Bad Virgin

“Watch.” A devious grin crossed my face. “Mr. Thorne is taking a piss—I’m going to embarrass him when he comes out.”

“How?” She blinked a couple of times. “Are you sure you really want to fuck with him again? You already sent out that auto-tuned video of him eating a sandwich to the whole school.”

“This will be even better. Get your cell phone out and start recording.” I winked at her and positioned myself by the door.

Mr. Thorne was an easy target. He was the principal of Grantham University, which wasn’t exactly a prestigious position. We all knew that he was just a pansy who wouldn’t stick up for himself, which was why he had been there for so long. He was the first principal to last more than one school year, so that meant he was the lowest man on the totem pole. I loved embarrassing him, watching him squirm, and generally knowing I was better

than him. I waited until he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. He looked around the hallway for a moment, and then I struck.

I stepped up behind him, hit my knees, and latched onto his belt. He spun around in shock for a moment, but before he could react, I had yanked his belt over his thighs and pulled his pants straight down to his ankles. His boxers rode them halfway down his ass, and by the time he realized what was happening, everyone was laughing hysterically. He took a step forward, got tangled in his pants, and stumbled. His face flushed red as he reached down and desperately tried to pull his pants back up. Bending over exposed more of his pale, white ass and that brought another roar from the group. I stood up, took a bow, and headed towards my next class while he tried to put himself back together again.

Chapter 3: Anton

“I fucking quit!” My brother slammed the front door as he walked into his house and immediately walked over to the liquor cabinet. He didn’t bother with a glass, he just started drinking whiskey straight from the bottle.

“What?” I leaned up from my sitting position on the couch. “What happened?”

“Those fucking kids.” He took a large gulp of whiskey. “They’re nothing but a bunch of assholes. I’d rather go dig ditches than deal with their shit.”

“Are you making up for lost time with profanity, bro? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse this much.” I walked into the kitchen and got a beer out of the fridge.

“The school board doesn’t care. The teachers can’t do anything with them. I would need armed guards in the hallways to deal with half the shit they do. I’m done. I can’t take this anymore.” He walked over and sat down on the couch as I walked back into the room.

“It sounds like a shitty situation altogether.” I joined him on the couch.

“Today some stupid bitch pulled down my pants when I walked out of the bathroom. Could I do anything about it? Hell no. I can’t lay a hand on them. I can’t even suspend them. If I even raise my voice, I have a parent show up and threaten my job. Well fuck the job—if they want it, they can have it.” He guzzled more of the whiskey.

My brother continued drinking until he was an absolute mess and could barely stumble down the hall to his room. I felt bad seeing him that way. I was one day removed from prison and I had my shit together better than he did.

I crashed on the couch and the next day, he didn’t get out of bed. The hangover was definitely hitting him, but he also seemed incredibly depressed when I tried to talk to him. I sat on the couch and thought about his predicament, wondering how a man with such a bright future had let the world burn out the light in his eyes.

Part of that was my fault. I might not have been the only person fucking his wife, but it was a betrayal that I regretted. She could have calmed his nerves and said things that made him get out of bed—I couldn’t.

Around lunchtime, I decided that I had to do something about his situation. I might have been a shitty brother, but I was the only one he had. I took some money out his wallet and headed into town to get a haircut and a shave. I returned to find him still in bed, but I finally coaxed him into the kitchen for some food.

“Nice haircut.” He blinked a couple of times. “I haven’t seen you that cleaned up since middle school.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “It was time for a change.”

“I need a drink.” He walked to his liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of whiskey.

“What did you tell the school when you called?” I fixed two sandwiches and pushed one over to him. “Did you quit?”

“No.” He shook his head and sipped the whiskey. “I almost did, but I decided to just sleep on it instead. I told them I was sick.”

“Good.” I nodded. “How are you feeling now? Are you ready to go back tomorrow?”

“Fuck no.” He shook his head back and forth. “I’m probably going to call in sick tomorrow too. Maybe I’ll just call in sick until they fire me.”

“I got another idea...” I smiled and sat down at the table.

“I’m not getting caught up in another one of your schemes. I don’t need more problems than I already have.” He sat down at the table and chased the first bite of his sandwich with a gulp of whiskey.

“Hear me out.” I put my sandwich down and looked over at him. “You need a break—call it a vacation, even.”

“I get that every summer, but it’s never long enough.” He lifted the bottle again.

“Hold up.” I reached over and took the bottle. “I need you sober long enough to hear what I have to say.”