Not What You Need

Crescent High Boarding School; the only institution in Mumbai built for the elite.

It's where parties take priority over study sessions. Money speaks louder than morals. Every weekend becomes a parade of intoxication no one ever really remembers. A never ending stream of alcohol is more often than not filled with heavy clouds of smoke. As long as students produce the highest results, no one bothers to complain. And they do, once they put every immoral tactic to use. The school could very well be synonymous with deceit and debauchery.

At least it did until an unwanted stranger barged in, akin to an unpredictable storm.

A round of raucous scoffs had erupted the second our Mathematics teacher introduced her as the only student in Grade 12 to have entered on an unprecedented scholarship. After all, the idea of Crescent High offering scholarships to commoners, and granting them no less, was nothing short of bizarre.

"Students, I'd like you to give a warm welcome to Veronica Sampat." Nikita Jaiswal had introduced her with a sympathetic smile, perhaps telepathically trying to warn her of all the miseries that lay ahead.

I wouldn't have blamed her. Our teacher had faced a similar fate when she joined this school two years ago. Crescent High wasn't for the non-nepotistic kind. The sooner they understood, the easier their lives would be. New girl had clearly been in luck.

From the second last row of the lecture theater, I'd noticed her brace her steps amidst a series of prejudiced whispers, completely unfazed by their sneering gazes. Her hands had tucked deep in the pockets of black sweats, paired with a fitted maroon turtleneck that left almost everything to imagination. Her jet black hair could not have been tied tighter in a ponytail, not a single strand astray as they ended near the small of her back. Her brown eyes had scanned across the rows of seats, before finding an empty one on the far end of the room; diagonally left to me. She'd unloaded her backpack, laid out a notebook and had placed a single pen adjacent to it on the desk in front of her. Her gaze had swiftly turned to the watch on her left hand before reverting her focus to Ms. Jaiswal. Not once had her gaze wavered. I'd doubted she even moved an inch.

That's how Veronica Sampat spent her first hour. Silent and expressionless.

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"Shh. Not a sound." I order, covering her mouth with my hand as I thrust into her.

Her eyes roll back, eliciting another muffled cry. Sophia's hands grip my shoulders at the roughness and I keep mine fixated on the skin underneath her skirt. Her moans fill the space between us as I drive deeper into her against the wall behind the Science building. We only have a few minutes before classes end. Within seconds, her insides clench, telling me she's close. It takes one more thrust for her to fall apart, two more strokes before I come.

I lower her skirt as she unwraps her legs from my waist. "Oh, Rye. That was..."

Ridding myself of the condom and buttoning my pants, I respond with a self-assured smirk. "I know, babe."

I swipe one finger across her post-orgasmic smile. "See you after class."

"Your place or mine?"

After running one nonchalant hand through my hair, I fix my black hoodie in place. "Always yours."

"Okay, I'll wait for you." A blush tinges her face and she gently pecks me on the cheek before scampering back to her class. She's hoping she'll last longer than a week. I doubt it'll go beyond a few days. My experience with sex has no caveat for love. I don't do more. I never did, and I don't intend to start now.

I make my way to the school cafeteria to occupy the table reserved for our group. I've barely stepped through the doors when my best friend, Akash, calls out. "Dude, where were you?"