Oh, The Imperfection

Author: Ilze09

Summary: Jeice Barton's life was perfect. Popular. Athletic. Smart. Who would have thought one meeting with a male exotic dancer could change everything?

Rating: R

Warning: Contains strong homosexual content.




I hate summer break.

I know most high school kids practically kill themselves in the anticipation for the long-awaited break between school years, but I guess I'm not like most high school kids.

To me, summer breaks mean grueling football practice, too much free time, and not enough distractions from everyday life. I'd much rather just go to school year-round and finish the damn thing up rather than prolonging it with a three month break.

Oh, and it's too fucking hot!

Sweat slowly dribbles down my forehead as I lean my back against the metallic bench, panting heavily as I listen to a couple soccer moms who power-walk by me, jabbering on about the latest happenings of the inner city. Why is it that the only thing people ever concern themselves with is the negative news stemming for the nearest metropolitan complex?

I shake my head slowly as I pull the small hand towel from my pocket and dab my sweaty forehead, finally looking around at the pretty surroundings of the town park. It's surprisingly bleak, filled with only a few children playing idly on the playground and those damn chatter box soccer moms. What's the point of power-walking anyway? I mean, seriously!

After another deep breath, I climb to my feet and gently bounce on the ball of my feet. There's still another eight-hundred meters left in the trail around the park and because my laziness forced to take a breather, I've got to sprint the rest of the way.

Like I said, I'm not like most high school kids. I mean, how many high school kids spend their only free day of the week jogging around a little park? Especially after a grueling week of football practice.

Whatever, it's no concern to me how different I am. That's the last thought that runs through my mind before my calf muscles pulse and I take off sprinting down the concrete path. The wind pushes my sweaty blonde locks off my forehead and sends my gym shorts flapping against my legs. The sound of my sprinter shoes smacking against the pavement is the only thing that fills my ears as I ignore the growing pain in my lower abdomen, a sign that I need to consume more water in the future.

I can't help but smirk as I burst past the annoying soccer moms, listening to their shouts as I continue my dead sprint down the path. The black top of the parking lot is in my view, just a few more meters.

The pain in my abdomen grows fiercer as I grit my teeth, forcing my determination to push the pain out. The heat of the summertime air tries to push me back, force me away from achieving my goal. But nothing can stop me.

Finally, my feet smack against the black top of the parking lot and I slow my pace, finally coming to rest against my little red convertible. I lean against the old car, my breathing coming out in painful gasps as I once again feel the sweat dribbling down my forehead, coming dangerously close to my eyes. The hand towel stops the sweat from getting to close as my begin to catch my breath, one hand rubbing my cramped abdomen as I prepare to reach into the driver's seat of my car and get my water bottle.

However, a familiar sound stops me in back tracks.

"Jeice! My love!"

Instinctively, I turn around just in time to get slammed against the side of my car. I grunt as I feel the mirror dig into my back, but that feeling quickly takes a back seat to the feeling of someone nibbling on the tip of one of my toned pectorals.

My eyes open to look down at the blonde-haired beauty that has her arms wrapped around my waist and pearly white teeth grazing against my nipple. I blink before shaking my head and pushing the girl off, rubbing my now sore pectoral as I glare at the girl.

The girl smiles up at my broadly, a beautiful array of white teeth that just add to her 'girl next door' characteristics. She has curly blonde hair, that falls in furls around her shoulders, and gorgeous bright blue pupils. The girl is rather short, more than a head shorter than myself, with a obviously fake tan. Nonetheless, she's practically a pervert's wet dream in all her glory.

The blonde's cute smile quickly turns into an adorable pout as she crosses her arms over her chest like a child, looking nothing like a nearly 18-year old should, "Jeice, I'm hurt! Why would you push away my love?!"

"You're hurt?" I ask with a raised brow, dabbing the hand towel against my sweaty neck, "You were gnawing on my nipple, Lane. I'm the one hurt."

