A/N: For Rogan-ofthe-Light, who wanted to see Vaughn and Yolanda in high school. :) Writing teenagers is hard (I couldn't do it even when I was a teenager), so forgive me.
"Oh my God, did you sleep with him?"
"Would you keep your voice down?" Yolanda hissed, twirling to face Becky. "The last thing I need is fucking Nina going around calling me a slut again."
"Fucking Nina," Becky said. It was a common phrase they shared.
"And I didn't sleep with him, no. Are you kidding me? He was totally wasted and gross."
"You're still coming to the party tomorrow night, right?"
Yolanda shrugged as she shoved her books in her locker. Her algebra textbook slipped out and landed with a resounding splat on the floor, and half the hallway turned to look at her. She frowned and bent to pick it up. She felt Becky yank down the edge of her skirt, saving her from exposing her underwear to a bunch of passing freshmen.
"Thanks," Yolanda said.
"Don't hike your skirt so high."
"But what if Jake is looking?"
"Yolanda, it's not going to happen with Jake. You need to get over it." Becky slapped her arm. "Are you coming to the party, Yolanda?"
"I don't know. Seems kind of lame."
Becky pouted, and Yolanda pouted back at her mockingly.
"It's not lame. Even if it is, I'm going to be too drunk to care."
The locker next to her clanged open, and Yolanda took two steps to the right to avoid it. She nearly snapped, but then she noticed who it was and put on her perkiest smile.
"Hi, Vaughn!" She sounded like a stupid tween girl, and she cursed herself for it.
Vaughn looked at her over his raised arm, eyebrows lifted. It took him a moment, but then he finally seemed to recognize her.
Yolanda nodded vigorously. "Are you going to the party at John's tomorrow?"
"There's going to be lots of free beer!" Becky exclaimed.
Yolanda wanted to roll her eyes at her friend. Of course there was going to be beer. As if Yolanda would be telling the school's most infamous bad boy about a slumber party.
"John? That tool?" Vaughn shook his head. "Nah, I got better places to be."
Vaughn stared at her a second, and Yolanda wondered if it was possible to orgasm from a look. She wouldn't really know. She'd had sex with a few boys, but they'd been mostly incompetent. She had a feeling Vaughn would know how to pleasure a woman though. He just had this way of moving and looking at people. She could stare at his mouth all day. Even if she really wanted to date Jake, she wanted to fuck Vaughn, and she'd admit that to anyone. Well, anyone who wasn't fucking Nina.
"Why, you wanna come?" Vaughn asked, a slight smile on his lips.
"Where is it?"
"Southside. One of my friends is throwing it."
"Can we come?" Yolanda blurted. She was always on the lookout for new ways to be cool, and attaching herself to Vaughn was like the fast track to bad girl infamy.
"I don't know." He gave Yolanda a once over, and she blushed. "I barely know you two."
"We're awesome. In case you wondered."
Vaughn chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah, okay, sure. I'll give you the address. That your locker?" he asked Yolanda.
"I'll slip the address in there by the end of the day." Hiking his backpack higher on his shoulders, he backed away. "See you then."
After Vaughn had vanished back into the crowd, Yolanda looked at Becky.
"We're so going to that party."
"I wanna go to John's party," Becky pouted.
"Screw John. This will be so much better."
"The people here are all, like, old," Becky whispered in Yolanda's ear when they pushed through the clump of people standing in the narrow foyer, smoking and drinking. The smoke made Yolanda's eyes water, but she smiled at them anyway, trying to look like she belonged. She already felt overdressed in her mini skirt and sleeveless top. Most of the women here were wearing jeans and T-shirts.
"They might be college kids," Yolanda replied.
"Not that guy." Becky pointed to a fat bearded guy with a receding hairline. "Oh my God, Yolanda, can we just leave? This is so weird."
"Not until I find Vaughn."
The house was not a Beverly Hills mansion, that was for sure. It was your typical old row house with no front lawn and a façade of mismatched bricks, squeezed between two neighbors with dirty awnings and a moldy roof. Inside it was even less impressive. The carpet was stained in places, and the linoleum in the kitchen was starting to come up from the floor. Becky whined about it, but Yolanda was thrilled. She'd been to a hundred boring parties hosted by teenagers with rich parents, but this was gritty and real. This was the true underbelly of the city, and now she had the chance to be a part of it.
