The Wrong Treatment Pt. 06

Winter Formal. My first dance ever, an event I could have never imagined attending at the beginning of the year. The sheer look of consternation on my parents’ faces, when I shared the news, was truly meme-worthy. They were so overprotective. It was only after explaining that my date – Misty Armstrong, was the same girl I’d been tutoring after school, that my dad relaxed. My mom, on the other hand, was unable to contain a tiny squeak of excitement.

I had never told them about any other girls I’d dated during high school. Mostly because those relationships had been fleeting, barely lasting more than a week, and of those girls, none were in the same league as Misty. If my parents were ever curious about that stuff they had not shown it. In my dad’s case, I figured it was because when he was my age he attended an all-boys private school. He didn’t even start dating or meet my mom until well after his studies at university.

My dad flinched slightly as my mom kicked him under the table. It was evident she wanted him to say something supportive.

“Well, that’s quite a surprise,” he finally chimed in. My mom rolled her eyes, then took my hand and squeezed it.

“You’ll have such a great time with Misty at the Winter’s Festival.”

“Winter Formal,” I corrected her.

****************************************************************************

Jump to the night of and there I was, outside the gymnasium, Misty to my right, waiting in line to get our photo taken as a memento for a future scrapbook. Misty playfully poked me with her elbow as she noticed the couple ahead of us – Andre Michaels and Niki Turner. It was the same Andre I told her was caught up in a steamy affair with our high school history teacher.

In the last week, I’d been compelled to share everything with Richie’s sister. Not only because I felt I owed it to her, but also to unburden the weight of so many secrets with someone I genuinely cared about. It was cathartic, though obviously I omitted my responsibility in her brother’s current coma. As for the dirty library of live-streamed affairs collecting on my hard drive, she didn’t seem to mind, even skipping through some videos of Jada and Jordan. She seemed particularly interested in their blossoming relationship, no doubt since she’d facilitated it. Thankfully, I had never procured a video of her giving Richie oral, and I was glad that she didn’t ask.

Since I explained that distance was the only way to keep the dark magic at bay, Misty had conscientiously avoided the hospital. Like an addict though, I could tell there were still triggers for her brother that clouded her mind from time to time, a dazed look of longing and desperation that took a while to snap out of.

I observed as Andre gallantly bent to one knee to help the camera adjust for the height disparity that came with Niki’s petite 5’1″ stature. I suspected Mrs. Watson probably wasn’t too keen on his choice of date, but the married woman was sensible enough to realize that this outing provided a wonderful opportunity to keep the world in the dark and shield their festering immoral and unprofessional relationship.

I bashfully looked down and pulled my hands from my pockets. Where I was stuck donning one of my cousin’s hand-me-down suits, Misty looked incredible in her black, faux off-the-shoulder style dress and sparkling emerald heels. The sleek outfit complimented her curves perfectly. Our arms intertwined as we moved forward and posed for the cameraman. I didn’t want to jinx the moment by saying anything, but my heart was doing somersaults as I breathed in the delicious flower-petal-scented shampoo of my date’s glossy chocolate-brown hair, and felt the warmth of her soft waist beneath my grip.

I froze in place, trying not to let my expression betray my love-struck nerves. The camera clicked sharply. The flashes momentarily blinded me as we were quickly ushered inside the gymnasium by the school PE teacher, turned bouncer for the night.

The whole court had undergone a whimsical transformation. Twinkling string lights hung down from the ceiling casting a soft glow that mimicked the starry sky. The indoor bleachers had been retracted to make room for the dance floor, and the surrounding walls were adorned with cut-out snowflakes, snowmen, and Christmas trees. Trays of bite-sized cupcakes, store bought cookies, and warm churros sat next to massive bowls of apple cider and punch. Kids, dressed to the nines, flitted about while the chaperones wandered the perimeter.

Beyonce music filtered through the overhead speakers and drowned out all other noise. The only challenge left this semester was finals next week, but for tonight, no one was letting that bog them down.

The scents of cinnamon, fried butter, and frosting lured me toward the food table. However, Misty had another plan. She entwined her fingers with mine and pulled me toward the herd of teens on the dance floor. I had misguided myself into believing that as a non-conformer, dancing to the clean versions of the Top yıldırım escort 40 playlist wouldn’t appeal to my date. But my error in judgment was soon realized as we squeezed into the mess of rowdy teenagers.

