LbA: Victorious, Part 1

A/N: Hey guys!  This post is a little different. I had been concocting it in my mind for awhile, and finally decided to go for it.  It's written from Victoria's POV.  I'm not sure how many "parts" of Victoria's story there will be, but I'll try to do them once a week until I'm through, and do Aleah's the other post during the week.  I wanted to step outside my comfort zone and write a different personality.  Please, be honest and let me know what you all think.  I mean, don't just be like "I hate it, yo!", but if it really is terrible or poorly written, or feel like it's not going to add any insight to Luktoria, please tell me.  I can definitely end her POV with the one I write next week, or I can keep it going for a few more (because I have several ideas).  Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~A

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I sighed heavily and set my pencil down on my always uneven desk, watching it roll to the edge, building momentum, and dropping off the edge, “tinking” onto the floor.  I put my head in my hands, massaging my scalp with my fingers, staring down at this math, and watching it disappear as the fiery cascades of my red hair flowed over it.  School- especially math- has always been difficult for me.  It probably wouldn’t have been, but I had chosen to not ever try, and to get by on my charm and good looks.  Literally.  I knew what to say, and who I would need to flirt with in order to pass every class I ever took in high school.  Whether that be the teacher, or one of the smart kids.

I’d had my job at Abercrombie for several years now and was a Manager In Training back in Kansas, until Luke asked me to start college classes up at UNL to be closer to him.  Of course I said yes.  I was able to transfer to the Abercrombie in Lincoln, but had to drop out of the MIT program in order to take full time classes.

I heard some giggling outside and turned to look out the window next to my desk to see her.  I scowled in disgust.  

 I knew I was hot.  I had never felt inferior- or intimidated- by anyone, until her.  Her shiny brown hair was up in a braided pony tail, golden glints teasing through each strand, with a head band keeping back the fly aways.  She was wearing a tight white tennis dress that hugged her athletic, clearly toned body, and her perky breasts slightly jiggling with each step she took.  Her tan, muscular legs, on the other hand, had no jiggle.  Her tennis bag was slung over her shoulder, and she was on the phone, oblivious to my gawking.  If I could look like any other woman on this planet, it would be her.  And I hated her even more for it.  What was even worse was that she was so fucking nice.  I mean, not to me, but I understood why.  If we had ever met on other terms, we probably could’ve... no, would’ve been best friends.  Best fucking friends.  I watched Aleah get into her car and drive away.

~~~~~~~February 2008~~~~~~~

I reached down acting like I was itching my leg, but was really picking up the note my best friend, Jill, had slid to me with her toe on the floor.  We were in Spanish class (our last class of the day), and Jill and I were doing anything other than learn Spanish.  Unfortunately, Senora Cortes also knew that, which is why we were both failing.  Well, Jill was failing; I had a D-.  I don’t really count that as failing.  It’s passing... barely.  We were only taking this class anyway because we had to take two years of a foreign language. 

Senora Cortes was married, so flirting wouldn’t work.  She wasn’t into girls.  And she seemed immune to my pleas and begging.  I knew I’d need to turn my attention to a classmate, but the pickings were slim.  Aside from Jill, the girls already hated me, and there were only two guys in my class, and they weren’t doing well, either.

Jill’s note was asking (telling me) to go to the mall after school with the other cheerleaders.  We were the only two freshmen to make varsity, and so whenever the upperclassman said jump, we asked how high.   Apparently today we were going to the mall.  I spent the rest of the class cleaning underneath my perfectly manicured fingernails.

We obediently followed after the cheerleaders at the mall, ooh’ing and aah’ing at the outfits they tried on.  We quietly took in the gossip and snarky comments they made about other people in the school, learning our place, and what our outlook should be.  Jill and I were already good at looking down our noses at all the other freshmen.  Since making the squad in the fall, we had immediately and exclusively hung out with the other cheerleaders.  Which, obviously, also meant we were better than the other peon freshmen.  We had made it to the top early, and had 4 full years to perfect our reign.

Walking through the mall, the lustful stares and gawking of the creepy old men and the other horny high school boys were not lost on me.  We giggled and flirted when appropriate, keeping our heads up and shoulders back, strutting like this was each of our own personal catwalk. 

We stopped by the food court and all got ice cream.  We gathered around the fountain, continuing our gossip fest.  The conversation turned to sex.  Until this school year, anytime I had heard the word “sex,” I had blushed uncontrollably.  But, I also had tamed my blush-reflex.  Plus, I had proudly cashed in my V card last fall at a party after one of the football games with a senior running back.  A few of the other girls had serious boyfriends, but neither Jill, nor I, did. 

“Hey, bitches,” Courtney hissed at us, “hot guys alert!”  She nodded her head behind us.

Of course we all turned to look which caused Courtney to whisper, “No!  Don’t look!”  And we quickly turned around, giggling.

“Ohmygawdheretheycome,” she gushed in one breath.  We all started fluffing our hair and checking each other’s make-up and teeth, as if on cue.

A group of tall, hot guys all came striding over.  We all made introductions around, and started making small talk.  Based on their letter jackets, they went to our rival high school.  And based on their patches, they were all varsity basketball players.  I tried to catch all the years on their jackets, and they mostly looked like 2007 and 2008.  Seniors and Juniors. 

Jill and I exchanged a giddy glance, but then went back to being chill.  I looked them all over, trying to figure out who my mark would be.  I spotted a super tall guy with a chiseled jaw and cutting eyes, brown hair combed to perfection.  To my 5’ 3” frame, he was definitely at least a foot taller than me.  He caught me checking him out and he moved behind a guy next to him over beside me. 

He gave me a cocky, half-smile and said, “I’m Luke.”

I blushed for the first time all school year and gave him my most coy smile, batting my eyelashes.  “Victoria.”

