This is my first attempt at starting a story on here. I've tried a few things on Fiction Press, but not quite this depraved. I'm inspired by some of the examples here (especially Roommates), so I thought I would give it a try. I don't pretend this is that good. I'm not even sure that I'm posting this right.
Chapter 1
I turn to move past Hayley McSween in the hallway connecting the kitchen to the dishwasher in the restaurant serving St. Edmund’s Country Club. With a hand on my chest, she lightly pushes me into the door for the stockroom. “Can you close for me tonight? I want to go to the mall with from friends.” Her fingers trace from my chest to my belt buckle suggesting a possible compensation for my sacrifice.
I am Kyler … Kyler Jakubowski. At nineteen years old, I scrape, borrow, and force my way through my sophomore year in bio-premed at Stony Brook University on Long Island. Straight A’s so far – lookin’ good. It may be mercenary, but I will do just about anything to endure this crucible for that glimpse of wealth I see at the other end.
I live in a cramped, non-air-conditioned attic apartment of an ancient home that I rent from some old couple – Mr. and Mrs. Watson. With its back staircase access, I never have to see them, if I don’t want to. They’re okay, though – always waving to me and baking me stuff. Back in the day, the house was an old whaling captain’s home, so I have access to a little glass room above the attic. His wife could watch for his ship to return. No lie – it’s called a belvedere.
My college is on Long Island, but my savings account is strictly Schenectady. It was a lot easier to afford the $300 monthly rent before my roommate, Freddie Steffanaur, was expelled for copying an entire term paper, verbatim, from an internet site – for the third time. What a fuckin’ jackass.
Which is why, when Hailey McSween asks me to close for her at work -- I’m tempted to say, “Yes” without delay. I can use the extra hours, even though I have a shitload of homework – I can fake it through Statistics, but Orgo is getting pretty tough. I’m lying -- even though Hailey’s only sixteen, she is smoking hot with reputation to spare. I’m always happy to do her a favor … just in case it could lead to something.
Ah shit, who am I kidding? That’s just living out one of my masturbation fantasies. With a healthy allowance, she doesn’t need the job, but her parents think it builds character. I’m glad I enjoyed a few seconds of that delirium before answering because she reaches down and traces my stiffness from the outside with just one finger, and it drives me senseless, “I can make it worth your while.”
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