna that poorly attempted to restrain her wild mess of curly, shoulder-length red hair. Her skin, usually porcelain pale (save for her freckles) was flushed red and glistening with sweat from working in the stuffy bungalow. I probably wasn't any better off, but like in most aspects of life, she made being tired and sweaty look much better than I ever could.
"No, I'm fine," I said.
"Okay. Mind if I just stand around watching and waiting for you to fall?" Tori asked.
"Go nuts," I replied, looking down at her nervously, then trying to focus on my staple gun because it was better than trying to come up with something to say to fill the silence.
It'd been almost a month since Tori and I had had sex after Homecoming. Almost a month since I'd told her I loved her, and almost a month since she'd said she wanted to keep things uncomplicated. It was because she wanted to keep things uncomplicated that things felt decidedly complicated, and why the distance between us lately, whether it was by my choice or her choice or some mutual unspoken consent, felt particularly terrible.
"So, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately," Tori said.
"Oh?" I said, reaching higher to staple the curtain in place.
"About us," Tori said.
I didn't know if this is something that I wanted to talk about or something I wanted to avoid, so I just repeated, "Oh?"
She crossed her arms underneath her magnificent breasts, pushing them together in a way that let me know she wasn't wearing a bra. She said, "We ended things weirdly on Homecoming. I thought we were on the same page, but if we were on the same page, we wouldn't be hovering around each other in this holding pattern where we go through the motions of being friends without actually doing things as friends."
Well, that was one way to put it. "I'm sorry?"
"You've got nothing to be sorry about; I'm guilty too," she said.
