Lucas Montgomery

It's not that I don't like boobs, but sometimes I just prefer wood.

I forgot how old I was when I realized that I preferred to stroke another guy's junk than to jam a couple of fingers inside something wet. But I know that I much prefer to be the little spoon of a much bigger person than I am. Anyway, since I stand at 5'11, most of the people that fit the criteria are guys. Men. Male. Dudes.

In other words, yes, Lucas Montgomery occasionally goes for the other side of the team.

Yes, Lucas Montgomery doesn't ask and doesn't tell.

Yes. Lucas Montgomery is bi. Except, I'm not curious at all. I know that I prefer to take it like a champ than stick it in like Rambo. I'm just not sure if I'll still have my social standing if everybody knows that this is not just a 'phase'.

I'm actually really afraid that my whole life will be ruined because a certain guy I hooked up with will decide that the whole 'woods before boobs' thing was actually not a one-month duration phase we're exploring together. And when he had his taste, he expected me to have the same kind of epiphany. Unfortunately, for me it was the real deal; that liking guys would be what I would do for the rest of my life.

I should have known that I shouldn't disagree with Desmond Arrington; shouldn't coax him into prolonging that one month fling into something with a degree of permanence.

And now, a year later, he's still aiming for my jugular. And not in a sexual way.

It was all supposed to be very experimental; that was the word that we had used when we kissed the second time sober. Desmond thought that it would be edgy to kiss a guy, and he thought that what we had was supposed to be only that : just an edgy, hipster-y, experimental thing two hot, bored guys do in their junior high school year.

So when he decided that he was bored of me, he wanted my word that what we had was nothing more than that. That I was also experimenting, and just being edgy and artsy.

Except I totally wasn't.

And of course, I understand that sometimes love doesn't last. I do, I really do. I understand if sometimes Desmond Arrington gets bored of someone. Given his history and long-list of exes, I was lucky to stay a little longer than 28 days.

But now he had robbed my freedom to come out. I can kiss guys, but then I have to also divide my time with girls. I can get into as many gay-dating apps there is, but then I also have to date girls, too. I can wear androgynous clothing, but I also need to roughen up and act like a macho guy occasionally. I'm stuck in this little purgatory called 'phase'.

And it sucked. It sucked so bad to live like this.

Desmond Arrington is a demon in the form of a Greek God, and he needs to be taken down a peg or two. I've been scheming for months, but right now, I've finally gotten the opportunity to see him cry.

Maybe doing this won't grant me my freedom to come out, but at least I can see him suffer half as much as I did. Maybe doing this won't add much to my life, but at least I can see his life downgrade a little bit. Maybe doing this won't benefit me in the long term, but at least I can see him be miserable in the short term.

And for me, that's enough.

That's enough.

—————

5: More Men to Cry For

When Cassie texted Lucas about her predicament, she didn't expect to see him in just about five minutes of time. Lucas had always been a slow-texter, a creature so deeply invested in his own time and/or hobbies that he simply got out of touch with his means of communication.

Or so Cassie thought.

Turns out, Lucas was only a slow-texter for things that had nothing to do about gossip and/or The Scheme. Just two seconds after Cassie sent her text, Lucas rang her back.

And now, five minutes later, here he was.

"Ok, so you need to get some of these slips to give to the teacher," he handed Cassie some of his hallway passes, "and we need to go to the Ping Pong Room so that we can make out."

It took Cassie exactly a three time reruns inside her head to really dissect Lucas's words. "Wait, wait, wait," she reran the words once more just to make sure she didn't get the wrong idea. "What?"

By the time she spoke, Lucas was already at the other side of the hall. "We have to make out!" he yelled. "Ok? So pop some fresh mints and get over here!"

Cassie didn't like how loud Lucas was being, and how much attention he drew by shouting that kind of thing. But maybe 'make out' was another code for something else, so she followed him to the ping pong room. Upon they got there, however, he closed the door and suddenly strode over her in a really suspicious manner.

"Owowowowowow! What's going on here?!" Cassie held up both of her hands over her chest for protection.

Lucas sighed, exasperated. "I thought we agreed that you're skipping the next period to make out with me?"

"And I thought 'make out' was code for 'Not making out but another thing that doesn't include making out'?"

"Are you saying that you don't want to kiss me?"

Cassie gave him a quick glance. Lucas clearly wasn't ugly, in fact, he was really good-looking in a raggedy, artistic kind of way, but she clearly wasn't ready to get her lips anywhere close to his.