Burning right through the confidence potion in my bloodstream, I unsuccessfully sought not to embarrass myself. With the pulsing music thrumming in my ears, I urged my body to move to the beat, but my limbs had a mind of their own. Despite an encouraging smile from my date, whose movements were as fluid and natural as a seasoned partyer, my awkward steps felt woefully inadequate in comparison. After three songs, I was thankful when I lost Misty to the crowd, giving me an excuse to escape the kaleidoscope of lights as well as the sticky human blob of kids and their raging hormones.

I passed Jada and Jordan on the outskirts of the floor. The blondes were liplocked, in matching white dresses, each adorned with a pair of fake plastic angel wings. It hadn’t taken more than a day or two after the events of the football game for both of them to come out as bi to the student body. They weren’t the only kids snogging, but they certainly provoked the most attention from onlookers seated at the surrounding tables. I scanned the room for Braxton, Jada’s ex, and wasn’t surprised not to see him despite being one of the most popular kids on the football team. Brent and his entourage occupied the largest table. We locked eyes for a moment, but then I averted his gaze. Unlike Andre, the blonde bully had come stag. He’d also cum in his mom like ten minutes before showing up this evening. Mrs. Young was insatiable.

I grabbed a cup of chilled cider off the beverage table and drained it.

“Refill?” A girl asked from behind the big bowl of sweet juice.

“Uh-sure…” I held my cup up unsteadily, surprised it took me so long to recognize the girl who spoke was actually a full grown woman and history teacher, Mrs. Watson. I guess the chaperones were observing the drink area to make sure no one spiked the trough.

The tawny haired mother was not dressed like a normal chaperone. For one thing, she looked really fucking good. Instead of sporting some form of faculty khaki or even a traditional muted dress, Eva Watson had opted for a fiery number that would surely have called more attention if the room were brighter. Her strapless, rich burgundy gown exposed the entirety of her long and creamy neckline. The form-fitting fabric descended into a daring thigh-high slit, which revealed a glimpse of her long, slender legs. To finish off the festive ensemble, the MILF sported high heels, a diamond pendant necklace, and lacy black gloves that encased her otherwise nude forearms. I couldn’t help myself, gawking at the exposed top half of her large breasts, but it didn’t matter.

Something caught Mrs. Watson’s attention behind me, causing her mouth to pop open ever so slightly. I turned my head to see who she was suddenly focused on, but I should have known better. Andre and Niki were situated near the DJ booth, the short girl was twerking and grinding up against the dark skinned boy. They weren’t the only couple flaunting their sexuality and testing the patience of the older adults, but knowing Andre’s reputation, I didn’t blame Mrs. Watson for being jealous.

The ravishing woman ladled a small portion into my cup, placed the dark cider in my hand, winked affectionately, and then made a swift beeline toward the DJ stand. Before I got to see what was about to unfold, my attention was drawn away by a tap on the shoulder.

“Hey, man!” A dorky-looking kid with wild, tousled curls and wire-frame spectacles called out over the thumping beat. Spencer Kress was one of my closest, and perhaps only, friends during our freshmen and sophomore years. We had bonded, in typical nerd fashion, over our love of television shows and lack of any real social life. Though both of us were on the scrawny side, I had always dwarfed him by a few inches.

“Bruh, how have you been? Feels like I haven’t seen you all year,” he professed.

It was true. Starting last year and continuing into this one, our schedules were split up, and we no longer even shared the same lunch period. Seeing him now brought back a rush of unexpected happiness, but also a tinge of guilt. Though I didn’t have a lot of friends to spare, I had spent the last few months pretty isolated, focussing on taking down Brent and dealing with the aftermath of my actions. Considering neither Spence nor I were regulars at high school functions, I was surprised to see him.

“Spencer, wow. What are you doing here?” I blurted out.

“Same as you it seems, I heard there was going to be free food,” he said, nabbing one of the chocolate chip cookies from the platter. I grinned as he took a bite.

“Seems like some fancy threads to splurge on for a couple of store-bought cookies.” I quipped, admiring his new-looking fitted tuxedo.

He waved a hand in front of his face to signal he needed to finish swallowing yıldızeli escort the cookie. Once he was done he continued, “My mom, she said I needed a nice suit for college. But really, I think she just wanted to make sure I didn’t show up to this thing in an Indiana Jones cosplay outfit… Which is frankly insulting, you know? Cause the themes would totally clash. And Gina would-“

“You’re here with Gina?” I interrupted.

