We had been friends for as long as I can remember. No, "friends" didn't quite describe what the three of us were. The word didn't suggest our competitiveness. Whatever we were was hard to name. It lay silently beneath everything we did, from casual conversation, to sports, to hanging out. It peeked its head out in little things. I'd make a cocky remark after owning John on the basketball court. Alan would try to make me look stupid in front of a group of cute girls. It was innocent then, it was different now. Like a lick of fire, it was harmless and warm when it was small, but it became dangerous and ravenous when it grew.
It was early July, between our last year of high school and our first year of college, that the flames began to grow out of control. And It all started with such a tame thing.
***
My telephone rang—a call from John.
"Hey, what's up, douchebag?" I answered.
"Shut up dumbass," he responded. "Still cranky because I schooled you in baseball this morning?"
Usually, baseball was a competition between two opposing teams, but when it came to me and John, things were a little different. We didn't have any formal agreement, but the person who scored the most for the team got bragging rights until the next match. Earlier that morning, John and I carried our school's summer team to a stunning victory... and John wouldn't shut up about it. He exploded like a firework when it ended, grinning like a maniac and assuring his teammates that "it was nothing."
But as the two of us parted ways with the rest of the group, he went on and on about how amazing he was. I was more amazed that I hadn't socked him in his jaw. The sun was beating down, so hot my clothes were sticking to my skin. And my car was busted, so there was nothing to do but to trek through that heat like a nomad in the desert. Maybe that would have been okay if John wasn't talking so much crap. It was setting my nerves on edge, but I managed to distract myself by taking long, exaggerated drinks from my water bottle.
In any case, "schooled" was an overstatement. He'd only gotten in one more run than I had, and I told him so.
"Yeah, but you're forgetting the 8th inning, you little shit. Remember? Who was it that hit that stellar homerun, with bases loaded? I basically scored 4 runs for that."
"Whatever..." I said, only half listening.
"Anyway, Theo, I didn't call you to talk about how wonderful I am."
I roll my eyes. "That would have been a conversation full of lies anyway, unless, maybe, they redefined 'wonderful' to mean a tool who still wets himself in the middle of the night."
That was enough to get him riled up. I could tell he was flustered on the other line. "You bitch! You and your stupid pranks don't count for shit!" He clears his throat. "Anyway, as much as you're pissing me off, there's a bigger bitch that needs to be put in his place."
He was obviously talking about the third member of our group, Alan. I had to admit, he was grating my nerves as well. Alan recently decided that his last goal before he went off to school was to "fuck every slut in Maple County." And damn me and John both if he wasn't doing just that. He kept rubbing it in our faces too. But humility was a trait that the three of us lacked. If one of us was doing something well, we had to tell someone; it was preferable to do it to the other two in our group just because it bothered us so much. It sucked to be the one bragged to and not the one bragging, but Alan was probably the worst of us. He had decided to take his bragging to the next level.
Five minutes before my phone call with John, I called Alan and asked if he wanted to hang out.
"Naw, dude. I'm fucking." He said. I could hear it. The bed creaking, and unreserved squealing from some girl whose voice I faintly recognized. Alan himself was out of breath but he managed to say, "listen, maybe you should try getting laid. Take it from someone who's done it a thousand times: it's awesome. Guess you'll just have to settle for your butt-buddy John."
He didn't say anything after that, so I assumed he was going to hang up. But he didn't, and he probably did it on purpose. I continued to hear the sound of wild sex on the other line and Alan was being overly vocal, probably trying to push my buttons.
"Damn bitch, that pussy is so tight! Better than any of your friends... FUCK yeah."
It pissed me off that that actually did push my buttons. Even worse was that I was turned on. I could feel my boner pushing up against my shorts. I hung up the phone. Alan had been doing that for a month now; every time the three of us went out to do something, he would find some girl to take home with him and he would rub it in our faces. To him, this put him ahead of both me and John, and he never ceased to let us know.
So I wasn't really surprised that John was calling me to say we needed to put him in his place, because we did.
"What's your plan?" I asked. John wasn't known for being very smart, his plan was probably just to fuck more girls than Alan.
"Don't sweat the details, Theodore. I've got it all worked out. You just make sure you're at my house at 7 tonight okay?"
At his house? Maybe I gave him too much credit. I was now thinking that John's plan was to whoop Alan at Madden or something.
Regardless, I had nothing better to do. I recently broke up with my girlfriend Ashleen and, although I didn't want to admit it, I was still hurting. She was the type of girl I wanted to spend all my time with. For a while, I made sure to do just that; I guess I scared her off. Maybe if I was over her I'd be glad to fuck around like Alan was, but I just wasn't ready for that. I was glad to do whatever John had planned; maybe owning Alan at Madden 11 was just what the doctor ordered.
We got off the phone with our usual jibes and snips and I threw myself on my bed. The clock on my nightstand read 5:10 PM. I still had two hours before I had to be at John's and I had nothing to do until then. I heard the sound of Alan fucking like a whisper against my ear. Shit. I was still turned on from that conversation. That girl really did squeal like a slut...
I moved my hand down to the fabric over my bulge. God, I was horny. I hadn't touched myself in ages. I was so used to getting it regularly that I hadn't needed to jack off. And after Ashleen and I broke up, it was like I forgot how. I was ready now though, I could feel the heat radiating from my body and how every part of me was begging for release.
I pulled my shirt up over my body and threw it to the side of my bed. I touched my body in all the places I liked my girlfriend to touch. First I rubbed my neck, and worked my way down to my chest, felt the prickles of light blonde hair there until I found my hard nipples. Tweaking them sent an electric shock through my body, all the way down to my already raging hard-on.
