TWO

“I hate school, I hate school, I hate school,” Belle muttered as she slammed the passenger door shut on my minivan.

Back before I’d turned sixteen, Mother offered to buy me a new car. Expensive gifts like that were one way she felt she was still fulfilling her parental responsibilities in lieu of spending quality time with me. She thought I’d go for a fancy sports car, but I’d surprised her with the minivan request. She understood after the first day I drove the entire BTC to the beach.

Belle was still muttering about how she hated school. I didn’t respond except to arch an eyebrow and wave to Mari, who stood just outside Belle’s window. The curvy Latina crossed her arms underneath her massive rack, not to tease me or anything, but more to hug herself. She gave me an apologetic look and continued through the parking lot toward her own car.

“What’s wrong?” I asked my ‘sister’ with genuine concern. “Or at least, what’s happened since lunch? Everything was fine the last time I saw you.”

Belle scowled and stared out the front window. Several of her strawberry-blonde bangs had come loose from her ponytail and framed her face in way that simultaneously made her look disheveled and quite pretty. Her pale green eyes were daggers, half-narrowed and ready to skewer anyone who stepped into her path. “Darryl,” she spat.

I blinked and sat up straight. A minute ago, I had been ready to start the ignition, back out, and drive us home. But I let my hand fall away from the keys and pivoted between our two bucket seats to slide back and sit down on the middle bench seat. Reaching out, I set one hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

That simple touch broke the dam, and the waterworks started flowing. Belle sobbed, slipped out of her chair, and I helped her climb semi-sideways into my lap as the tears streamed down her cheeks. Our height difference made our heads more or less at the same elevation, and I kissed her cheek before trapping it against the side of mine while I continued to squeeze her tight.

Eventually, the tears began to subside. I waited her out, stroking the side of her arm and shoulder.

“Talk to me,” I encouraged.

“Darryl’s an asshole,” she muttered, wiping her eyes.

“I figured. What did he do?” Darryl was the boy Belle didn’t want me talking about to her dad. Last weekend, we’d been at the mall so Belle and Mari could shop for back-to-school clothes. As usual, I was their fashion consultant to give them a male opinion for how hot they looked in their outfits. We ran into Darryl and two of his buddies, and although we’d never been friends, there had been some flirting and Darryl had expressed interest in seeing Belle at school. With our academic calendar starting on a Thursday, Belle had been pent up with excitement all week looking forward to seeing him again, although their reunion had apparently not gone well.

Belle pouted while I cuddled her close and nuzzled her neck with my nose. I continued rubbing her arms until she calmed down a little more, and eventually she turned her head to look at me with tear-streaked eyes. “Why do boys have to all be sex-obsessed bastards?”

“They’re called hormones. Come with puberty,” I quipped. “C’mon, I thought you took AP Bio last year.”

Belle snorted and promptly choked on a booger. I kept a pack of tissues in the pocket behind the passenger seat, and she reached out to grab a couple and blow her nose.

When she re-settled on my lap, I hugged her close and asked quietly, “Did he do anything that requires me to kick his ass? I did promise your dad I’d pound his face in.” My blood ran cold for a moment. “Did he touch you?”

Belle felt the tenseness in my arms and quickly turned to face me again. “No, nothing like that.”

I unclenched my jaw and relaxed a little.

She sighed and sagged back against my chest. “He just...” Her voice trailed off. She glanced up at the roof, gathered her thoughts, and let out a long exhalation. “Matty...” she began quietly.

I waited her out, just holding her close.

“Does it ... bother you ... when we all tease you?” she asked softly.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

I did. As the only guy in the group, I’d always gotten teased pretty mercilessly. Five teenage girls (six after Neevie joined) wanted to push their boundaries and test out their feminine wiles on the males of society, and there was no practice dummy better than me. If one of the girls wanted to figure out the optimal angle for tossing her hair, batting her eyelashes, and flashing a coquettish look over her shoulder, she’d try it out a few times on me to perfect her technique before bringing it to school and using it on a guy they’d actually date. Wanted to check out a guy’s reaction to her new bikini before wearing it to the beach? Bring it over to Matty’s house, sashay across the pool deck a few times to make sure he got a good look at some T&A, and see if he popped a woody. I constantly had cleavage pushed up into my face. The girls kept bending over at the waist to pick up something off the floor. I got touched ... a LOT ... My chest, my shoulders, my arms. My legs got rubbed underneath the table just sitting in a booth at McDonald’s.

But no matter how much the girls teased me, I NEVER took advantage of them. Not once had I ever grabbed a juicy ass uninvited. Not once had I pawed at a boob, even when it was within easy reach. You know: the kinds of things that would get guys slapped. Okay, in fairness I may have gotten a bit of side-boob with my fingertips giving one of the girls a back massage, and I HAD gotten in some serious groping when the girls grabbed my hands and put them on their goodies from outside their clothing. But the cardinal rule was that I NEVER initiated, only accepted whatever they felt comfortable giving. This was the reason the girls all trusted me. I was Matty, the “safe” guy. So all of them continued to tease me, even Belle.

Taking a deep breath, I exhaled and told her seriously, “You know I don’t mind. I love it.”

“But don’t you ever wish we would let you do more?” Belle gave me a skeptical look and turned a little more sideways in my lap. I became consciously aware that her cute plaid blouse was unbuttoned to her navel, exposing a white tank top scooped low enough to give me a great downward view into her 32D cleavage. And noting my gaze, she thrust her chest forward a little, making damn sure I was looking.

