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“Kali, you are late!” her mother shouted from downstairs. “You’re going to give the teachers a bad impression of you on the first day!”

I’m almost ready, MOM!” she shouted in exasperation. That was a lie. Kali had tried on every combination of pants, skirt, shorts, and tops in her wardrobe, but nothing seemed to rein in the double d-sized breasts and buttocks that had sprouted over the summer. Not even her bra could handle them, she frowned, her overflowing cups clearly visible through her t-shirt. But the t-shirt would have to do, she shook her head in defeat. She was out of time and outfit combinations. This would make a bad impression alright, she frowned. Just what she needed her first day of senior year.

As Kali feared, by the time she picked up her schedule and located her classroom, the teacher was already fifteen minutes into his lecture. Twisting the door handle with a shaky, sweaty palm, she braced herself for the onslaught of stares. Up to this point, she prided herself on flying below her classmate’s radar. It had saved her drama and time to focus on school and grades, the things she cared about the most. Hopefully, if she dashed to her seat quickly enough, everyone would shortly forget the incident, ignore her existence, and life would resume as normal.

Dashing to her seat, she could almost feel dozens of eyes boring into her back. By now, the only desk available was one located on the second to last row. Usually she preferred a place as close to the front as possible, but today, she was grateful for the privacy the back rows provided. Setting down her bag, she quickly opened her textbook and buried her face in its contents. Safe.

Or was she?

Daring to peak up from the text, she blanched to discover that she was still very much the center of attention. Many had turned 95 degree angles in their seats just to have a better look. Kali broke out in a cold sweat. What was it? Her tardiness? Her tight outfit? Her poorly fitted bra? All the above?!

Distracted by her classmate’s attention, Kali jumped when she felt the blunt end of an eraser poke her in the back. “Hey,” a male voice whispered behind her.

Turning, she discovered the eraser belonged to none other than Patrick Williams, star player of the varsity soccer team. Though they had been classmates for years, racking her brain, Kali could not remember ever speaking to him. “Hey,” she responded lamely.

“I’m Patrick. What’s your name?”

Kali’s jaw dropped in surprise. Evidently her efforts to blend in had succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. Her own classmates did not even recognize her. “I’m Kali,” she whispered, confident that her name would jog his memory.

“After school, want me to show you around? It looks like you were a little lost this morning.”

It had not. Kali blushed furiously, unsure how to respond to his offer. Guys rarely spoke to her, let alone wanted to spend time with her. Especially guys as popular as Patrick. Before she had time to think, she heard her lips utter, “sure.”

“Great,” he smiled, blinding her with his dazzlingly perfect white teeth. “See you after sixth period.”

Shit. Now look what she had done. It was probably only a matter of minutes before he realized she had been his classmate for four years. Then what would he think of her? Would he lose interest when he realized she was just quiet, old Kali? And most importantly of all, would he still want to hang out?

Between her afternoon engagement with Patrick and the constant stream of sideways glances from classmates, any effort to focus on classwork was futile. With a defeated sigh, Kali tuned out her English teacher’s introductory overview and watched the classroom clock count down to the end of the day.

3:00 . . . 3:01 . . . . 3:02 . . . . . 3:03 . . . . . .

She swore this had to be some alternate universe where clocks were run by snails. But somehow, the day did end, and when it did, there he was, leaning against her locker in the hallway.

“Hey Kali! You ready?”

Hell yes, she wanted to cry. But honesty, unfortunately, was the best policy. If she did not come clean now, it would only be a matter of time before someone exposed her and Patrick would think her a lying freak. “Actually, Patrick,” she exhaled nervously, “I wanted to tell you earlier but didn’t have the chance. I’m not a new student here. I’ve been in your homeroom since the ninth grade.” Kali clenched her hands around the book held tightly to her chest, bracing herself for the impact of his indifference.

“Really?” he asked, scratching his head in puzzlement. “Oh yeah . . . damn Kali. I didn’t recognize you; you look so different.”

“Yeah, I guess I had a growth spurt or something,” Kali shuffled her feet. “So about the tour . . .”

