brazen blasts of its whistle. The ground beneath the bus shook, and Lisa glanced up at the gray towers of limestone, waiting for them to crack from their mile-high perches on the hills.
There was a commotion in the bus. Even Mrs. Turner had leaned over to gawk out the window. Lisa's heart slipped up into her throat. For a moment, she thought the rock cliffs had begun their plummet. Then she saw the cause of the commotion. A group of about a dozen boys was running toward the railroad tracks, leaned forward, sprinting, as if determined to collide with the oncoming train.
The boys, of high school age, resembled a pack of savages. Their long hair, shoulder length or longer, flew and flopped behind them in the wind like shocks of wheatstraw. Some of the boys' looked naturally blond. The others had darker hair, but well sun bleached. All the boys were well built, their tanned muscles gleaming with sweat. And they were naked, or nearly so – shoeless and wearing nothing but dirty gray jockstraps, jockstraps that bulged as if stuffed with fists of limestone. The appearance of the boys shocked Lisa nearly as much as their apparently suicidal mission.
'Stop!' screamed half the people in the bus.
'Run!' screamed the other, half.
And the bus driver laid on his horn.
The boys charged. The train whistle blasted. The last boy's long legs hurdled the gleaming steel tracks only seconds before the diesel monster devoured the air where his lithe figure had just crossed.
A sigh, like a cool wind passed through the bus. People fell back in their seats. Some laughed, some swore to themselves. Lisa's heart dropped back into her chest, and she was aware of it thudding her breastbone. She was also aware that she was sweating, and that her muscles had stiffened. She rubbed her hands, resting her forehead against the bus window while she recovered from the sudden shock. Though the incident bad spanned no more than seconds, it had seemed to Lisa like minutes.
Lisa watched the pack of nearly naked boys disappear up the street behind the bus. They appeared to glide effortlessly over the cushion of fallen yellow leaves, their bare feet as light as the leaves themselves. Their long backs were straight, and willowy as saplings. Their asscheeks flexed like globes of bronze. Lisa was amazed that the boys of Sutton could run the streets with their bare asses flexing in the sunshine. She'd never even imagined such a thing. But before she could take full advantage of the situation, before she had overcome her initial shock and could gaze upon the young athletes with lust, the near-naked boys were out of sight.
The train passed, the bus moved forward again, and Lisa sat back in her seat. She glanced up at Mrs. Turner, who was muttering, 'Young fools! Not a brain in their heads.' The entire bus was mumbling now. The boys had caused quite a stir.
Lisa smiled to herself, suddenly feeling like a sister to the daring youths. After all, those boys were undoubtedly her future classmates at Sutton High School, toughest school in the state.
Lisa began to feel warmer again, more relaxed. She'd made the right choice after all. She looked up at the monstrous pillars guarding the city. They looked less threatening now. Yes, Sutton was where she belonged. She was glad once again that she had kissed Mrs. Turner's bony ass, that she had begged for a home in Sutton. Sutton was all right. Undoubtedly, among Sutton's endless ranks of super athletes, she'd find herself a super boyfriend, a handsome youth with beautiful muscles and a big horny cock. And then she'd be satisfied. That was all she wanted; all she'd ever wanted.
The bus was passing huge white houses. Most had two stories and large, leaf-blanketed lawns. Lisa was beginning to see more people now, mostly old men raking leaves. In a heap of leaves on one of the lawns, two boys were wrestling. They were barefooted, barechested, and dressed in ragged jeans. The boys were perhaps eleven or twelve, and fighting fiercely, rolling in the leaves like young tigers. Lisa was struck by their viciousness. They crushed and clawed and beat each other mercilessly.
Then, as if responding to a referee's whistle, they both jumped up, gazing at a young woman with a shopping bag who was passing by on the sidewalk.
The boys shout and laughed the woman, then looked at each other, laughing. The woman waved a blue umbrella at the boys, as if threatening them with it. Lisa wondered what on earth the woman was doing carrying an umbrella on a partly cloudy day.
