Spending Mother's Day with Mrs. Parr

BY : TimedWatcher
Category: +G through L > Incredibles, The
Dragon prints: 25432
Disclaimer: I do not own The Incredibles, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

"Mom! I'm going to Violet's!" He waited for that usual response as he ran down the stairs.

No response.

She must have still been at work.

He ran over to the fridge, grabbing a hanging pen. He thought of what to write for a second before popping the top, as he then scribbled something against the mini erase board.

"Went... To... Violet's..."

As he pulled on the plastic leash, springing the pen back, he never figured he'd be the one leaving a note like this. Usually it'd be his mom leaving an explanation on how to cook dinner. 'Yes mom, I know not to burn the house down.' He looked to the stove top despite having already eaten earlier, his focus not on the gauges or knobs.

8:43. Not much time left.

Opening the front, he was about to throw up his hoodie, then stopped short outside the door frame as he didn't hear the sound of water trickling in a pitter patter. Holding out his hand revealed that the rain had stopped awhile ago. The aftermath of the rain leaving only everything it could land on drenched in the recent bout of bad weather going on.



He turned, looking back into the house. If that was his mom calling, she would see the note when she got back and wouldn't freak out over a missed a call.

If she was being reasonable today.

Clicking the lock in the door, he slammed it shut - the sound of the phone growing more and more distant before the only sound that remained was between his shoes and the wet grass. The dark overcast and his unlit backyard did little in preventing him from getting his bike however; the side of the shed was where he usually stashed it, and even though he was sure the roof of the shack would have prevented the rain from touching it, he still swiped a finger over the seat.

Bone dry.

He gripped both handles, steering it as he walked side by side with it, the familiar click of it as he mowed over the moist lawn until he hit the cement path where his mom usually parked the car; that's where and when he took to it. Initially free handing it while pumping the pedals, the downward momentum had him regaining control before he hit the street, turning slightly as he drove towards a curb across the street that brought him up again, before he set his sights on his neighbour's dirt hill. Increasing speeds, he slowed just for a second as he rode off the thing, before bouncing in water that had pooled near a sewer grate, sending it all in an upward splash he narrowly managed to avoid.

He felt like this smile on his face would never go away.

He relaxed, one handing it as he peddled a bit slower. Something seemed different than the times he usually did this for fun, but couldn't figure out why. Then he made it past a three way intersection without having to stop to check, he knew then

No traffic

He had never noticed before how free he felt, to feel like you owned wherever you went. Not to mention that skitter of water his wheels would scare up was strangely satisfying. He wondered why he had never done this more often.

A booming crack came from above, and as he reflexively turned to look up to the sky, a stiff droplet hit him right beneath his right eye, causing him to rapidly blink, as he jammed his foot into the ground, stopping himself dead still.

He could only think back to how he got himself into this mess.


Upturning his knapsack, he let his book bag spill out onto his bed. Books, pencils and weird crumbs of plastic landed all over.

His scattershot approach to finding what he needed in this pile of a mess seemed incomprehensible, but as he pulled and pushed the pieces like a puzzle, it all seemed to come together as he found what he was looking for.

He threw the heavy math book onto its spine, bouncing it open and letting it land before he started flipping it towards page 177, a page that had been bookmarked by his work book.

Trig was killing him, but he needed to finish up for tonight, cause nothing was going to ruin his weekend.

You'd normally think 'come on, some incomplete homework wouldn't hurt anybody', but Mr. Horshbourne liked to mess with the students if they didn't complete the work or hand in everything, and he had one simple method:

He doubled it.

Just the thought of a weekend alone with this stuff made him shudder. Picking up a pencil, that had nearly fallen off the side, he started flipping through the journal, to that muscle memory imprint he had made from previously working on it.

A blank page?

No. He remembered being here and drawing a couple of...

He peeled the pages back, trying to find a page where he knew he had jotted something down before and...

It was wrong - all wrong.