"You broke my heart, Cassie," Lucas's mouth formed a cringe. "When you texted me, 'U need 2 teach me how 2 b around boys', I thought you're ready for what I'm about to teach you."

"And that includes you sticking your tongue down my throat?"

"Believe me, you're not really my type either. No offense, but you need to learn to keep your cool around guys, especially the guys around Desmond," Lucas paused. "They know they're attractive, and there's always an illicit power play going on when a guy and a girl are in a room together, and most of the time, the virgin comes out the loser."

"And if both aren't virgins?"

"The one with better sexual-history win."

Against her will, Cassie laughed. She never knew what to expect when she started a rapport with Lucas, but no matter how crass it become, somehow he managed to make it comfortable.

"Now tell me what's going on. What makes you think you need to be The Goddess around guys?"

"Desmond just kissed my ear," Cassie confessed.

Lucas raised an eye, but then said nothing to respond to her.

"I nearly lost my shit back there," this time, the confession was harder to make. "He only kissed my ear, and I failed english pronto."

There was pity flashing in his eyes, but Lucas refrained from commenting on anything hurtful, which Cassie was thankful of.

"I know, I just know, that he still hasn't forgotten about me completely. That I still got a chance to make him bleed if I play my cards right. But if I can't take care of this," she put her hand over her chest, "whenever he's near me, then I'm dead. I'll ruin everything."

"Ah, Cassie," Lucas put a hand on her shoulder, which made her flinch a little. They made eye-contact, an excruciatingly long one, that is, before he beamed at her brightly. "You really do hate him, don't you."

And then he kissed her.

And of course it was different than from when Desmond kissed her. As much as he was a bastard, Desmond knew how to build up anticipation, fear, some kind of longing; so that their first kiss had been far more electric. But then, even with the nonexistent feelings that Cassie had for Lucas, she was still blushing when he finally pulled away and grinned at her.

"The face you're making right now," Lucas said to Cassie, apparently unperturbed by their shared moment of intimacy five seconds ago. "Is truly majestic. You almost make me think that you're totally, hopelessly in love with me."

"I... do... not!" but then she was shaking, blushing, and practically flustering.

Lucas didn't even need to say anything. Just a while later, after Cassie's heartbeat calmed down, she regained back her wits. "I'm so fucked, aren't I?"

"You poor thing," Lucas sling a hand around her shoulder. "While the rest of us are trying to date and sleep with each other, here you are suppressing your hormones and chatting strangers online."

"Please don't make me feel more like a loser than I already am."

And then Cassie added this, because she felt like she needed him to know. "And thanks for the surprise kiss."

—

"Okay, so we established that it's totally impossible to turn you into a goddess within a short time period," Lucas rolled his eyes. "After all, you've spent the first 16 years of your life making out with fictional characters."

"Not true," Cassie's face reddened. It totally was. True.

"You need to toughen up, missus. I don't want you to go falling in love with every guy who kisses you. That won't be good for your heart."

"But how do you guys do it? You guys can sleep with each other and not get... totally affected like that," it still baffled Cassie at how very casual all the Elites were acting towards one  another. She knew the girls whom Desmond had shared a bed with, and she knew Lucas wasn't a prude either. But none of them seemed to be as bothered with it as Cassie was. They all still hung out with each other and give each other friendly hugs, no big deal.

Lucas paused, and for a short second, Cassie could see a little bit of frown forming on his smooth forehead. Maybe he wasn't as casual about it as he let on. Maybe he was, despite his demeanor, a little bit affected.

But then that little flicker of hesitation vanished as Lucas giggled. "You know, most of them weren't that good."

He put a hand on her lower back, Cassie flinched at the intimate gesture. "Gosh, woman, I can't even touch you without seeing you make that lovey-dovey expression? You needed to get laid, like, five years ago."

"I would be thirteen," Cassie protested.

"Exactly."

She couldn't help laughing. "You're crazy, Lucas."

"Thank you for the compliment."

She laughed again.

"In the risk of you falling for me, and let me remind you, it would definitely be unrequited," Lucas added, much to Cassie's annoyance, "I propose a new idea."

"Such generosity, Mr. Montgomery."

"Handsome, amiable, and very kind. I won't want to limit myself to just one girl," he winked. Cassie liked that he always managed to joke without being mean to himself. All her life, Cassie always thought that being funny meant being self-deprecating; finding flaws to make fun of yourself. But this could work, too. This self-elevating thing. Though obviously not a lot of people could pull it off.

"We need to find you a pretend-boyfriend," Lucas said.

"What?"

