At that time, puberty hadn’t kicked in yet, so I was more than satisfied to crush on her from afar. And being Logan’s best friend allowed me to get close to her without suspicion. I fell into a comfortable grove – I figured out that she could lift my mood on bad days by just watching her. Ordinarily, I became rather good at observing her. I learned to read her like a book.
And to keep me on the right path I made up some rules, and now and then I added a new one as needed. Most of them come from the many different martial arts classes I took over the years, the rest I made up along the way.
The rules keep me in control – they give me a sense of security, something I can control in my hectic broken life … a way to keep my hellish friends at ease.
Rule 1: Never ever fall in love with your best friend’s sister – The start and I suppose the reason for my rules. And it might just be the most important one on the list. The one rule I never should break even though it has been broken from the start.
Rule 2: Never lose control – Very important for a guy who lives on the edge like I do – I can’t afford to lose control in any part of my life or I might just fall over that edge. To do so, I use guided imagery, a meditation technique where you visualize positive, peaceful scenarios to promote a calmer state of mind and take charge of it. Or if that doesn’t work, I have my three foolproof ways – take my frustration out on a punching bag (or a fight); have sex; or ride my bike.
Rule 3: Fight to win – Whatever I do, I try my best to win … I fight for that first place … especially in racing. Some call my maneuvers and stunts wild and reckless, but that’s not how I see it – I own that track and don’t go out there to lose.
Rule 4: Show no fear – If you want to have control in your life, you can’t show fear … not in a race, not in a fight, and certainly not in life.
Rule 5: Never start a fight – Count to 10 or take a walk. No matter how mad I get, I’ll never throw the first punch. But after the first punch is served, rule 3 applies.
Rule 6: Fuck and leave – My space is my own, so I never ever bring a girl home. I’ll find a spot to fuck and then immediately after, I’m gone. No hanging around, no sleeping over, no cuddling. It may sound harsh, but I always tell the girl before we start, so it’s her choice. Yes, some complain a bit, but it makes life so much easier – no awkward moments, no facing the girl for breakfast, trying to remember her name.
Rule 7: No condom, no sex – This one is very important to me. Unfortunately, with the money and fame comes the craziness. Women will try anything to hook a guy like me, trying to get themselves pregnant in any manner they can. It’s true. I have personally witnessed girls trying to steal used condoms, or spitting cum from their mouths into a container. So rather safe than sorry – I always use my own condom and discard it safely myself, and I never blow off in someone’s mouth. I’m not planning to be some chic’s baby-daddy anytime soon.
Rule 8: Don’t get caught (with your pants on your knees) – This is a tricky one … the press is everywhere and can’t be avoided. But when I’m going to the boneyard, I take extra precautions not to get caught on camera – I never make out in public places; I always lock the doors; I do a thorough walk-through of the room to check for hidden cameras; and I always trust my gut.
That brings us to the next one –
Rule 9: Trust your gut – If something doesn’t feel right … it usually isn’t.
Rule 10: Exercise and stay healthy – Not only does exercise help to keep me calm, but it also helps me win races, is good for my body, and is something I can control.
As time went by, and my hormones started to kick in, it became more and more difficult to ignore my feelings. And I slipped up.
I dragged Mel with me to the boardwalk. Being with her felt so right, it was just amazing – one of the best times on a very very bad day. She made me feel brave … strong enough to face anything.
However, after I dropped her off, the shadows appeared from their hiding spots. I got scared shitless – frightened of the control she had over me; like a fucking voodoo doll. I realized that if she stuck a needle in the doll’s heart, I’d never recover. And coward what I was, I didn’t want to risk it.
Not to mention that I’ll have to break my rules, the only thing that keeps me in line, the only thing that keeps me from falling down the rabbit hole. They’re my lifeline when she’s not around.
So, I made a dick move, making sure that she saw me kissing some random girl at school the next day. I regained control, but the hurt in her eyes would become another demon in the darkness of my mind. Another guilt-driven burden to place on the ever-growing heap, and I promised myself never to go near her again.
