Book by Its Cover

Fandom: Popular

Series: Three Times Table

Title: Book by Its Cover - April

Author: Carla

*** See the first part for the usual platitudes and disclaimers ***

Additionally song lyrics, correctly or incorrectly, quoted are not mine. That honor belongs to Michael Stipe and REM.

Enjoy

Just last night May asked me if it was worth it, worth getting grounded for. And it was, a whole weekend with you, no parents, well except for your mother who we were visiting, no sisters no one but us. It was so worth it. Of course now you’re persona non grata as far as my parents are concerned. They know better than to forbid me to see you but I think it would be better if you stayed off the radar for the time being. So here I am at the mall, a place I detest except for the movie theater, the bookstore and Wizards Wild, waiting for you.

I have this feeling I am being watched and when I look up from my book I see you and Sam headed towards me.

“Hey April”

“Hey Sam”

“Later Brooke,” Sam continues on her way not even waiting for you to answer, though if I’m not mistaken she’s completely ceased to exist for you at the moment. You pull me into a bear hug, bury your face in my hair and inhale deeply. You are very much attuned to scent needless to say aromatherapy candles are always an appropriate gift with you.

“God I missed you.”

“Me too.”

My arms are around your waist, one hand splayed in the curve of your lower back, the other tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck. Your mouth is on mine your lips are soft and your tongue is silk and I’m home. And I know that this, you and me, this will always be worth it, worth whatever punishment my parents dish out. You are worth it.

Some guy wolf-whistles at us and when I step away from you and take a bow you laugh.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Dork,” you say laughingly.

“Excuse me,” I try my very best to get the haughty tone Satan, I mean Nicole, gets whenever she’s forced to interact with me without your presence as a buffer. “I do believe my unofficial ‘official title’ is Queen of the Geeks.”

“Dork.”

I shrug my backpack on - “Ah but I’m your dork” – and hold out my hand. You lace our fingers together and say, “Yes you are”, in that soft voice that just makes me melt. Looking down at your hand in mine the differences between us are starkly apparent. Your hands are soft, nails perfectly manicured and polished. Mine are rough or at least not as soft as yours. I have on black polish that’s chipped really badly on my thumb, no surprise there since I’ve pretty much also managed to chew the nail down quite a bit, a nervous habit that drives you nuts and one I am trying to stop.

We start walking in the same direction Sam went in and when we pass the Barnes and Noble you say something about Sam meeting someone there and I can tell that you really want to go in and sneak a peek at just who it is that Sam is meeting. I wish I had the relationship you have with Sam with May. She’s my twin and I love her but sometimes, no most of the time, she annoys me. Mostly it’s because I feel like she’s living vicariously through me. Does that make sense?

“I wish May and I had the kind of relationship you and Sam have?”

“I thought you two got along.”

“We do it’s just…Sam has her own life you see. She’s not trying to somehow live through yours….”

“May’s been bugging you again huh?” You rub your thumb across the back of my hand in a soothing motion.

“Nah not really. She was just asking questions, you know, was it worth it being grounded for a month, that sort of thing.”

“And was it?” You stop short, tugging my arm slightly so that I turn to face you. “Was it?” you ask again but this time with your free hand you brush the hair out of my face, away from my eyes. Our gazes lock and I can feel everything narrowing down to just you and me, that cocoon that seems to envelope us when we are together so that even when we are with other people it still feels like it’s just us.

“Yes. Of course it was. I loved meeting your mom.” We drove to SF and stayed with your mom and her lover, a photographer whose work she carries at her gallery. I step closer to you and lower my voice, “You know I loved waking up next to you.” Now I drop your hand so that I can put my arms around your neck and draw you down slightly so that my lips brush your ear, “And you know I loved making love to you on that huge bed.” Your mom has a California king size in the guest bedroom. We’d used every inch of it by the time we left the following Monday morning. Nipping at your earlobe yields that low sexy growl that never fails to hit me in the stomach and other areas south of the border.

“God I want you right now,” you say as you nuzzle my cheek. Your hands around my waist begin to slightly knead at the swell of my hips, or where my hips would be if I had any to speak of.

“Me too.”

“Get a room!” Sam calls cheerfully as she and that guy who used to teach tennis walk by.

“I can’t,” you answer, “You know Daddy took my credit cards.” I got grounded literally and you got it financially.

We fall into step with Sam and her date. I thought Sam didn’t date. But then again Leo Ferrara can really only be described as a tall cool drink of water. Sam introduces us and when Leo smiles both of us start to giggle like pre-teen schoolgirls. God I remember when he taught tennis, May and I would have tagged teamed him in a heartbeat.

“What are you two up to?” I ask Sam.

“Going for a ride on Leo’s bike.” That would explain the altogether yummy outfit. The two of you, in almost identical outfits, his jeans are blue yours are black, are obscenely hot, pornographically so. God knows I’d pay to watch that video.

“Don’t let Mom find out Sam, she’ll have a heart attack for sure.”

“Good thing you know how to keep a secret,” Sam says then turns to me and winks, “Right April.”