The boys lunged at the woman, circling her like two dogs. As they danced around her, keeping just out of range of her menacing umbrella, they flashed their brown middle fingers at her, laughing all the while and apparently taunting her with their words. As the bus continued on toward the depot, Lisa stared back after the boys and the woman until they were out of sight. What was that all about? she wondered.
Mrs. Turner, who sat straight-faced and still stared straight ahead, suddenly appeared to smile. Her tight lips turned up ever so slightly at the corners, as if being raised by books.
'Still glad you came here, Miss Wills?' she asked. 'Just remember that it was your doing that got you here, not mine. The committee out voted me.'
Lisa was stunned. 'But I thought…'
'Thought nothing! You're much too young to think. You thought you had buttered me up. Nonsense! I wasn't fooled for a second. I was against Sutton from the beginning, and I'm still against it. But it's out of my hands now, young lady. Now you're your own responsibility. And if you end up in a mess, just remember who's to blame – yourself and that foolish committee.' Lisa felt like strangling the old bat, but she just sat there, speechless. She was beginning to feel afraid again. As Mrs. Turner spoke, dirty clouds blocked out the sun, and the limestone bluff above Sutton once more pressed down upon Lisa, threatening to bury her.
CHAPTER TWO
Mrs. Turner was gone, headed back to Parcher, Lisa's home for as long as she could remember. The old bat had lost no time in catching the first available bus out of Sutton.
'Good luck,' the old turkey-face had said before turning away to board her bus, and for a moment Lisa had felt a sobbing pressure in her chest. Take me with you, Lisa had felt like saying. I've made a mistake. But Lisa knew that that would do no good. She had determined her own fate. She'd done everything possible to get herself sent to Sutton, and now that she was here, there was no turning back, no turning back unless she were to run away. And then, where would she run to? She'd already run away from Parcher more times than she could remember. She'd make a fool of herself now, running away from Sutton and going back to Parcher. No she was stuck here in Sutton for better or for worse. She looked around the dirty bus depot. Slouched in a chair at the end of a row of seats was an old man drinking out of a bottle half concealed in a paper bag. The ticket seller, a fat, red-faced young man with slicked down black hair, sat behind his ticket cage eyeing her up and down. He looked slimy. She could almost feel his cool, moist hands pawing her. She turned away, trying to pay him no attention. The clock at the rear of the depot read 11:40. The head of her new foster home was due to meet her at the depot at noon. Lisa headed for the restroom to brush the smell of the bus out of her blond hair.
The hallway to the restrooms was almost dark, lit only by a small bare light bulb that hung from the ceiling at one end. The hallway smelled of piss and disinfectant, and for once Lisa was glad she was wearing shoes. She half-expected to slip in a pool of slime as she crept down the cold hallway. She came to a door labeled CUNTS in magic marker. The word WOMEN had been blocked out.
The door was heavy, made it drag across the floor as she forced it open as far as it would go barely a foot.
The room was as dim as the hallway, and it reeked of piss. The mirror above the dingy gray washbasin had suck cock written across it in big letters which were unmistakably lipstick. The doors of the toilet stalls were a mass of graffiti: sexual slogans, drawings of guys fucking girls, huge spurting cocks. Though the smell of the room made her almost hold her nose, Lisa pushed into the room to get a closer look at the graffiti. She loved reading graffiti, and this was the filthiest, most explicit stuff she'd ever seen. As she squeezed through the narrow door opening, she felt her cunt squeeze out a few drops of warm juice. She felt like rubbing herself off.
Once inside, she walked straight toward the written on stall doors. Wow! She'd never seen so many drawings of cocks shooting off. She swallowed. She could almost taste the flying cum. Now she knew she was going to rub herself off.
The door behind her scraped on the concrete floor banging shut. Lisa spun around.