"Hey, sweetheart," said some guy in his mid-twenties, leering at her drunkenly.
"Piss off," Becky snapped, shoving Yolanda out of the kitchen.
"Where's the beer?" Yolanda asked a passing girl.
The girl looked pretty stoned, but she answered, "On the back porch" before moving away.
On the back porch was where Yolanda found Vaughn talking to a skinny girl and some willowy Asian guy who seemed gay. Vaughn looked perfectly disheveled and indifferent to everything. He was the only person she knew who could make flannel look sexy.
"Hey, Yolanda," Vaughn greeted, jerking his chin at her. "I didn't think you'd come." He turned to Becky. "What is your name again?"
"Becky," Becky replied nervously.
"Right." He drew his weight off the railing and handed his beer to the gay guy. "Finish this for me, will you?"
"No problem," the man responded with a slight smirk.
"I'll be back. Give me a sec." He took several steps toward Yolanda, but faced Becky. "Becky, why don't you chill with Ben and Cynthia for a while? I wanna talk to Yolanda."
"Becky," Yolanda begged with pleading eyes, so Becky sighed and sank against the railing with a look of defeat. Yolanda turned to Vaughn with a grin, so he drew her off the porch and back into the house.
They never really talked.
Vaughn made an attempt, Yolanda would give him that. Most guys like him would have manhandled her around some, but Vaughn played it cool, almost like he didn't care. Yolanda was so used to pushy guys that the fact he was indifferent made him hotter. He didn't ask her to start unbuttoning his shirt once they got to the bedroom, but he didn't stop her either, and when she paused to wait for his approval, he nodded. So she slowly exposed his chest, and good Lord, he was perfect. She wanted to fuck him into next Tuesday.
After taking off his shirt, Yolanda coyly bit her lip and stood, slowly peeling off her top, hoping he appreciated the lacy red bra she'd worn in hopes she might be scoring some of this action. Other guys loved it, especially when she filled it out so nicely. Vaughn's expression was mostly neutral, though he gave her a mysterious smile when his eyes met hers. Seriously, he was looking at her face when her boobs were on display? This guy had self-control like no other.
She crawled into his lap, and then they were kissing. She had to grab one of his hands and put it on her breast because he wasn't groping her, which she thought was rather gentlemanly of him. His hand just briefly squeezed her before moving down and grabbing her ass. She liked that.
She treated him to another brief strip show until she was butt naked. She'd spent all of last night styling her crotch so that it didn't look like a Yeti, and she was glad that all of her hard work paid off. Yet Vaughn didn't spend much time looking at her. He merely grabbed her and pushed her onto the bed, positioning her on all fours so he could slide into her. Yolanda didn't mind, even if she would have liked to see what his dick looked like before he was shoving it in her. At least he had the foresight to wear a condom. Boys had given her shit about that sort of thing before, so it was nice that Vaughn was only an asshole in theory.
"Yes, oh yes!" Yolanda cried, not because she had to but because she thought it was something Vaughn might like to hear. She might have worried that it was taking so long—the other guys she'd slept with had no such endurance—but she couldn't bring herself to care, not when she found her own desire roaring up inside of her. It had never been like this! It had never lasted long enough.
Vaughn eventually did orgasm, and he did it before her. But Yolanda didn't care. She didn't expect it from one-night stands anyway, and Vaughn had been better than any guy before him, even her boyfriend from last year.
"You want some pot?" Vaughn asked afterward, slightly colder than before. Yolanda wanted to cuddle, but she had a feeling he might not like it.
"Do I have to pay for it?"
"I'll give you a discount," Vaughn replied with a laugh.
Yolanda bought some, and they smoked it together. She realized she might be a little bit in love with this guy, and for all the wrong reasons. He was not the type to take home and show her mother, but that was why she liked Vaughn. She wanted to feel dangerous and sexy, just like him.