Just then the window display catches your eye and with a yank on my arm and a hastily tossed farewell to Sam and Leo you drag me into Abercrombie and Fitch. As a general rule I despise shopping for anything that isn’t a book or something for my computer but shopping with you is fun. You stopped trying to get me to shop for clothes a long time ago. And I’ve learned to stop bitching and moaning and just enjoy the fashion show that inevitably is the mall experience with you. Sometimes you pick things out that you want me to try on and though I might protest the Borg Queen put it best: Resistance is Futile. Besides it’s a small thing and it makes you happy. And that makes me very happy.

It appears that today is one of those days when you are using shopping as a means of sublimation. This means I will be spending a lot of time trying on new clothes or so I think until you shove me up against the dressing room door. You lick the side of my neck then suddenly bite down. Our moans fill the little dressing room. I’m sure someone can hear us which just makes it more exciting. I reverse our positions your head hits the door with a small thud. You gasp when my hands slide under your shirt. I gasp to find that you aren’t wearing a bra. I push your shirt up and you start to fumble with the button on my jeans.

“No…wait,” I place your hands above your head, holding them against the door with my left while my right slides up your thigh and under the mini skirt you’re wearing. You whimper and your hips jerk forward slightly when I begin to trace the edge of your panties. I lick my way across your collarbone before dipping my head down to take your nipple in my mouth.

A strangled, “God”, escapes your throat. Your back arches pushing more of you into my mouth and I suck harder. “April!” you hiss when I bite down on your rock hard nipple. Meanwhile my fingers continue to tease you through the thin silk of your panties. Your panties are soaked thru with your arousal and the need to taste you, smell you, is so overwhelming my knees buckle slightly. I kiss my way down your torso tracing the outline of your six-pack with my tongue before plunging it into your navel. “Oh God baby please,” you roll your hips forward urging me down further south where you want me.

There’s a sharp rap on the door, which we ignore, followed by, “Do you ladies need anything?”

Uh nope no help needed here thank you I think I have a handle on things. Your, “No we’re fine”, is breathless enough to be rather unconvincing because the clerk doesn’t go away.

“Okay,” she says tentatively, “If you need….”

By now I’ve pulled your skirt off, my tongue is the tracing the outline of your sex tasting your arousal through the tiny scrap of silk you call panties. I must look like a supplicant at the altar, which is just fine with me…you are a goddess, my Goddess and I am delighted to worship. You taste so good, slightly salty, like the sea but not unpleasantly so.

“Thank you.” It comes out sort of strangled though and this does nothing to reassure our would be rescuer who clearly is still listening on the other side of the door. Your grip on my hair becomes especially painful when I finally nudge your clit with the tip of my tongue. “Yes, God yes.”

Another knock followed by a whispered, “FYI these rooms are monitored” – SHIT – “security….”

Wrenching myself away from you is an act of supreme sacrifice and frustration but ‘clerk girl’ has said the magic words ‘monitor’ and ‘security’. My free peep show days are over thank you very much. If some horny security guard wants to watch two girls get it on he can pay for his porn like everyone else. Speed Racer has nothing on us as we straighten ourselves up and try not to look like we were just having sex. We beat a hasty retreat out of the store, too embarrassed to make eye contact with any of the staff as we do so.

Once back in the mall itself you pull me to the side. “Sweetheart I’m sorry,” you say reaching out to brush the hair away from my face. You kiss my cheek before drawing me into a bear hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t…I wasn’t thinking….”

“Don’t, we didn’t know okay, its okay.”

“You…”

“It’s okay really. The level of sexual frustration I am feeling right now isn’t okay but everything else is…I promise.”

“God this sucks. I want to touch you so bad Baby.” This last whispered in my ear makes me whimper and shiver with need. “I want your mouth on me, your fingers inside me….”

“Me too…I want that too.”

“Jane and Daddy are home.”

“My parents, May…”

“I know, I know. I can’t believe Daddy won’t let me have my credit cards back yet. We could get a room.”

I’m getting ready to suggest we get one anyway. I can get cash from the bank. So what if Mom and Dad kill me when they find out I took money from my college account. I’m so horny and desperate to touch you it would be worth it.

“Brookie!”

Great Satan and the Psychotic, just what I need.

“Brooke, Flounder.”

‘Nic!”

“I meant Tuna.”

“Nicole….”

“Sorry, April.”

“We were just getting ready to go back to Nic’s place. We’ve been shopping,” she says proudly, though not intelligibly, damn overblown Southern accent. If she wasn’t holding the bags with their purchases aloft I don’t know that I would have understood any of what she just said.

“I see. What did you get?”

“Why don’t you come to Nic’s and you can see for yourself. They were having the most amazing sale at….”

The four of us begin walking to the exit that leads to the parking lot, you and I hand in hand next to Mary Cherry, who’s still talking a mile a minute, Nicole a step or two behind us. As luck would have it we see Sam and Leo getting on Leo’s bike when we get to the parking lot. Nicole, I notice, is staring at Sam like she’s an 18 ounce Porterhouse and she hasn’t eaten in forever. That’s a new development. She’s still crazy about you, that much is obvious when she looks at you, but she’s starting to look elsewhere it would seem.

“Definitely nice eye candy isn’t it?”

Nicole nods her agreement then stares at me.

“Tell me you and I didn’t just agree on something Tuna.”

“It’s the end of the world as we know it,” I say quoting REM.

“Let me assure you: I don’t feel fine.”