2: A Free Ticket To Be Bestie's Dad's Whore

‘Fucking shit!’

With my pussy halfway down the big cucumber and my mum’s shocked eyes on me, my body freezes, except my slutty cunt squeezing tighter around the width.

‘What the actual fuck?!’

“Isla.”

She mumbles, finding her voice, with her mouth wide.

My brain spirals in shameful panic. I drag my skirt down to shield my mess and stand up, pulling the cucumber out of my wetness. It drops, coated with my thick precum. The green fruit is now a mix of filth and vanity.

“Uh…” I stutter.

Following the rush of adrenaline, I kick it under the table and stand before her, breathing heavily.

With my mum, I know grounding me with no phone and sex toys is the next card she’d play, but I’d gladly accept if she doesn't make a scene out of this.

She shuts the door and walks in. Each step towards me causes me to panic. My heart is literally jumping. Oddly, her eyes are soft, not the hard blue I’m used to whenever she is pissed, or the incessant cussing.

“Isla.”

Her tone softens to a murmur.

It's fucking weird.

Next, she reaches for my shoulders.

‘Is she going to squeeze me to death or kill me…’

Instead, she massages softly.

“I can't possibly know how much you’re going through with such a high libido.” She tilts my chin. “And I'm so sorry I yelled at you.”

“Mum…”

Her index finger to my lips stops me from voicing my surprise.

“I only want the best for you…” She cups my cheek.

Whenever she says that, I know it's the opposite.

“I’ve sent words to Mother Superior, she is granting you an interview tomorrow. And—” She holds up my frozen chin. “Dr. Pam has fixed us in her tight schedule…”

I pull backward, letting her hand drop. “It was supposed to be after the result… You said that.” I stutter.

“True, honey.” She steps forward, gently. “But this…” Her eyes are filled with disdain when she looks down at my puddle of precum.

Crap.

I don't trust my insecurity with anyone. I can already imagine Dr. Pam sounding her trumpet to everyone in Boston who cares to listen.

“I'm not seeing any therapist,” I argue. “I'm okay…”

“You’re not.” She says firmly.

I suppress a hysterical laugh and nod. “You’re right, mum.” I sniffle. “If you don't keep locking me up and guarding me like I'm a baby, maybe I’d have a normal life.”

‘Dad won't see me as some demon.’ I stop before I can pull the ‘daddy’s card’ She hates that I bond so well with my insane father.

“What's normal life than reading and getting scholarships like Nia?” Her eyes are getting dark.

Now, this makes me snap.

It's always me against Nia.

And when she’s out of the equation, I'm always the bad guy. Never good enough for her image.

I shrug, done. “Maybe you should adopt her. Or better still fuck her dad and get a better child…”

Smack!

Her palm crosses my cheek in a resounding slap. The next second, her hand is shaky as if she regrets her decision. Her lips quiver as she murmurs an apology.

Too late, I storm out of the kitchen.

“Isla…”

I block her hurt voice.

My heavy footsteps cause Nia and her dad to spin in my direction. They halt their conversations and their merry smiles freeze up.

“Issi?” Nia stands up to run after me, and so does her dad. “Wait…”

“Isla!” He calls loudly.

But I don't stop. I keep running, vision blurry with tears.

My mum’s faint voice is heard as she cries in the background. I let them be the happy family she desires.

*** ***

Three hours. Or four?

I can't tell how long I've been away from home, but right now, I’m freezing by a creek. My thin fabric can't shield the frost from my delicate white skin. I’m slowly turning to paper white.

My harsh reality eats me deep, more than the cold. I hate that my mum always wins, because even with my stubbornness, I’ll still get shipped on the train heading to St. Dymphnia’s Cloister, first thing tomorrow morning.

The cool rocks soak into my skirt, leaving my knees shaking. Surprisingly, a thick fur coat drops on my shoulder. The familiar floral scent makes me know it's Nia. This place was our hideout during our teenage years. Once, I made her rebellious, and it’s her only weird record.

She sits beside me.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She whispers.

“No.” I fold around my ankles.

I guess this is the good side of having a conservative mum. She doesn't go about spilling your dirty secrets.

We remain silent and just listen to the chirping birds and squeaking insects.