He gestured again with his hands, this time toward a few tables down. Gina was a nerdy, shy girl prone to stuttering when she got nervous. Though not typically beautiful, she was cute in a quirky Velma Dinkley-type way. She wore a pretty, light-pink dress that complimented her short auburn hair, and she waved politely when she saw us look over.

“Had I known you were coming too, we could have split an Uber Black,” Spencer reasoned.

“Dude, I can’t believe you and Gina!” I said aghast.

“Yeah… I was going to wait till we came back from winter break to ask her out officially, but then she started hinting heavy that Aaron, that snot from freshmen Spanish, was pressuring her to come to this gig, so I had no choice but to make a move.”

“That’s super romantic dude,” I deadpanned.

He punched my arm lightly. “So, how’s senior year treating you? I heard Brent is still a dick,” he said in a cavalier way, but I could tell the question was genuine. I gathered the several beatdowns I’d received from Brent and Richie had been gossip worthy enough to make their rounds.

“You heard about that?”

He sighed. “Yeah, I tell you, people who peak in high school are gonna get what’s coming to them soon enough.”

I nodded in agreement, savoring the taste of cider before admitting, “Actually, I don’t think he’s going to be too much of a problem going forward.”

Part of me wanted to disclose more to Spencer. Hell, some of me wanted to tell him everything like I would have if this had happened a couple years ago. He was that type of friend who was able to find humor in anything. But I thought better of it.

He regarded me with a skeptical look. “So, you gonna tell me who you’re here with, or should I just start guessing?”

I took another sip of my drink, milking what was sure to be a fun reveal, but before I was able to say a word-

“There you are,” Misty strolled up beside me.

Spencer’s gaze darted between the two of us, measuring our familiarity. His eyebrows arched as the truth washed over him.

“Spencer, Misty. Misty, Spencer,” I quickly introduced.

“Hi,” Misty gave Spencer a polite smile before squeezing my arm. “Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?”

Spencer appeared momentarily speechless, a rare feat.

“Good to see you, man,” I offered, giving an apologetic shrug as Misty guided me away.

Once we were out of earshot, I wavered, “Hey I don’t know if my feet can take another dance-“

“You’ve got a bigger problem than that,” Misty rounded on me, her tone suddenly dead serious. “You said Andre and Mrs. Watson are still infected, right?”

“Yeah…” My heart sank. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I was just heading into the bathroom, when Tori stopped to warn me that Andre was in one of the girl’s stalls fucking the daylights out of some bitch.”

“Fuck.” I glanced toward the restrooms and then around at the visible chaperones. Of course, Mrs. Watson was nowhere to be seen. “Jesus Christ, they’re fucking idiots.”

Thankfully, most of the other chaperones seemed to have their hands full dealing with Jada and Janice, who had graduated from simple kissing to flat out ass-grabbing and grinding their crotches against their thighs. As the two cheerleaders dressed as angels dry-humped in public, I felt anxiety wash over me.

I looked back toward the facilities and weighed my limited options.

Conflicting thoughts surged through my mind. Why should I care if they got caught? There’s no way it would come back to me… But on the other hand, if I did nothing, the night would be ruined, Misty would probably think less of me, and I’d be responsible for destroying a woman’s life, and possibly sending her to jail.

Misty looked at me expectantly. With no more time for hesitation, I made my way towards the girl’s bathroom, but it was already too late. A student bolted out of the door with a disgusted look on her face and made a beeline for the nearest chaperone, Vice Principal Blakensharp. Misty saw it too. Frantically, I surveyed my surroundings. I had less than a minute to divert attention away from the bathroom and save the hides of my history teacher and her younger lover.

Napkins, plastic cups, someone’s forgotten cell phone… I was beyond agitated, I was in panic mode. I almost wished someone had spiked the cider; perhaps then the situation wouldn’t feel so stressful. Even a hit of the shit Misty liked to smoke under the stands with her friends seemed tempting at the moment. Wait a second.

“Hey, um, do you happen to have a lighter?!” I shouted over the yozgat escort music.

Misty blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected request. Her eyes roamed down her sleek dress, seemingly questioning where such an item could possibly be hidden. Embarrassment tinged my cheeks.

“Nevermind. Forget it,” I started to say.

