Class Act: A Coach/Student Romance
Class Act: Chapter 3

TODAY FELT LIKE A short skirt kind of day, and I had the perfect one in mind—a little number I’d picked out with Mandy last week. I’d been saving it for a special occasion, and what was more special than a morning I could use a pick-me-up?

All weekend, Dad had been horrible, forcing me to spend most of the time away from home and sneaking in late at night when he’d already passed out from drinking. I’d avoided him as best I could, but it had come to a confrontation yesterday. Now I had a shiner, but a little makeup would fix that.

I riffled through my drawer of new, pretty underwear. Dad had burned the last set when he’d searched through my room and found them. The cute lace-trimmed cherry print underwear with the little ribbon on the back was perfect.

Sliding my legs into them and feeling the whisper of lace on my skin was amazing. I snapped the waistband in place and twirled in front of the full-length mirror to admire my ass. Was it normal to be turned on by looking at yourself in the mirror?

Chuckling, I skipped over to my closet and thumbed through the racks until I found the cute-as-fuck, sparkly gold sequined skirt and the black top that would look great together.

Heels or flats?

My laptop chimed from the unmade bed. I’d been so tired after my late-night session that I’d just pushed my laptop to the side and fallen asleep.

I threw myself onto the bed and navigated to the website I used to jerk off in front of men for money. Well, I didn’t jerk off all the time. Some men wanted me to look pretty and talk dirty to them while they got themselves off. And I had one client who wanted to see my feet. Several older guys wanted someone to talk to at night and listen to how lonely they were or to bitch about their wives.

The username in my inbox was familiar. TwinkDaddy69 hit me up once per week at the minimum. He was one of my most demanding clients, but at least he paid good money. So what if he wanted to see me bare my butthole on camera? He was miles away in another state. What harm could it do?

At least I wasn’t starving, and I was putting aside money for college. My douche canoe of a father wouldn’t pay for it.

I typed a quick reply to TwinkDaddy69 that I would be late for school and I couldn’t play now. Before I could get off the bed, he responded, tacking on a hundred dollars extra in tips to what he usually paid me. To some, it might not be a lot of money, but every little bit helped, and I didn’t always have time to do my camboy work. Some months I earned up to three thousand bucks, and others I barely made five hundred.

I took a peek at the time. Maybe I could finish up and get to school on time after all.

I told him to Venmo me the money, something the camming site forbade, but this way I didn’t have to pay them a cut. I read his request for what he wanted for the half an hour of pleasure time. Of course he wanted me naked, playing with myself.

As a healthy nineteen-year-old, I got myself hard in no time, even if I wasn’t too much into doing cam work today. I did the butt stuff he wanted, though, and moaned his name like he requested.

“Yes, Daddy. I want your cock in me.”

When the thirty minutes were up, I let out a sigh. I removed the butt plug I’d been working in and out of my ass.

“Sorry, we don’t have any time left,” I said.

He sent me a quick message that he wanted another fifteen minutes. He wasn’t done yet.

“I really have to get to school, but later, if you’re still online, we can continue. Bye!”

I ended the video call and powered off my laptop.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

It was later than I’d thought. I had only ten minutes to freshen up, which meant little time to fix my makeup really pretty. I had an extra three hundred in my bank account, though, so the day had started well. At least I could feed myself for a couple of weeks if Dad didn’t get groceries or if he fucked off somewhere, leaving me on my own.

After dressing, opting for my biker boots instead of heels, I stuffed my books into my bag and dashed down the stairs. I was late anyway, so it made no sense to skip the most important meal of the day. I was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of Cheerios, when Dad entered the kitchen.

What the hell was he doing home? Shouldn’t he be at work? He was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt like he’d gone out on an errand.

He marched to the table and grabbed the bowl of cereal, spilling it all over the counter.

“Fuck.” I jumped back to avoid getting milk over my clothes. “What’d you do that for?”

He walked over to the sink and dumped the bowl in it. “You don’t eat my food anymore. Not gonna have any kid under my roof disrespecting me and eating my shit. If you’re so grown, maybe get a job.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I had one, but how would I explain that?

“Fine.” I picked up my backpack.

“Where are you going? Clean up your mess.”

“You made it.”

“I said to clean that mess up, or you’ll replace your shit on the lawn when you get back from school later.”

It wasn’t the first time he had threatened to kick me out. Not that I believed he would go that far this time.

I bit my tongue not to respond to him, snatched paper towels, and wiped up the mess, then stomped out. This was my final year. As soon as I graduated, I was out of here. I could probably pay rent somewhere now, but who was going to rent an apartment to me?

Outside, I stopped dead in my tracks. Where the hell was my car? I’d parked in the yard when I got home last night. What the fuck? I checked the garage, but it wasn’t in there either. Chest tight, I returned to the kitchen.

“What did you do to my car?”

Dad didn’t even grace me with a look. “I wasn’t aware you had a car.”

I sucked in a deep breath. He’d always threatened to take my car away, but I needed it. “I’ll pay you back what you originally paid for it. Just tell me where it is. I need to get to school, and I’m already running late.”

“Sold it.”

“You did what?” He couldn’t be serious.

“I said I sold it. Needed the money.”

“For what?”