I frowned, not sure yet where this was going or what it had to do with Darryl. Instinctively, I started to make up a dismissive comment about how we were all friends and that I respected the girls too much to think of them that way, but this was Belle asking me and she knew the truth anyway. She just wanted me to say it out loud. Although I’d briefly glanced down at Belle’s tits, I focused on her pretty face and answered, “Of course I do. You’re a bunch of super-hot girls and I’m just as much of a sex-obsessed bastard as Darryl is.”

“No you’re not. How many times have I sat in your lap just like this?”

“Uh, more times than I can count.”

“And how many times have you ever grabbed my ass?”

“Never.” My eyes narrowed. “Did Darryl grab--”

“No, no,” she cut me off. “I already told you he didn’t touch me.”

I settled down and exhaled slowly.

Belle reached a hand up, caressing my cheek and turning my face to hers so that we were only inches apart. Again, the height difference was such that we were basically eye-to-eye. “Do you wish you could grab my ass?”

“Yes.”

“Do you wish you could grab my tits?”

“Yes.”

“Do you wish you could throw me down across my bed, sliding your aching dick deep into my pussy, and fuck the shit out of me?”

“Jeezus, Belle.” My eyes popped open wide and I leaned back a bit.

“Do you?”

“You’re like my sister, B.”

“But do you?”

“No! I don’t!”

Belle frowned, and now she was leaning back away from me. She looked hurt. “You don’t?”

“Like I said: I think of you as a sister.”

“We’re not related, Matty.”

“I know that.”

“And you said you wish you could grab my ass and my tits. THAT’S not very brotherly.”

“You’ve got an amazing ass. And tits. And I’m a sex-obsessed bastard.”

“But you don’t want to fuck me?”

I sighed. “You’re ... You’re my Annabelle. That’s a line I can’t cross. Not you.”

“Not me.” She blinked. “But you fantasize about the others, don’t you? Sam, Neevie, Zofi.”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

“Alice, Mari.”

“Yes, alright?”

“But not me?”

“Belle, please.”

“You can put your hand inside my shirt right now. I wouldn’t stop you.”

“Belle.”

“Okay, okay.” She raised her hands defensively, glanced away, and gave me an unsure look. “It’s because I’m a little shorty, isn’t it?”

I barked a laugh and shook my head. “No, you’re beautiful and sexy, B. I just ... I won’t ... I can’t let myself think of you that way. You’re my Annabelle.”

“But if I was a total stranger you’d never met before?”

“I’d wanna throw you onto my bed and fuck your brains out, sure.”

Looking a little mollified, she wrapped her arm around the back of my neck and gave me a quick peck on the lips, similar to the hundreds she’d given me this year already.

“What does all this have to do with Darryl?”

Belle sighed, her frown returning. She glanced at the roof again for a moment before giving me a weary look and shaking her head. “After our last meeting went so well, I sort of assumed he’d come ask me out on a date today.”

“But he didn’t?”

She shook her head. “At the mall, he was totally into me. Today, nothing. I finally went looking for him after school. But when I popped up and said hi, he pulled me into a quiet corner and...”

Her voice trailed off, her shoulders sagged, and I instinctively hugged her closely once more. She had assured me he didn’t touch her, so I relaxed on that front. And I waited patiently for her to gather herself.

“He said he thought I was super-cute, but that he was looking for a ‘mature’ relationship. His words. I asked him what that meant, and although he blushed and looked embarrassed for a bit, in the end he said he’d asked around and the other guys told him I was a girl who wouldn’t put out.”

My jaw dropped. “You serious?”

“I told him I was waiting for the right guy and was hoping it might turn out to be him. But he shook his head and admitted he just wanted to get laid. He said everybody knew the BTC was a bunch of prick-teases, and he didn’t want to deal with all the teasing if it wasn’t going to go anywhere.”

“Belle...” I sighed, held her just behind her ears, and pressed her forehead to mine. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffled but took a deep breath and mumbled, “He probably did me a favor. Better I know now he’s just another dumb jock looking to pop my cherry before moving on to his next conquest.”

“That IS true,” I agreed. “And a very mature response, if I may say so.”

“Then why do I feel like shit?”

“Rejection is never easy.”

“You seem to deal with it just fine every day.”

I pulled back to look into her eyes. “Wait, what?”

“Isn’t that what it feels like when one of the girls lets you get oh-so-close to starting something but won’t give you that final inch? Like when Sam shoves her big tits into your face and starts peeling back the edge of her bikini top right next to your lips but doesn’t quite let you suck on her nipple? Rejection?”

I frowned. “No, not at all.”

“Then what DOES it feel like?”

I smiled and brushed her loose bangs back from her eyes, tucking the strands behind her ears. And after giving her a quick peck on the nose, I explained, “It feels like a beautiful woman, in the flower of her youth, wants to explore her own sexuality and feels comfortable enough to do that with me. She trusts me. And I would never do anything to betray that trust.”

“I do trust you, Matty.”

I grinned. “I know.”

Taking a deep breath, Belle managed a smile, and she wrapped both arms around my midsection while setting her head down on my shoulder. I hugged her tight, stroked her spine, and held her close. Finally, she seemed to be at peace.

After a minute, I stroked her hair and said, “Look, it’s the first day of school. Nobody’s assigned us any homework and the whole gang will be over at my house within thirty minutes. Let’s get home, get changed, and you can commiserate with your friends.”

Belle stayed in my hug for a long time, pushing her nose into the side of my neck. She got her breathing under control, looked up at me, and puckered up. I gave her another quick brotherly peck, patted her head, and released my grip.

She got off my lap and maneuvered back into the passenger seat. After buckling her seatbelt, Belle glanced over at me and muttered, “Why can’t guys be more like you?”

I shrugged and flashed a smirk. “Sorry. I’m one of a kind.” I climbed back into the driver’s seat, put the van in reverse, and we headed home.