Not the answers, mind you. "Show your work" as they say, and this wasn't his work at all. The circles were too round, the r's looked like r's, and there wasn't that half baked attempt to erase his errors. He feared the answer as he closed the ledger, his eyes working down from the top of it where it said "exercise book".

Name: Violet Parr

He gave himself a stiff smack with the thing... great.


Throwing down his bike with total disregard, he felt like a criminal running up to the house, hoodie sunken in to his head, as he clutched at his sides, head hanging low, he stared at the floor mat beneath his feet, lifting a foot to see the large text reading PARR, the showering drizzle on the steps and driveway sounding like hail as the droplets smattered in echos on the tin gutters.

Knocking on the right red wood door repeatedly, he only stopped when his knuckles started radiating pain. He didn't wait long before he reached and tapped again - but stopped when he heard movement from behind it, he relaxed when he heard the sound of a lock being manipulated.

The left door opened and the first thing he could see was a warm orange glow, as the other side swung open. She stood before him in a coffee stained button up, a very confused look on her face. He remembered seeing her once before, that same chestnut brown haircut as she was seeing Violet off before they walked to school together. "M-Mrs. Parr... is Violet home? I have-"

"Dear, I think it'd be best if you came inside." He looked up to her, then quickly away, trying to avert his eyes, while also shaking his head. He didn't need a second mom. "I don't bite, you know. Trust me, I'm doing this more for my sake, cause I know Violet would never forgive me for making her new boyfriend sick."

He gulped down whatever misgivings he had after a pause. "Okay." He said blankly, waiting for the invitation as she moved to allow him in. As he stepped inside, he briefly looked up to her. The house wasn't the only thing beaming warmth his way, as she gave him a welcoming smile.

He had to physically move back when she turned towards the door. He tried not to stare too hard. Before he could take another step, there was a sudden yank from behind. He froze as he could feel her squeeze the material until some of the water ran loose. "You're as soaked as the day you were born." What?

Oh... she was right. He could feel it down to his toes, as the wrinkled skin writhed against the wet - but not quite cold or warm - sog, that now inhabited his sock and shoe after he had stepped in a puddle that was deeper than he realised. 'If he was making a mess, it was her fault for bringing him inside in the first place' he thought.

Then the words he never thought he'd hear inside of a girl's house came

"We need to get you out of those clothes."


"I'll just be a sec, hun."

He tossed the soggy sweater down in a slump against the linoleum floor, as he slipped on the cotton white shirt that seemed a tad too small. He waited a second before leaning suspiciously over the hole in the wall of the kitchen, trying to see where the older woman had gone - with the wooden floor reflecting very little light down the hallway.

Hopefully she wouldn't be long in getting Violet.

He pulled up a chair; one of those kinds of kitchen chairs that was more of a pain in the ass to sit in than his school's desk chair, before lifting up one of his feet and peeling off the slimy, almost bonded to his skin, socks.

Repeating the action again, and now with the both of them off, he rolled them together into a ball along with his sweater before dunking them into a garbage bag Mrs. Parr provided, then picking up the dry clothes he was given.

Hun? Honey? Not even his mom called him that.

Not even Violet called him that...

She had suggested to meet her in the living room when he was done changing - he obliged, but only because she asked. It was weird to walk freely in a stranger's home, seeing shadowed photos of faces of family members he hadn't met, and yeah, Violet may have been his girlfriend, but it's not like he knew her mom real well or even their dad or whatever. He was all so new to this and just didn't want to make an ass out of himself--but that may be too late already.

Right, he'd do better. He'd talk about something, he'd introduce himself properly... did she even know his name? Well duh, Violet would have told her by now... right?

He peaked his head out from the corner with no sign of Mrs. Parr. Almost on the tips of his toes, he crept over to the single seater, falling into it with a surprising amount of bounce and body room. This thing was obviously made for somebody huge. He settled finally, folding his hands in his lap as he seemed to count the seconds, sometimes losing track out of boredom more than anything.


