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Thanks for all your previous comments. Again, this story's characters are all 18+
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Part I
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I found my love the day I punched Joey Josephson in the mouth. Joey made the unfortunate mistake of coming up to my locker between periods and making fun of my brother who we had buried just last week. He knew he crossed the line and he knew he had it coming. The punch landed on his left jaw and scraped across his face. Joey fell to the ground and put his hand to his lips then drew his hands up to see the blood on them. He gave me this stupid look then walked into the men's bathroom. I grabbed my calculus book and headed off to my next class before the bell rang, better not get in trouble by being late to class.
I took my seat next to James and Kelly, two of my best friends. We began swapping stories of the past weekend. James was in his usual rant over the horrible parking availability for students, and by the time he got to the part where he stands up and proclaims he will start a hunger strike and a sit-in in the teacher's lot, the bell rang. Mr. Gordon quieted the class. As the lecture began, I wondered how hard I had hit Joey. He was in my math class as well, but hadn't shown up yet. I wondered how long it takes to go the bathroom and clean oneself up and then grab books to get to class. There wasn't that much blood. I knew I hit him hard but to be late twenty minutes now?
Thirty minutes in, Mrs. Jacobs, the Principal's secretary, interrupted the class and said Principal Lehey needed to speak with me. Mr. Gordon excused me and I walked with Mrs. Jacobs out of the room. I now knew why Joey hadn't shown up to class. We had a Zero Tolerance policy and I knew I'd surely be expelled. I remained silent in my walk with Mrs. Jacobs, a sweet elderly woman who I'd normally chat with but was now fearing my impending doom.
I walked into Principal Lehey's office and sat down. Ms. Lehey did not have the appearance one would expect from an authority figure. She was short and very sexy, working her way up the ladder fast as she couldn't have been older than late 30s. I was not fooled by the soft exterior, though, as from what I've heard from other students who've had to sit before her, she could've been the warden of a maximum-security prison.
As I sat there trying to prepare myself for a punishment of lethal injection, she began to say I would not be punished. I was well liked in the school, had no previous disciplinary problems, high grades, and considering I had just lost my brother, she felt instead I would need counseling. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday during ninth period, starting today, I would go to a counselor brought in specially by the school.
I left the principal's office feeling really good. No death sentence, just therapy. No sweat. I headed off to lunch trying to decide which was the better outcome of the situation, missing ninth period Art three times a week or knowing that Joey will be hurt again tomorrow when he hears I hadn't been tossed out of school. Perhaps the principal thought as I did, he deserved to be punched just for being named Joey Josephson.
I met up with James and Kelly for pizza and quickly told them my story before James could begin his "Why can't they serve us real food instead of the food they couldn't even give away at the homeless shelter" speech. They were very supportive to my situation, but Kelly was worried about the counseling.
"What if they think you really have anger issues and hold you back?" asked Kelly.
"Or institutionalize you?" James added.
"Those strap jackets always looked so comfortable, I might enjoy it," I responded.
In truth, I was nervous, somewhat interested in what this therapy would be all about. Ninth period I headed off to the room number Ms. Lehey had given me. I knocked on one of the small administration offices that hadn't been used in a couple of years since a college advisor retired. I walked into the room. As it hadn't been used, it seemed very dull inside. It looked like it obviously had been quickly turned into a therapy room. There was a couch along the back wall. On the left side of the room was an empty shelving unit and in the middle of the room were a card table and two chairs. The lighting was dull, made worse by the fact that there was only one small window a foot below the ceiling, making it impossible for me to see anything outside.
I took a seat on the couch and looked at my watch. When was this counselor going to get here? As soon as I asked, in walked a gorgeous woman. She was breathing heavily and her brown hair was a mess. She was probably running down the hall to make her appointment on time, probably having been called on with such short notice. With each deep breath, her breasts bounced in a hypnotic motion that was very visible against her white disheveled shirt. I was instantly aroused.
"Are you Jeff?"
"Yes"
"I'm Dr. Collins," she walked over to me on the couch in her high heels and offered me her hand to shake.
She was probably expecting me to stand, but I was in no position to as my imagination had gotten the best of me as I followed the path her dark pantyhose led from her pumps until they disappeared past her skirt. I reached up from the edge of the couch and offered her my hand. Her touch, her skin was very soft. With me leaning over in this position it wouldn't have been too hard to brush my cheek against her thigh to see if the rest of her felt just as soft.
"You can call me Brenda, whichever makes you more comfortable," she added. She pulled over a chair and sat down. "I'm hear to listen, not to judge."
She then fell silent and looked at me sitting in the couch. Brenda then looked down into her folder, perhaps my permanent records. She then looked up at me. It seemed like she was going to say something but then didn't. She's here to listen, is she also allowed to speak? Why was she just sitting there in the chair at the edge of the couch not saying anything? Was I supposed to now lay down on the couch, stare at the wall and start revealing my inner thoughts? The silence was very awkward. The glances between us were only sporadically interrupted as she looked down into her folder and gave funny smirks. What was so funny about my school history?
With so many questions I decided to make the best of the situation. I took advantage of the silence to observe this beautiful person before me. With our silent staring contests, I noticed her gorgeous green eyes. My eyes wandered between her eyes and her lips, that looked so soft and moist, so kissable and yet these lips weren't being used. She remained silent through the whole session. Finally, the silence was broken by the school bell, signaling the end of the day.