The girl's irresistible pout immediately changed into a cheerful grin as she nods her head, wagging a finger at me like a scolding mother, "Oh, come on. You of all people should know I only hurt out of love."

I can't help but chuckle as I quit wiping the sweat from my face and lean against the car, looking at the girl. Her name is Laney Taylor, and she's been my best friend since middle-school. We've been inseparable for all of our high school years, so much to the point of people thinking we're much more than friends.

Not that we haven't dated, of course. No, we were a couple for all of two months our freshman year. However, Laney isn't really my type of girl. She's a bit too much of a whore for me.

"Plus, you should know better, Jeice." Laney continued, crossing her tan arms over her pink t-shirt that was just small enough to show off her tanned and pierced naval. "You know that I'm hormone driven. Walking around all dripping in sweat is practically a written invitation to fuck."

I laugh, running a hand through my blonde hair as I nod slowly. Laney is definatly not shy about her open sex life. In other words, she's a whore, she knows she's a whore, and she loves being a whore. It's just another thing that makes Laney Laney.

"You have a point." I nod slowly before turning my attention back to my friend, "So, what brings Lane Taylor all the way to the park. This isn't exactly one of your pick up joints… unless you're lowering your standards even more and going for soccer moms and kindergarten kids."

"Please!" Laney threw her hand up with a huff. She slowly walked up to my car and seated herself on the hood, crossing her arms snobbishly over her busty chest. "I'm not a pedophile, Jeice. I turn eighteen soon, they're illegal now."

"And soccer moms?"

A smile crosses the girl's face and she shrugs, "Someone has to show them just how big of a mistake it is to settle down."

Once again, I laugh at the girl's attitude and smack my forehead. That's another mentionable feature of Laney's, she doesn't discriminate. I've never once heard the girl say whether or not she was straight, gay, or bi but I know I've seen her with males and females, sometimes even both.

"So, seriously, what brings you here, Lane?" I ask, growing more curious about the girl's presence.

Quickly, Laney jumps off the hood of my car and steps in front of me. Her face grows serious as she jabs a finger in my chest, glaring into my eyes angrily. She speaks through gritted white teeth, "You do realize what tomorrow is, right?"

I blink oddly, putting my hands up as I stammer, "Um… S-Saturday?"

The blonde sighs as she steps away from me, putting her hands behind her heads as she paces, "I can't believe you, Jeice. We've been friends for how long? Confessed our undying love for one another how many times? Pleasured each other how much?"

"Whoa, whoa." I shout, putting my hands up. "You're getting off topic."

Laney blinks before shrugging, "Oh, yeah. Sorry." The girl once again grows seriously as she turns to me, pointing an accusing finger in my face, "How could you forget my birthday tomorrow?!"

At that statement, it all clicks. I really had forgotten about Laney's eighteenth birthday. Who could blame me though, summer is a busy time for me. I'm fast approaching my senior year of high school and it's the time of the year where football takes precedence over everything else. It's not unacceptable to forget your best friend's birthday… is it?

Almost immediately, I go onto the defensive. One hand goes behind my head as I chuckle nervously, "What are you talking about, Lane? How could I forget your birthday? It's the big One-Eight! I wouldn't dream of forgetting."

Laney narrows her blue pupils at me, "You're a shit liar."

I sigh in defeat, "Fine, fine. I'm sorry, I did forget." The girl's face grows ready but I put hands on her shoulders, trying to calm the blonde, "Don't get mad, Laney! Just tell me what you want, it's your birthday! I'll do whatever you want!"

As soon as the statement leaves my lips, I feel regret grow in my stomach as Laney's anger dissolves, replaced by a look so evil I sweat Satan himself pissed his pants a little.

"That's just what I wanted to hear, Jeice." Laney said with a cheerful smile as she crossed her arms, looking at me as if she'd been planning this all along. "I'm glad you said it because you can't go back on your word now."

I sigh as I lean against my car again, pulling the water bottle out, "I would never go back on my word, Lane." However, nervousness is growing in my stomach now. "W… What do you want me to do?"