It wasn't a loud door slam, but just the suddenness of it raised his hackles. He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard heavy, determined clicks coming down the hallway. He knew it wasn't Violet; she was like a ghost sometimes. As they grew louder and louder, he watched from the corner of his eye for the exact moment she'd appear.

It didn't take long.

The silhouette of her body clearly revealing that she had changed into a different outfit that he couldn't make out. She continued unabated past him, and once he got a better look at her, he had a hard time stopping. Now sporting a crimson dress and a drink in her hand, she wasn't anything like the woman he had met at the front door, but she seemed to be having a bit of trouble walking, as her outfit was looking a little too tight... not that he was complaining. She had a bit of an exaggerated swing in her step that looked like a swagger, which seemed to stem naturally from the width of her hips, which could either be awkward or sexy, depending on your point of view. This came to ahead as the older woman stumbled forward in her red heels. He rose hoping to help, but she had already caught herself. She stood slightly askew, hand above her chest. She seemed a little relieved. He was too as he took his seat again.

As he had just sit down, she had made her way to a chair across from him, but she didn't sit down right away. He had to physically cover his mouth with his hand, unable to believe the sight across from him. He could feel his body tighten - and it felt like time was slowing down as she had bent over to pat down the couch. Before, he couldn't believe that a mother could look so good in tight yoga pants, but now... the way her red dress hugged against her behind reminded him of a... heart... a big swaying heart he wanted to...

He had to stop staring.

He couldn't stop staring.

Finally, he just closed his eyes, and his beating chest and the burning feeling in his body began to soothe itself. He was just hoping she hadn't noticed, and like she had just read his mind, she turned her head over her shoulder with a knowing wink and nod.

He swallowed.

"Do you have a father?"

"Yeah... but he only comes around a few times a month."

"Oh... so it's just you and your mother..." Even in her altered state, he could sense a regretful emotion overtake her features. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to..."

He tried to wave it off. "It's alright, Mrs. Parr."

"Please... call me Helen. I'm not a Mrs. anymore anyway."

He weakly smiled, responding as if he knew his cue. "Sorry Mrs. Helen..." He sat like an idiot only for a microsecond before he realised what he had done. "I mean!-"

She giggled. "It's quite alright, dear. I like when a boy is nervous around me." He didn't know how to respond to that other than looking away with a bashful shrug. She continued her questioning. "What's your mother like?"

Is there a good response to that question? "She's my mom..." He struggled to find the words. "I don't really see her cause she works a lot." He reached for the back of his neck. "For the most part she comes home after I've already eaten, prepares a meal for tomorrow, then goes up to her room." He hated admitting he didn't know much about her.

"Being a mother can be so unrewarding when you don't have someone rushing home in anticipation of seeing you again..." He just wished that somebody was home, but the slurring of her words was starting to make him crack. "She might have a cold exterior, but like any mother there's got to be a warm and compassionate side to her. A side that only a mother could show."

He stared into the palm of his hand, as if he had something, but it seemed to have fluttered away. "I remember she said she was proud of me once, but I don't even remember why. Proud of what exactly? I'm not straight A student material..."

Something glinted in her eye. "Look at ya. You're a healthy and good lookin' boy. I can see why my Violet spends so much time with you..." Resting her drink, her meaty thighs pressed together before turning them away from him before he could see what was between them. For a brief moment, she was like picturesque vision of a 50's house wife. Holding onto the bottom of her dress, it was like she read his mind -- or more accurately, where his eyes had wandered; he put them into his lap, as he heard her striding over. "She could just find you... intimidating."

"Intimidating? Me?" He raised his head to meet her, but the only one intimidated here was him when she was leaning right down next to him on the arm rest, the acrid smell of fruity perfume lining his esophagus.