After all, she wanted her chance to be young and stupid.
Three months later
"All you ever wanna do is hang out with your friends and get high," Yolanda muttered as she placed her sneakers on the dashboard of Vaughn's car.
"Guilty as charged." Vaughn lit a cigarette and inhaled briefly before spitting the smoke out of the side of his mouth and through the half-opened window. "All you wanna do is talk."
"We don't have to talk. We can just spend time together."
Vaughn sighed, his head thunking back against the headrest of his seat. "Like this?"
"Yeah, this is okay." It wasn't. Yolanda had never been in a relationship where she was the horny one. Considering their first time, she'd thought sex would be the easiest part. "We could have sex if you don't want to talk."
Vaughn didn't reply. He flicked his cigarette outside of the window before putting it in his mouth again. Yolanda hated how she was so attracted to him, even when she was pissed.
"You want to talk though," Vaughn said finally.
"I want to do something. I don't see you very often."
"I've been busy."
"Busy getting high with your friends."
"It's called networking," he said, then laughed.
"I've heard you're flunking."
Vaughn sobered, finally turning to look at her. "Why do you care?"
"Because I know you're smart, and you could do better things with your life."
Vaughn frowned. "What are you, my mother?"
"I just—ugh." Yolanda slouched back against the seat, picking at her frayed cut-off shorts. "I'm just pissed, cuz I have to study my ass off all the time. I'd kill for your natural intelligence, and you just throw it all away like it's whatever."
"Why study your ass off? If I were a woman, I'd just flunk out and marry some old rich dude. You give him a few blowjobs a week and go on a vacation to the Cayman Islands every month. Sounds like a good deal."
"I don't even like blow jobs that much," Yolanda muttered, rubbing her arm. She'd tried doing it with Vaughn, but she hadn't been very good at it, and twice he'd told her to stop before she finished.
Vaughn didn't say anything.
"Do you think you could eat out an old rich lady every week?"
"For trips to the Cayman Islands? Maybe."
"What can I say, I'm lazy. Sex is easier than work."
"Then how come we don't have sex that much anymore?"
Vaughn sighed. "Yolanda, you know that you're not the only one I see, right?"
She knew it, but it hurt. A lot. She wanted to be the only one. She wanted to be his and she wanted him to be hers. She figured this was how it was with bad boys, but that didn't make it any easier. It also drove her crazy, wondering what other girls he was fucking. Were they prettier than her? Did they have bigger tits? Maybe they were rich—he spoke so highly of rich people.
"What's wrong with me then?"
"Yolanda, it's not you."
"It has to be."
Vaughn looked slightly apologetic. "It's not, okay? I'm just . . . going through some things right now. A girlfriend is the last thing I need."
There was a long silence as Yolanda peered out the windshield, biting her lower lip. Finally she took a breath and turned back to him.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this anymore," she whispered softly. "I just—I just need more than this."
Vaughn's only reaction was to suck on his cigarette and narrow his eyes. But finally he exhaled a large plume of smoke and nodded. "You're probably right." He seemed sincere when he said, "I'm sorry. It's not you."
Yolanda wondered if she was going to cry. She knew a lot of guys who would treat her better and show more interest, but she had such high hopes for Vaughn. She had conjured elaborate fantasies where she convinced him to change his ways, to stop smoking so much pot and skipping school to hang out with his shady friends. Then he'd be loyal to her and he'd use that magnificent brain of his to get into a top school—CMU, maybe—and then they'd get married. It was ridiculous, of course, but she still allowed herself some silly fantasies. It was nicer to dream than it was to face reality.
"Can we just go one more time?" Yolanda asked. "Please?"
Vaughn flicked his cigarette out of his car. "Yeah, okay."
Yolanda crawled into his lap, already undoing his fly. She had to maneuver herself around to get her shorts and leggings off, but once she did, it was so nice to feel him inside her, hot and thick. When they did this, she could forget about everything else. She didn't let herself dwell on the inevitable end. She closed her eyes and only thought about the feeling of it, the stretch and pull, the pure pleasure of connection. Tonight he was hers, and that's all that mattered.