"I'm calling backup."

Five minutes later, the whole room was filled with pretty people. Tyra was of course here, wearing her bored expression and standing tall with her Blahnik. Her two good friends were here, too, giggling and talking close to each other.

"You were great at the lunch table, Cassie," one of them said to me. "You didn't mumble yourself into oblivion and that's already saying something. Most 'normies' that we invite just end up humiliating themselves."

"Yeah, we actually made a little game of it, you know. We would invite a normie once in a while and then silently laugh as they slowly regretted every word that came out from their mouth. It's actually funny."

"Of course it's Desmond's idea," Tyra said without looking at us. From the looks of it, she deemed her fingernails were the most interesting thing in the room. "Trust him to come up with the most sadistic things to do to people weaker than him."

"I'm not weake-"

"Guys, Cassie needs a fake boyfriend," Lucas said. "Not August. First, he's like the only person in the world who thinks Desmond is a nice baby. Second, he's too dumb and being around him will make me feel murderous. I hate stupid people," Lucas groaned. "Not me, either. Desmond's targeting me enough already and I want to have a good night sleep."

"We can don out some of the B-listers. What do you feel about dating a sophomore?" one of the girls said.

"I'm-" Cassie stuttered. She actually didn't know what to think. Up until a month ago, the concept of dating someone was something alien to her. Something that happened to other people, not her. And now there she was, in a room full of people picking Mr. Right for her.

"No, Tyra, you're not thinking big enough. This guy has to have strong social standing. He has to be at least a senior, and he has to get into Desmond's nerves."

"Someone masculine, then. But not the athletes because Desmond is friends with all of them," Tyra tipped her chin.

"Doesn't wear glasses. Fit. Six pack if possible. Desmond is still working on his abs, he can't seem to move past four packs," one of the girls observed. She stole a glance towards Tyra. "Sorry. Couldn't help noticing."

"I wouldn't even care if you sleep with him," Tyra said, but Cassie could tell that her eyes glinted mischievously a little bit. Tyra might hate her longtime boyfriend with a burning passion, and given the chance, she might want to murder him in cold blood, but she was still possessive about him.

It was, Cassie decided, a tumultuous relationship. She didn't know if she wanted to have that kind of relationship with anyone, ever.

After a while, the guys started shouting names. Most of them Cassie were familiar with; they were the top notch guys that went to their school. All handsome, fit, and amiable. It made her grew anxious, because never mind having to pretend dating them; what if they didn't want to fake-date her?! What if she wasn't good enough for them to fake-date? What if they didn't want to hold her or act like they were in love with her? After all, she had spend the last three years getting ignored by them. Why start caring now?

"Oh stop having that face," Tyra's voice boomed from behind. "You're not a bad looking girl, Cassie. And since you're here not because of a scholarship, you came from a good, affluent family. Plenty of boys will want you, if only you'd stop looking like you hate yourself very much."

Cassie gulped. She didn't like that these Elites managed to read her like a goddamn open book. But then again, she had only spent the last few years communicating mainly with people from the internet; people who were more awkward than her, people who never went out; people less privileged than her. It made her feel safe, knowing that she was the most socially knowledgeable one out of the bunch.

But right now she was surrounded with the creme of the top, and she had to get used to feel stupid and uncomfortable.

"Then I want someone dark haired," Cassie demanded. The whole room listened to her. "It's my type."

For a few seconds, no one said anything, and Cassie had a downing realization that maybe they were all ready to laugh at her. For demanding something like that. For acting as if she really was one of them.

But then the discussion started anew, and it was more lively than before.

More names were thrown out, before finally, Tyra held up her hand.

"I know the perfect candidate," Tyra said. "Tall, brooding, sets Desmond off like a candy being offered to a special needs toddler. He's dark haired, too, and will be absolutely down to anything that will make my dear boyfriend suffer."

Tyra let her words lingered in the air for a few moments, savoring the intense anticipation that built inside the room.

And then she said that name:

"Tristan. Tristan Arrington. Desmon'd step-brother."

And Cassie never wanted to nope out of a project faster than this.

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author's note:

things that had happened since the last time i updated this story:

i graduated college.

i got engaged

i got married.

YES IT'S BEEN THAT LONG!

but now it's back, guys. haha. if you guys follow me, you'll know that i'm becoming more active on wattpad :) welcome to SAHW world!

I hope that you guys still like this story! and well, for new readers, hello, and lucky you for not having to endure a 3-4 year long wait before the next update, because i'm going to post more chapters for this story weekly! :)