"Sure. Imagine having a spry and handsome young man like yourself literally aching through his puberty living in the same house." Now his face wasn't the only one that was red. He wasn't sure if it was what she was drinking or... "Oh, I honestly couldn't imagine. I'm so glad my Dash is with his father..." His right leg began shaking, as Helen seemed lost in thought. "Do you find her attractive?"

The question caught him off guard. "What? No." He tried to play it off, but it was an awkward situation made even worse. "She's my mom. I could never find her attractive." He wondered if that was a rude thing to say.

Her knuckles brushed against his cheek. "Do you find me attractive?"

He looked away. "Oh, because she's your mother you can't think of her that way. Well I'm not your mother, now am I?" In that split second, everything changed, as she cupped him below the belt. He sat, staring into her eyes for a moment, wondering if this was actually happening. That's when she went for the kiss. His tightened shoulders slumped a bit. He had no idea what he was doing. Violet and him traded some pecks or light smooches, but this was a full on enveloping grown up kiss, his mouth moving with hers. He tasted something strange in her breath--it was strong and sour, he knew whatever it was, it had to be from that light brown drink in that fancy glass she was holding before, and he thought he would hate it, but there was something about it that made the older woman's mouth... warmer. The back of her hand pressed to the back of his head, pulling him in further, as he ultimately reciprocated, almost wilting into her as he pressed back into her invitingly full lips. She broke away, still holding onto him, her voice breathy. "That's the great part about this kiddo... you can be as honest with how you feel about her, with me."

That made things weird again.

He jumped up. He needed to run. He needed to find Violet. He needed to go home.

Yet he didn't make it far.

Like a coyote, his legs were kicking the air. He didn't feel like he was floating though, it felt more like he was on a track at an airport, slowly moving back and towards Violet's mother. Before he knew what was happening, he was lightly placed back into the chair. The boy nearly choked, as he looked down to see that she had entangled her arm around him like a comically oversized rope. It didn't take a genius to know who she was now. "Y-you're Elastigirl."

Climbing atop him, her body latched onto him, as her weighty bottom ground against his growth. "Would you prefer I wore the costume?" She delivered in a hushed whisper against his neck. A flash image of her curvy body in that constrictive spandex. He just shook his head no. He couldn't be thinking like that. He... liked Violet.

Damn it. He couldn't even admit it in his own head.

Violet's mom wasn't the demure woman out of time he imagined her to be just a moment ago -- she was instead a high school sex kitten of fully matured proportions that he could only ever dream about. As the heavy petting resumed, her hand finding its way down his pants now, a devilish visage forming as she took a handful of him. "Ah... there you are." She said with a semi stroke. "Get nice and big for mama."

That was it... he had reached the zenith of the attraction he could have for her in his loins.

He was hers.

"Do you still want this?" Her voice came only slightly audible below a whisper - as if she didn't want him to hear it.

He left her without doubt, meeting her hershey colored gaze head on for the first time without breaking, totally entranced. She giggled with a pur, her teeth lightly tugging his ear in a playful manner. "I think you could hold me up with it if you really wanted..." Maybe that was true - he felt like steel down there, in a way Violet never could wrestle out of him like Helen just did, leaving him outside of his underwear.

She unrestricted herself from both him and the seat, no longer fearful of him running, and he wasn't going to. They kissed again, more open mouthed this time, as his hands roamed her body for only a second before taking a stranglehold of her ass, hugging her like he was a waist high child who missed his mother, one hand fully clasped on one side and the other a bit more loose, with his fingers draping down past the hem of her dress and into her thigh, grinding his palms into her firm globes, squeezing like he actually could make an imprint, loving the feeling of her body. As he explored, he could feel more and more of the dress starting to slip up, and his hands kept expecting to find a pair of lacey black underwear or something, instead, he found the smooth texture of her ass. Splitting them apart, she moaned into his mouth and he imagined what was between those cheeks--but if she wasn't wearing underwear, didn't that mean...