Laney chuckle as she puts a hand on my still-sweaty shoulder. She makes a face as he pulls away and wipes the sweat off on my shirt, "Just what any good friend would do for their best pal on her birthday." She snickers a bit as her eyes flash with another look of evilness, "Tomorrow, Jeice, you're going to go with my somewhere I've been wanting to go for a long time."

One of my eyebrows raises in confusion as I take a swig of water, beckoning her to continue.

The girl's smile grows wider as she finished, "Starr's."

It takes a moment for the name to click in my mind and almost immediately, I spew all the water out of my mouth. Laney quickly ducks the water as she laughs loudly, clapping her hands at my expression.

"S-Starr's? As in the bar?" I blink as she nods enthusiastically, "As in the male strip club?!"

"The one and only!"

"Laney, you can't be serious!" I shout as I feel my face going red. "That place is for chicks. Chick and gay guys. I'm neither!"

"That's what you think." I heard Laney mutter under her breath and I fume.

"You can't seriously expect me to go there." I say, leaning against my car again and crossing my arms, "… Right?"

"Nope." Laney says with a chuckle, "Come on, Jeice. It's my eighteenth birthday and summer is nearly over! It'll just be the two of us, no one else will know and I promise I won't tell anyone. Just think of it as us just going out… only this time we're going to a place with naked, dancing men."

"Laney…" I sigh as I rub my head in agony. Finally, I look up and my heart nearly melts at the sight of Laney's famous pouting face. Her eyes grow wide and teary and my answer almost immediately changed, "… fine."

That simple word is all it takes for Laney to shout jubilantly and spring forward, wrapping her arms around my sweaty body as shouts excitedly to me.

Her celebration lasts a whole ten minutes before she finally pulls away and turns to leave, "I'm so excited, Jeice! It's gonna be awesome! Meet me at my house tomorrow at eight, okay?"

I nod slowly before waving goodbye to my best friend. The girl runs across the parking lot and I see her hopping into her car as I also open the door to my own automobile and slide in. A defeated sigh escapes my lips as I turn the car on and pulls out of the park, heading home.

The drive back to my house only takes a few minutes and I hop out of my little red car. My house is in the better part of the neighborhood, the rich part. My father owns a chain of sports stores around the state and makes some pretty decent dough. Well, enough to be qualified as 'rich' in this little ass town.

I open the door to my Partridge Family-looking house and steps in, sighing happily as I feel the cool air brush against my skin, glad my mother enjoys keeping the air conditioning on.

"I'm home." I shout as I step in, cracking my neck as I step into the dining room and watch as my father looks up from the newspaper.

My father looks like an older, meaner, and bigger version of myself. He's well-built and tall with shortly-cropped, graying hair and equally colored eyes. His face is a bit wrinkled, showing the strains of his job, and seems to always be caught in a scowl. The man's eyes bore into me as he lays down the paper.

"Get your work out in?" I nod. "Cardio?" I nod. "Speed?" I nod. "Weights?" I nod." Good."

The man picks up his paper again and I turn to leave, my eyes lingering on the large glass case against the wall in the dining room. It's filled with various awards and medals from my father's high school and collegiate football career. He's practically a legend in my town, it's a tough shadow to live in.

I sigh as I head for the stairs and begin to climb up but I'm halted as I hear a shout from the dining room behind me.

"Jeice!" It's my father. "Coach Palmer called. He said you need to work on studying that passing tree more. Make sure you do. Quarterbacks aren't anything unless they know where they're throwing."

I nod slowly as I continue up the stairs and step into my room. It's small and bleak, I'm not much for decorating after all. After quickly changing out of my sweaty work out clothes, I sit down on the bed and yawn a bit. I stink and need to take a shower.

My mind slowly drifts back to my plans for tomorrow and I sigh in agony as I lay back on the bed, rubbing my head sadly.

An all male strip club… how many popular, high school football players go to all male strip clubs?

Then again, like I said earlier, I'm not like most high school students.

To Be Continued…