~~~~~~~June 2009~~~~~~~

“Ooh, Luke,” I moaned.  I was on all fours, on his bed, and he was railing me from behind: hands holding my hips to control the situation.  He slapped my ass and I slightly jumped, and I heard him chuckle.  I knew that there would be a hand print for about 10 minutes.

He grunted, and sighed, pulling out of me slowly.  He large cock flopping down.  He pulled the condom off and tossed it over into the trash can next to his bed.   He flopped back, naked, onto his bed, watching me wipe myself off with one of his dirty t-shirts.  “Thanks,” he muttered.  He had graduated earlier in the day, and this was my present to him.

I pulled my boy cut panties on, and my short, tattered jean shorts.  I went searching for my bra, throwing clothes around, with no help from Luke.  I reached blindly under his bed, and felt what I thought was a bra and pulled it out.  It was a bra, but not mine.

I stood up holding it up by the strap, completely grossed out.  I glared at Luke, raising an eyebrow at him.  He grinned and shrugged.  I threw it at his face, grabbed my shirt and pulled it on, my own bra forgotten.

“Fuck you,” I whispered at him.  His parents were in bed, and I was about to sneak out, without waking them.  It had become an art, really.

I quietly stormed out, knowing Luke wouldn’t come after me.  And also knowing I would be back the next night.

I snuck down a block to my car, and got in and left.  The 30 minute drive back to my house, I thought back to how we had come to this point.

After meeting in the mall, over a year ago, we had quickly become friends.  Our friendship was based on mutual need, though.  Luke was a junior, and the star basketball player for his school.  I needed help with Spanish, and Luke had taken four years.  I didn’t know what he needed until a couple months later, though.  Sex.

Our study dates quickly turned into study sexssions.  The first time hurt like hell.  I understood why he needed sex.  I was positive with his anaconda, no one would let him near them.  That was my justification, anyway.  He wasn’t gentle, but it got easier each time it happened.  I was sore and bled a lot, though, the first 6 or 7 times.

I naively thought that I was the only girl, at first.  Until I showed up at his house for a sexssion and walked into his room to find some whore sucking his dick.  I quickly found out who she was and she got a tire slashed for that.  Only one, though.  I wasn’t that mean.

We ended up at several of the same parties after that, and I would flaunt other guys in front of him, brazenly making out with them in front of him.  He didn’t seem to care. 

But after the third party we ran into each other, we fucked in the bathroom.  And fell back into our routine of studying and sexing twice a week.  Tuesdays and Saturdays.  However, I knew the truth this time. 

I knew what he was really like, and I wasn’t going to let my guard down again.  I knew our title.  Fuck Buddies.  Nothing more, nothing less.  But by the time his graduation was on the tip of our tongues, he had made it known to me that I was the only girl he was screwing (or so I thought), because he didn’t want to deal with drama of leaving other girls when he went to college.  He got a full ride somewhere for basketball and didn’t want some girl crying over him.

I realized, as I wiped the tears out of my eyes and parked in front of my parents’ house, that I had become that girl. 

I hated him.  I hated Luke.  I hated how he had used me.  I hated how he had physically hurt me.  And I hated how he had sex with other girls.  I hated how much I had fallen in love with him.