It was like she knew him like her own son, as her knees slowly swung open for him, her hands on her thighs running against them as if teasing him just that little hint more. His eyes nearly left his head; appealing brown tufts of hair nested above her glistening pink pussy lips that she now spread out to him. He humped at the air, and as he did, he could feel the heat radiating from her as she was about to make contact with him, but she suddenly stopped lowering herself. "You know... I'm not on anything at the moment, so if you came inside me..."

He gave the dumbest, loudest, caveman 'Huh?' in the world, his mind elsewhere.

"The baby... will you help me raise our child..."

He had... some idea of what she was saying now, but god, he needed this. He tried to stab upwards, but she was just out of reach - she had moved back. "Please Violet's Mo-... Helen. Please"

"Ah ah ah... you know what I need you to say." Any drunkenness he could blame instead of her evaporated. She was serious...

"Yes! Of course! Of course I'll take care of it!" He really would have said anything in that instant. Why couldn't it be a realistic request? Like mowing her lawn every week...

She let him find his way, and any complaints he had melted away as soon as his head grazed against her most sensitive of areas. Wrapping himself around her middle, he jackhammered any way he could, spending himself quickly, excited about wanting to do the one thing Violet never let him. Her insides felt like heaven.

She strained, pulling down at her top, her cleavage becoming more and more... open, but not yet exposed, biting her lip as she did, lids lowering, losing focus on him, seemingly forgetting that he was even in the room for a moment even despite being inside of her; her melons like on a rope bridge that couldn't stop rocking back and forth, as he watched where the shoulder met the pit become taut, anticipating their escape.

They jiggled loose and free in front of him; her chest was large, natural and tear drop shaped; not the least bit sagging, and if they were, it added to the appeal of her size, and didn't detract. Her areolas pepperoni sized and nearly invisibly pink.

He felt parched.

He rolled his face over them, latching onto the nubs with his lip or teeth, pawing at the other breast while her body rode up and down, each bounce making a fwapping noise. "Would your Violet let you do this?" She asked in a husky, excited breath.

"Never." He said between mouthfuls and suckles of her teet. Helen found great humor in that, the back of her dainty wrist attempting to stifle her laugh, her head whipping back in delight. He wasn't sure what was funny about that, but... maybe she knew about her habits and how she treated him. Violet could be so hot and cold with him, either she wanted to be as close to him as two humans can comfortably get, or she'd start pushing him away - sometimes literally, leaving him until the end of the day before she'd hold his hand on the way home from school to confirm they weren't broken up. Violet's mom was so different, so direct; it was nice to be appreciated for a change. He wasn't sure at first, but now? He wanted to be here, wishing to live between her legs... or her chest... or her ass...

There was one thing he did know: Helen Parr was the perfect woman.

"Mom! What are you doing!?" Everything stopped, even that pleasure that she seemed to be giving him numbed as Violet's mom was like a statue, relaxing against him. "Get off!"

"I am..." He couldn't believe how cold that sounded coming from her - as if completely ignoring her young daughter's pleas.

Violet reacted with disgust. "You always do this mom! First it was Tony - now him!? God!" Tony? Tony who?

Helen almost seemed to chide her daughter. "Ah, ah, ah... knowing the cock size of the boy you're gonna marry is very important..."

"Mom I'm not going to marry him just because of his... COCK size." He wasn't sure if she was embarrassed about having to acknowledge what her mother just said or just saying the word 'cock'.

"Awww, you don't want to marry him?" The mother looked down at the boy with a drunken hunger in her eyes - stroking a hand over his head. "Maybe I'll just have to be the one to do the honors..." He tried to accept her inviting look, but with Violet off in his periphery, he found it hard to do.

Then everything blurred.

An unseen force caused the mother to hurtle away from him. He watched her land in a heap on the floor, laying completely motionless except for her dress which looked like it was about to snap off, reminding him of a tanning woman on a beach, her bubble butt standing out and apart from her body; the volumetric space her ass took up alone while just aimed at the ceiling had him running calculations in his mind.