Later I learned that sex – at least for a few moments – was a perfect substitute for Mel in keeping those demons down. It was not perfect, but better than nothing. I started seriously screwing around, partly to rip her from under my skin and partly to try and keep sane. I fucked any willing brunette – never a blonde like her. And never a girl with blue eyes. But for some reason, each girl I slept with only seemed to expand the spell she has over me; to increase my longing for her. It became a vicious cycle.
But I managed to keep my promise and kept my distance until my Sophomore year, 1 March – the worst day in my year. After putting pink roses on the steps of the haunted house, I let my emotions numb my mind, kidnapped Mel from her room, and we slipped into the zoo. I was overwhelmed, distraught, sad, guilt-ridden … not that it’s an excuse … it’s not.
Again, we had the best night ever and this time I was not going to back down … I was going to tell her how I feel.
But when I dropped her off, Jackson saw me. The devil almost killed me, but he also managed to hit some sense into me. I realized Mel is an angel. Innocent. Pure. Special. I could not corrupt her with my darkness. So for a second time, I broke her heart.
I never went near her like that again. I continued my spying from a distance again. I continued to selfishly take from her what I needed without her knowing.
But that’s gonna change. While she was taking her gap year, I started some soul-searching myself.
I realized long ago that getting Melaena Blackburn out of my blood is impossible. Out of my mind. Out of my dreams. And out of my heart. So I made a difficult decision.
First, I stopped fucking around. I hadn’t cum in the near vicinity of a female since the accident. My dick hasn’t seen a mouth or a pussy, only my hand, and I can tell you that getting off while thinking about her is not the way nature intended. It isn’t very good, to tell the truth, and definitely not my first choice … but it is my only alternative right now.
At least my arm muscles are getting a workout.
It’s necessary … there can be no mistakes. Too much is at risk. And I need to plan it right … ’cause as soon as her brothers find out, they’re going to seriously hurt me for sure. Again I think how that stupid curse is coming back to haunt me. But that was necessary too. I couldn’t let some guy just move in on my property.
Now I have one shot.
And after tonight, seeing her with that fucking asshole, I know I made the right decision. She belongs to me. And fucking me alone. I just need to persuade her … and her blood-crazy family … of that fact.
But convincing the bunch of playboy morons that just happen to be her brothers, that I’m actually sincerely and truly pussy-whipped by their sister, is not going to be an easy task. I know there will be bodily harm, and I’m okay with that. But I’m not okay with losing our brotherly bond.
And without my rules and usual fallbacks, I’m slowly losing control. Fucking voodoo magic. Hell, just thinking about her and here I am, blown into a full-on painful erection while an iron hand is squeezing around my throat.
Something’s got to give.
I take out my phone and dial my father.
“Hey son, where are you?” he asks as soon as he answers.
“I’m looking after Logan and Mel. They had a little too much to drink.”
“Mel?” I can hear the lingering worry in his voice.
“Yeah. Dad, am I doing the right thing?” I can’t believe I’m starting one of those deep emotional discussions … I hate them more than losing a race.
“I think so son,” he says quickly without hesitation. “Are you doubting your feelings?”
“I don’t know what it is about her, she just drives me insane. Always has. But is it real? I don’t want to lose her brothers’ friendship for nothing.”
“Well, only you can answer that. There are always risks … the question you should ask is whether she’s worth those risks. Is having her worth losing Logan?” It’s like Sophie’s Choice. I really really hope I don’t need to choose. I will miss Logan like the shit.
“How did you know with Mom?”
“Between you and me … if she drives you this crazy … it’s a good start.” I smile. “I think I just suddenly realized that other women became rather lucid … they just didn’t compare.” Since I’ve met her no girl could ever compare. I never felt crap for anyone. But my hesitation is not actually about my feelings … it’s about much more.
“Dad, what if she finds out I’m not a good guy, and that she deserves more?” What if she can’t handle my demons?