“I may end up in the Convent.” I sob silently.

“What?” She adjusts to face me. “How about college, the life we planned?”

I sniff. “I doubt I’ll pass. Mum is right after all.”

“No.” She grabs my shoulder. “Then we try again.”

“You don't get it. It's the last school offering a fully-funded scholarship and I might have messed it up.”

She sighs. “You can go to any school in the world… Let me help.” She stops me from arguing. “Dad is filthy rich, he won't mind.”

“And my mum hates when things are handed to me.” I shrug. “I have to earn it.”

‘Except I fuck your dad for it.’ I let it die in my head.

Nia breathes loudly and turns to face the brook. Oddly, she stands up and starts gathering tiny rocks. Then she sits next to me.

“Here,” she pushes a bunch of it to me but I don't take it.

She picks one and throws it in the water. It splashes and forms ripples. It was our stress relief. I can't suppress the urge to participate in the addictive chore, so I pick up a rock and throw.

Then another. And another.

“How about Prime-Prep in Lombardy?” Nia asks out of the blue.

I pause. “Isn't that in Italy?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “Before you ramble about the flight ticket, it's an all-expense-paid scholarship. Down to the tuition.”

Wow.

“Even worse,” I laugh. “I'm never gon make it. Their requirement must be damn high.”

“True.” She throws the last rock. “Which is why I’m fixing you on the last slot for the camp school at New Orleans. It starts next week.” She turns to face me. “Dad is one of the anchors, he calls it community service to his hometown.” She chuckles.

I force a smile. I can feel goosebumps crawl along my skin, and it's not from the cold.

“Well, they need students with good academic records. I barely attend classes.”

At least, that’s one of my vices I couldn’t hide from Nia.

“Jesus, Isie.” She smacks my knee. “Did you miss the part where I said my dad is an anchor?” She rolls her eyes at me when I gasp, suddenly understanding her point. “Hmm-hmm.”

After the talk with Nia and her offering to sneak my name into her dad’s file, I go home, relieved. The only sad thing is that the camp school is in New Orleans and for a month. It starts in a week and spans for one month. After that, I’ll write the scholarship exam at Prime-Prep, Lombardy.

It's also exactly one month until I’m trapped in the Cathedral.

‘Sir Enzo Macini,’ I recite as I stroll down our pebbled walkway. ‘My life is in your hands.’

The door opens before I can knock, and Mum pulls me in a bear hug. She sobs softly and kisses me all over. I feel terrible seeing her in this state.

“You should be at work.”

She shakes her head. “I should be here with you.” Then she pulls me inside. “I made your favorite. Go freshen up, then come downstairs.”

I gulp dryly. “Mum, I’m sor–”

“Shhh,” she stops me. “I’ll heat it up. Hurry.” She laughs.

I rush over a quick shower and well-seasoned lobster and corn. She tries to avoid the ugly event at Nia’s house. Hours later, I retire to bed. But I can't sleep. I'm not sure how to break the camp school news to my mum.

There’s a gentle tap on my door. It opens and my mum pops her head in.

“Honey, can we talk?”

I sit upright, giving her the go-ahead. She walks in, dressed in her thick black robe. Then she sits on the edge of my bed.

“Hun,” she holds my hand and squeezes. “Please, go for the interview. It's just going to be a conversation, she won't restrain you.”

To her surprise, I nod.

Her brows raise. “You will?”

Again, I nod.

“Oh, my baby.” She flings me in a tight hug. “I knew you’d make mama proud.”

I force a smile, my hands are shaky around her. “I enrolled in Study Lab Camp School.” My lips tremble.

She stops and pulls away so she can look at me.

“It's for a month, just before I go to the convent. And I found this all-expense paid scholarship at Lombady.”

She doesn't look happy, but she doesn't argue.

“But— the camp school is at New Orleans. I will stay with Dad.”

Her countenance drops.

She said they were high school sweethearts, but my dad wasn't one to stick his cock in one pussy, so he went on his adventure to breed everything under skirt, and mama chose her peace. I guess I took his ‘fucking’ gene. She didn't snatch me away from him though but she barely allows me around him.

“Isla—”

“It's the only way I’ll go for the interview.” I hurriedly cut in, heart pounding in my chest.