Violet then tugged him out of his gawking, as she pulled him up and off the love nest he had been perched in. "You need to get out of here." He stared slackjawed towards Vi, his pants halfway around his ankles, whose face read of a serious, urging fear. "Hurry!"

Like a fear for his safety.

Before he had even an inkling of what to say or do next, Violet was pulled - almost violently - by the nape of her neck away from him.

So then was he.

The older woman tossed him around like a well experienced python, placing him a top a love seat -- right between the legs of Violet. He tried to scramble away, and so did she - two teenagers too embarrassed to even be thinking of something like this together, yet for him, it wasn't just that. He saw that look in her eyes now, a sense of uncertainty and trauma she might associate with him and his naked presence. It was something he wanted to prevent.

Yet the matriarch wasn't having it, as her head corkscrewed above them -- a tent of flesh surrounding them, restraining them -- tight like a knot, feeling like the rubber wrap for needles around their arms and legs. Violet struggled against her human bondage, looking like she was doing aerobics with every attempt, her slim stomach pushing up with futility. "So. Violet, honey. You don't want me screwing your boyfriend? Then I want to see you make him go home happy."


"He's not going home empty handed. Got that, Vi?" Helen stripped the poor girl of her underwear, the plad skirt acting like a flap and being the only thing that separated him from seeing her young flower. Helen's spidery fingers worked back the frock, as Violet looked understandably shocked. Her wide eyed expression searching for a way out, and he wished she could look at him with confidence that he wasn't going to do anything... god, her eyes. How could she try and hide those beautiful, large and expressive eyes from the world behind those dark curtains? He knew it was the draw that lead him to her.

Now it was the straw that was gonna break him.

He had softened in the interim, but not for long, as just looking at her got him going again. She was completely hairless, smooth and the slit was closed together and virginal, almost puffy, and not at all exposed like her moms. Clambering up, he covered her lower half, bowing down to those tiny mosquito bites with the same color of her mothers, offering them timid licks at first, then sucking on them like when Violet gave him a hickey. "Stop..." He felt her weak slaps against the back of his neck, and he closed his eyes and pretended she was... there was nothing he could pretend it was.

His hips prodded the poor girl fruitlessly. Maybe that good part of himself was intentionally trying not to enter Violet? "Well aren't you just the eager little beaver? Don't worry, I've seen this before..." He felt her hand on his shaft again, guiding him properly. "Let mama handle this..." As if searching for a wedding ring down a sink, her expression changed as soon as they touched. He did what came natural and moved to penetrate Violet. She tried to skitter back from him, but despite her best efforts, her mother kept her in place. Helen looked down at him with a smirk, and despite what he had done with Mrs. Parr, this felt like his real first time, but under the spotlight, he felt... nervous.

"Please. You don't have to do this."

"But I want to..." He pierced Violet.

Violet writhed under him with a whine as he steered into her. Once docked, he started sawing; his movements slow and impactful. Violet's head would hiccup in tandem everytime he thrusted, still with that same, open mouthed, shock/surprise she had when he first started, but Violet's focus turned from him and back to her mother, as they locked eyes with one another, Helen now caressing the young girls flush face. "It only hurts the first time, Violet." Which did little to comfort her, as Violet tried to regain her breath.

The boy was now moving in a way he never thought he'd move, his spastic thrusts colliding with the young girls inner walls so hard that he was hurting her, signified by the tears that would roll down as he slammed into her. He wanted to stop... no, he was lying, he couldn't stop himself even if he wanted. He tried to concentrate only on Violet, but she was always there; Helen peered over them like some demented and lustful jack in the box, her tongue curled up near her nostril, enjoying every second of watching her young daughter getting fucked. Mrs. Parr had jammed her fingers deep between her legs, shlicking her folds with absolute fury, sometimes inserting them or rubbing her pussy mound clockwise, seemingly trying to find the balance between her own world and keeping up with the action.