He turned to me. “I quit my job yesterday, so I can’t waste money maintaining two cars anymore.” He took a bite out of the peanut butter sandwich in his hand.

“I maintained that car, not you.” Frustrated tears popped up in my eyes. “What am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to get to and from school?”

“You think I give a fuck whether or not you go to school? You ain’t ever going to amount to anything good.” He brushed past me and stormed out of the kitchen.

I couldn’t breathe. I rubbed at my eyes and sniffed. He was trying to get to me, but I wouldn’t let him. But fuck, what was I supposed to do now? That asshole would never let me borrow his car. I had to get to school, not to mention cheerleading practice and games to attend.

And most importantly, I needed my car to get away from him.

I had to hitch a ride to the school, but I was determined not to let Dad stop me from going. I would never let him win. I’d called the school, though, pretending to be my dad to have them excuse my tardiness because of a family emergency.

When I made my way to the lockers, the halls were empty. The second period had already started. I was physically at school, but in my head, I was back home, telling Dad off for what he had done. If only I’d had the guts to grab his car keys and take his car to school, since he stole mine. I’d contemplated it briefly but had ruled it out because of possible death when he eventually caught up with me.

I still had too much to do with my life to die yet.

I got my books out of my locker and turned, only to have the books slapped out of my hands. They scattered on the floor. A booted foot lashed out and kicked one down the hall.

“You fucking asshole.” I glared at Priest. I’d had one person too many fuck with me this morning. I shoved him in the chest, and although I was smaller than him, he stumbled back.

“You just pushed me?”

“I guess it’s true what they say about you if you have to ask the obvious. You are stupid.” I stooped to pick my books up, but a hand in my hair halted me. What the hell was wrong with people pulling on my hair?

“Get your hands off me.” I tried to punch him, but he slammed me into the locker, the metal groaning its protest.

“You going to cry, you pussy?” He smirked. “Where’s that smart mouth now? Sucked a few dicks, and think that makes you tough?”

“Is that what this is about? You jealous you don’t know what a good BJ feels like, Priest? All you gotta do is ask.”

He grabbed the front of my shirt, crumpling the material in his fist. I shouldn’t keep taunting him, but I’d played doormat all my life, and now that I knew what it felt like to stand up for myself, I refused to let the fire burning through me be extinguished.

“You keep running those gay jokes, Emery, and I swear to god I’ll fuck you up.”

“Relax, man. You should lighten up. It’s harder up the ass when you’re this tense.”

His nostrils flared, and he raised his fist. I clenched my eyes tight and turned my head.

“Guthrie, that’s enough.”

Coach Cooper stood a few feet away from us, arms crossed over his chest.

Shit. I couldn’t get in trouble at this school. I’d get kicked off the cheerleading squad for sure if I had any disciplinary issues.

“We were just fooling around, Coach.” Priest laughed uneasily and stepped back, smoothing the front of my shirt.

“You should be in class, not lingering in the hall. Both of you.”

“Yes, sir. Going back there now.” Priest hurried away, the soles of his shoes slapping on the ground.

“I—my dad called the school,” I lied. “We had a family emergency. That’s why I’m late.”

I pulled down my shirt and swore at the large rip at the front that showed off the bra I had underneath. No one was supposed to see that. I grabbed the two sides of the shirt and pulled them together to cover my exposed chest. When I glanced up at Coach, his face was pink, and he looked everywhere but at me.

“If you’re being bullied at school, Emery, you need to tell someone about it.”

“I’m not being bullied. I can handle myself.”

“I heard what he said to you. It doesn’t matter what you like to wear or-or who you prefer being with. Nobody should harass you.” He bent and picked up the books Priest had slapped out of my hand. “You have something you can wear over that shirt?”

“No, sir.”

He sighed, walked over to the other side of the locker where Priest had kicked one of the books. “Follow me to the main office. We’ll see what we can replace for you in the lost and found.”

I pulled a face. “Wear other people’s clothes?”

“You don’t have a choice.” He cleared his throat. “It’s not appropriate for you to walk around the school like that.”

“Why not?” I lifted my chin. “Girls show their bras all the time. Do you tell them not to?”

He frowned. “I’m only trying to help you, Emery. You’re new and my daughter’s friend. I won’t comment on your choice of clothes. Just that your shirt is ripped. Wouldn’t you rather have something else to wear? If you feel comfortable dressed like that, by all means, get to class.”

I scanned his face for some sign he was lying. If Dad had seen the bra, he would have backhanded me. No way a man like Coach, who trained all those rowdy boys with their toxic masculinity, didn’t mind what I had on. But his face didn’t show disgust or intolerance.

He seemed…concerned.

When our eyes met, my heart skipped a beat, and my breath fled from my lungs. Heat suffused my cheeks.

“I, uh, I think maybe I should check out the lost and found.” I dropped my eyes.

“Let’s go, and we need to hurry. You’ve already missed so much of your class already. I’ll write a note to have the teacher let you in.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me in the right direction. It was a gesture I’d seen him do to the guys on the football team, so I knew it meant absolutely nothing to him. But my heart raced, and even after he’d removed his hand, the area where he’d touched me burned.

I didn’t want him to stop touching me.

Oh fucking hell, this was the last thing I needed to happen to me right now.

I couldn’t be attracted to my only friend’s married dad.