Worse Than Nicotine

Tuesday nights had a usual schedule. Holly came home from school, did her homework (hard to believe, but she did do it), and went down to dinner. Tuesdays were the only night her dad was home from work early. Her dad was a construction worker, and because he worked longer hours, they gave him Tuesdays off. They thought he would like at least one day of the week to have a nice dinner with his family.

His company clearly didn’t know this family.

During the dinner was when the arguments started. Holly’s parents would ask her how her day was and usual “adult-ish” questions, and when Holly would give them one word answers―she’s a teenager, after all―they would snap. They would bring her down and complain about her smoking problem, which they shouldn’t be talking since Holly’s mother had one as well. They would compare her to her older and more successful sister who was off living in California with her husband that she eloped, and here was Holly, listening to her parents shit-talk her to her face in good ol’ Baltimore.

But she still managed to keep her spirits high, no matter how bad her parents tried to keep them low. She did have things to keep her happy and preoccupied: i.g., alcohol and cigarettes, and most of all, music.

Going back to Tuesday night, after the constant complaints to Holly’s education, the blonde daughter had slumped her back while venturing back up her staircase and to her room. She wanted to have a drink, but she didn’t want to wait until her parents went to bed to sneak down to their liquor cabinet. She wasn’t―surprisingly―in the mood for a cigarette either. So she threw on a pair of sweats and went to bed.

---

You know that adrenaline rush to go as far as your body will let you when you kiss someone? And especially if that someone was a person you were attracted to both mentally and physically? Holly never thought she’d experience that in a dream.

His calloused hands roamed her body, starting from the top of her head to the bottom of her rear. What an expert, she thought as her lips moved roughly with his. She wasn’t sure of her surroundings too much. She knew there was a bed behind her from the softness and texture of the satin comforter brushing against her thighs, but besides that, her eyes remained closed. The man in front of her was definitely an expert on feeling a girl up, seeing as he was gripping her by the small of her back with one hand and the back of her skull with the other. She could feel herself smirking into the kiss, her tongue encircling with his.

And since this is a fan fiction: yes, their tongues did battle for dominance.

His leaning weight became too much of her small frame, and their combined bodies fell back on the large satin comforter. The man’s lips left hers for a second and when they came back, she could feel the smoothness of his skin as she tangled her hands around his neck. Without even knowing, he pulled off her shirt in one swift motion and she bit down against his lip. “Ow,” he muttered, laughing softly.

That was when she opened her eyes.

She bit back her scream as her pupils met with the one and only, Mr. Gaskarth.

---

Holly didn’t know if it was a normal teenage thing to wake up in a pool of sweat. She had never done it before, but then again, she had never had quite as much as a steamy dream with one of her teachers before either.

She stood from her bed and walked slowly down the stairs to the kitchen. She looked at the clock on the stove. Two AM. She padded over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out her father’s favorite bottle of aged whiskey and took a big gulp. She welcomed the burning liquid down her throat and screwed the lid back on before returning it back to its place. She needed that.

“Jesus, remind mom to never make tacos again.” She said aloud to herself. Who knows what were in those to make Holly have that dream?

No matter how much she wanted to deny her enjoyment, she couldn’t. That dream was amazing, so amazing she wished it was real. She wanted something like that for so long, but she couldn’t with having the Virgin Mary as her boyfriend, a.k.a. Brendon. They had tried during last summer, but Brendon had chickened out as soon as Holly’s top was off. She didn’t take it as an insult though, she knew he meant nothing by it. I just wish he’d grow some balls before we graduate, Holly had thought to herself that night.

But he’s still your boyfriend, her conscious reminded. You’ll wait for him, because HE is your boyfriend.

“And not Mr. Gaskarth,” she finished out loud before heading back to her bed.

Notes

I had a half day today at school so I could write this! Now more writing time ^w^
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