But maybe just her hand wasn't good enough...

"Mind if I cut in you two?" Her hamhock of a thigh passed them both, coming down with such weight that he half expected its landing to be thunderous like the weather outside when it landed. She sat and smothered Violet, and he genuinely was worried that Helen would suffocate her, and her daughter agreed, as Violet's child-like hands drummed against the cheeks of Helen - but what was he supposed to do? Say 'Get off my girlfriends face while I fuck her in peace!' Not that he would, as he didn't actually have a problem with Helen essentially mooning him, and he kinda wanted to rest his face on it...

While riding her daughters face, Helen turned to him, her sideboob, chin and face in profile. "Would you mind?" She then gaped herself open for him - and it was just like he imagined: The cigarette burn shaped hole was pink and inviting, dark tissue between two pale globes, as the ridge shaped opening looked like it swallowed for air. He dove deep into it; the smell of the surrounding skin was intense, but not overpowering. The taste of the pink orifice was earthy, but not disgusting, as it flexed like a powerful muscle around his tongue; he breathed in even deeper, nearly collapsing.

Relishing in Mrs. Parr's ass didn't fully distract him, as this was the second opportunity today in which he had the chance to seed the luscious field of a Parr family girl, but the talk earlier had him wary, and he was wanting to do it on Violet's smooth belly... but he just couldn't pull himself out to make it actually happen. As soon as his tongue lapsed and he pulled away to finish with Violet, Helen's head zig zagged back and around, coming back towards him in stopping paces, headbutting his stomach and out of Violet. "As much as I'd like to see it--I just can't let you cum inside my daughter."

He was about to complain when Helen vacuumed him in. He thought he devoured her ass, but she took him to the hilt. He held her chestnut brown hair and head to his groin as tightly as he held her ass. On one hand, it kind of freaked him out how detatched it felt... on the other, it was a hungry, warm, mouth, with a swirling tongue and nice red lips wanting his release. On top of all her slurping, she was licking the underside of his scrote. He didn't last long and sprayed deep down her throat. He let go finally, tired, as she floated her head up to eye level. She then opened her lips, revealing sticky cob webs that stuck to the roof of her mouth and broke apart, as she gave a thorough swish of her tongue around each side of the white substance before ingesting it. "That's quite the build up you had there."

Then clarity hit him:

Vi was a teary eyed mess. Miss Parr was an elongated demon out for semen. And he...

He wasn't sure what to think.


More homework and a bad grade.

That's what he got for napping during Mr. Horshbourne's class. There was no attempt to make up some excuse, he just apologized and took it. How could you even start THAT conversation - even if he wanted to?

The sun beat him down like he owed it milk money as he pushed open the double doors and stepped out onto the quad, walking over to those newly installed dining tables that were socketed into the ground, passing friends and well wishers, everyone just as white as he was (thank god)

Violet was already eating by herself, or at least picking at it, part of her palm pressed into her face. His hands found their way into his pockets as he kicked the turf. "So... things got weird last night, huh?"

"H'ooooh yeaaaah..." The delivery was shaky, but the message was clear: Besides her mom, he was the last person she wanted to chat with.

If he didn't keep talking, this was going to go nowhere fast. "Come on, Violet..."

"There's nothing I can say, okay? You're gonna leave me, just like Tony did..." Ah, the classic curt Violet. He knew that response.

He folded his arms. "You've got to give me more credit than that; we both went through it together, right?"

An eye of hers met him through her hair. "Yeah..."

"Then you know I cheated, I know you cheated - no biggy - water under the bridge - so you know..." He wiped the back of his head. "We should... do something after school..." He almost left it at that, but jumped back in with an addendum. "Not at your house."

She was leaving him hanging again, but he was willing to wait this time. "Sure." He snapped his finger her way while confirming it with an 'alright'.

Despite what happened, sticking with Violet seemed like the right thing to do

After all, she'll probably start looking like Helen in a few years...

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