“You don’t need one,” he finished for her.

“Not really.” Shit, shit, shit! What was she doing?! She had just effectively blown the one and only chance she would ever have with a demigod, all while making him feel like a dick for not recognizing her. She should lie, tell him she had to go home to walk a dog or shampoo a carpet to save them both from further awkwardness. “I-”

“Do you want to grab something to eat instead?”

“-would love to!” she blurted. This confirmed it. She had somehow stumbled into an alternate universe. There was no other explanation for today’s bizarre turn of events. But hey, this universe was a lot more interesting than her own. Figuring that she would likely wake up in her real world at any moment, she accepted his hand with eagerness.

Sadly, her victory was short-lived. Now committed to spending an afternoon with Patrick, she realized she would have to woo him with her non-existent social skills. Fortunately, she need not have worried. Over a low-key dinner of burgers at fries at the nearest McDonald’s, Patrick entertained her by recounting his glorious victories from the soccer field. Kali relaxed, realizing that all that was required of her was to shoot him an occasional question between sips of her chocolate milkshake.

Passing his first test with little to no effort, Kali followed him back to their school’s athletic field where he proceeded to teach her the basics of passing and pinging the soccer ball. Unused to the physical exertion, Kali’s shirt was soon drenched with sweat. To make matters worse, her ill-fitted bra could not prevent her breasts from bouncing uncomfortably after each kick. Judging from the entranced look on his face, Patrick must have noticed. Mortified, Kali decided it was time to bring this day’s adventure to an end. “Hey, Patrick? I think I need to head home now.”

“Sure,” he readily agreed. “I’ll give you a ride.” Relieved, Kali followed him to his car and directed him to her family home. Just before turning into her driveway, however, he pulled over and stopped the car. Grabbing her hand, he forced her to look into his hungry eyes. “I had a great time today, Kali. I feel like an idiot for not getting to know you sooner. Can we do this again soon?”

“Of course . . .” she responded breathlessly as he closed the distance between them with a kiss. With a perfect kiss. His lips, velvet and warm, could pass as the pillows of angels. He pressed them against her own with just the right amount of gentle strength. She met his pressure with her own, her mouth teasing, inviting. He brushed his tongue against her lips, lightly at first to taste the flavor of her minty lip balm, then deeper to thrust inside.

Kali moaned. His kiss and warm hands caressing her body sent wave after wave of sensation to aroused core. Her mind fell numb as a sudden primal urge seized control of her, compelling her to claw urgently against his toned biceps and chest. Somewhere, a remaining thread of sanity called out to her, warning that this was all happening too fast, but it was drowned out entirely by the pounding of her heart as Patrick unbuckled his seatbelt to better his access to her body.

Placing both hands on her chest, he rotated his thumbs over he nipples until they formed stiff peaks. “God, Kali, your boobs are huge . . .” Not sensing any resistance from her, he raised the hem of her shirt over her bra and sprung the two mounds free with his hands. Frozen with surprise, she watched helplessly as he lowered his head to her right breast and drew her nipple into his mouth.

Kali gasped as each flick of his tongue increased the aching pressure between her legs. Disoriented by need, she gripped the upholstery wildly to save herself from falling. Sensing she was ready for something she did not fully understand, Patrick removed his practiced hand from her breast and ran a finger over the damp seam of her jeans with a grunt of satisfaction.

Stunned by his touch, a burst of sanity returned. “Patrick!” Kali cried, but whether from pleasure or fear, Kali couldn’t say. “I’m sorry, it’s just, this is moving so fast. I’m . . . I’m not ready.”

“Oh . . . okay,” Patrick panted, dragging himself from her bosom with herculean effort.

“I’m not saying never,” Kali assured, fearful she had displeased him, “just . . . give me some time.”

“Sure,” he said curtly as he turned his attention to starting the car.

The remainder of the drive and evening, Kali sulked silently, kicking herself for blowing the best experience of her life to date. She had turned down Patrick for sex. And odds were, he would not initiate it again, not after such a humiliating refusal. No, if she ever stood a second chance with him, she realized, the ball was now in her court.

 

 

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