Misty rolled her eyes. “Not that now’s the time, but…” She conjured a silver lighter out of thin air like a magician producing flowers, and effortlessly flicked it open with a practiced motion.

“Oh my god, you’re incredible.” I resisted the urge to hug her. “Okay, we don’t have much time… have you seen season two of The Office?”

****************************************************************************

The girl, whom I now recognized as Melissa, the teacher’s pet, ran up and tugged on the Vice Principal’s arm. He was entirely engrossed in trying to pull Jada and Jordan off each other without touching either girl in a way that could be misconstrued as inappropriate. Given their attire, it was no easy task, and many of the surrounding students had their phones out, recording the chaos in the unlikely hope of getting featured on TMZ.

“Mr. Blackensharp! Two students are having sex in the girls bathroom!” Melissa finally shrieked.

Ironically, her announcement captured everyone’s attention, including Jada and Jordan, who paused for a moment to look at the startled administrator.

Mr. Blackensharp’s fists clenched into tight balls. The salt-and-pepper bearded, middle-aged Vice Principal marched resolutely toward the restrooms.

I shook my head and restlessly paced by the brick wall near the gym exit. “Come on Misty, come on…”

I couldn’t even hear the music anymore over the unremitting stream of thoughts in my mind. How stupid could they be? For fuck sake Andre, have some self control. The more those two interacted, the less inhibited they’d become. At least Brent and his mom were discreet.

I thought back to Mrs. Watson’s face earlier. Seeing Niki must have really fucked with her. Where was Niki? Had she come to realize that her date had ditched her for an older woman? I guess it didn’t matter. Not when they were going to get caught anyways. And it was my fault. Fuck fuck fuck.

Mr. Blackensharp was rapidly closing in on the girls’ bathroom. Ten steps away. Nine. Eight. THERE.

A sudden burst of flames erupted from the back of the room where one of the acrylic-coated tablecloths suddenly caught ablaze.

I drew in a sharp breath, ready to yell “fire,” but someone else beat me to it, unleashing a loud cry, “FIRE! FIRE!” Several others quickly joined in, including me.

After a few tense seconds, the music ground to a halt, and all eyes turned toward the pluming flames. The kids with their phones out redirected their focus, now captivated by the unfolding emergency. Mr. Blackensharp stopped in his tracks. Sensing that I had mere seconds before the room could devolve into frenzied mayhem, and not wanting to risk anyone’s safety, I turned to the wall and pulled the fire alarm.

The blaring siren filled the air as the ceiling sprinkler system, connected directly to the school’s outdoor water tower, burst into action, showering the entire gymnasium with water. Students, adorned in their most expensive clothes, and girls with meticulously done makeup found themselves drenched in the unexpected deluge. The once festive atmosphere turned into a messy scene, with many shrieking and scrambling for cover. Chaperones did their best to direct the foot traffic, trying to maintain order as the students shuffled out of the gym. Brent’s group, ever eager to be at the forefront, shoved their way through the crowd.

Again, I locked eyes with my bully, and a wave of resentment washed over me. This asshole was going to be the worst father. The dance was over. And the fire was doused.

Amid the last few seconds of chaos, I spotted Andre slipping out from the bathroom, skillfully blending into the crowd as he made his escape. Seconds later, Mrs. Watson, her face obscured by a jacket, followed suit, sneaking away toward the crowded exit.

Despite the fire being promptly extinguished, a faint, wispy trail of smoke flowed out of the building and the scent of burnt plastic lingered as we collected ourselves outside the building. I was happy to see that, even with the shivering and damp conditions, some kids were smiling and laughing at the absurdity of the moment.

“Bro, nice thinking!” Spencer approached and clapped me on the back. “You managed to ruin the party and make the night unforgettable all at once!”

Gina dallied behind Spencer, her once puffy light pink dress now a soggy magenta mess. I felt the need to offer an apology, but she surprised me by speaking up.

“Yeah, th-that was gr-great. You pr-probably saved lives.” Gina said, her voice trembling. I couldn’t tell if it was her stutter or the fact she was probably freezing.

I blushed, feeling guilty but not regretful.

“Mr. Hitomi,” a deep voice resonated from behind me. I turned around to see Mr. Blackensharp, standing there. Up close, the guy was way more intimidating, half a foot taller than me with a scowl. His short, graying hair was flattened to his forehead. “I’m told you’re the one to thank for putting out the fire.