Mary Contrary

"May...be," Hal began reciting in soulless monotone (sounded cut straight out of a drunk audio CD), "...no... way?"

"What?!"

Curman slapped his forehead, then sliced the air in front of his throat. Shooting daggers at him with his eyes, Hal tried again, ignoring the impending fist to the head Bombardi was about to provide, free of charge.

"No, wait. I meant, may... we... go! Yeah," Hal shifted his eyes back to the grisly gym teacher's face and nonchalantly repeated, "May we go, Mr. Bombardi, you prick?"

Now the fist seemed to swell into a human boulder. "What did you say?

Another slap to the forehead. Hal wondered if Curman needed a fly swatter. Concurrently, waving away his apprehender's breath, he turned his face upward to see the man glaring through him as if lasers were equipped to shoot out, and expected brimstone with 50% chance of hailing fire. Then, expending a quick twist of the lip, the teacher finally let go of his neck, tossing him against the wall.

"Fine." He nudged the slob's chest with a finger. "You and your friend could go. But if I catch you late again, for whatever excuse, you're going to be sorry, you hear?" Hal just circled his jaw, slightly intrigued by the turn of events, as Mr. Bombardi straightened and turned to leave. "Oh," he paused. "And... you're right, sometimes I can be a prick. But you're just going to have to get used to it." He scowled backwards at Hal. "Now get going before I change my mind!"

And down the corner and out of view he went.

A hand landed on Hal's shoulder. Hal turned, and his lips twisted into a sharp frown. Curman, the bugger, putting words in his mouth like --

"It... it worked!"

Well, his 'friend' was worked up. Hal scoffed. "Yeah, the tightass better run."

"No, you ape," the slim boy stepped back, a look appearing in his eye that seemed different from just the usual spectator fill, or affected auto-pilot he so often displayed. No, this was animated, at least moreso than Hal could have ever recently recalled. "When you asked him if we could go, the both of us, he did it!"

"Yeah, and?"

"Because you used the word! Because you used 'may'!" A risque flare transitioned through his eyes for a frame. "Apparently, I still... I still feel normal. With the same train of thought, and thought pattern. I admit," his lips turned for what Hal could only assume was what one of his grins looked like, "it was a risky move. But my predictions were correct. By using the 'we' pronoun while knowingly referring to myself with you, the trigger treated both you and I as constants."

This was exciting information for Curman. Hal, however, had promptly zoned out, staring at a fly smacking its head against a nearby pole.

"This is it." Nod. "This is real." Upon a sudden memory. Curman looked back, fixing his gaze onto the blonde girl. She had been forgotten, apparently, left by steroid-abuser to idle in the boys' company for a full minute. "You," the black-haired boy asked, "what's your name?"

"Who, me?" She blushed, casting a shy glance downward. "I'm... Mary."

"Mary -- "

"Nice name." Hal butted in, eyes glued back to her tits.

"Mary," Curman continued, ignoring him, "what did you think of what just transpired?"

"Um," she started after an awkward pivot away from Hal's gaze, then realized he was asking about what had happened, "well, your... friend -- "

"Hal."

"Yeah, Hal. It looks like they got some history, don't they?" She gently laughed.

"That's right, ever since Hal dumped cow manure into his office freshman year." He persisted, "But how about how he let us go? Especially after all that ruckus he made about bringing Hal to his class. Pretty bold reversal, wasn't it?"

"Well, why wouldn't he let you guys go?" the blonde girl furrowed a brow. The she added, as if with all the sense to reinforce her, "After all, he was... kind of a prick."

"Holy shit," Curman muttered.

"Hahaha," burst Hal, "I like this hottie!"

Mary frowned.

Unbeknownst to her, however, and pitifully even Hal, probably, the campus, still mostly empty with early morning torpor, at that moment, became a festival of opportunity. Of selective picking. Of dashing and dancing, and if the one who had opened such floodgates didn't know it, then Curman did.

That still fresh twinkle in his eye, the inconspicuous-looking teen slid over to Hal, enveloping the two in a conspiratorial air. Whisper-whisper, floundered one tongue into the other's ear. A couple seconds later, and Hal looked back at him. Curman nodded.

Another second tocked. Hal looked at him again. The answer was a reprise.

"If you say so, Bumboy." Hal turned to Mary, and walked up to her. His expression was one of a food inspector in the fanciest restaurant after a day of gang-ridden junk products, and it was more than obvious where his eyes were ogling. Mary tried guarding her chest from his view. "Hey, Mary."

"What do you want?" The girl just glared at him softly.

"I was wondering, can -- "

"Hal," Curman interjected. He was taking out a pair of earphones, plugged into an MP3 player. Hal stared listlessly at him.

He turned back to Mary, and, with one darting glance at her breasts, continued, "Alright. Lemme try that again. I only meant to ask you one reasonable, polite thing. Oh miss Mary the Blonde Hottie." A reticence seemed to take over Hal. However, after one overly long pause, he finally spoke up, straight at her gaze-meeting face. "May I look at your tits? I mean, your tits are just so watchable! Like fuck, I'd apologize, but then I'd be contradicting myself! And if there's one thing Hal Boon never does, it's contra-fucking-dict!"

Watching from behind, Curman raised the volume of his MP3 player while the blonde girl sighed and relaxed her arms over her abdomen.

"How could I be so inconsiderate," she lent an apologetic look to Hal as she placed her hands on her hips and actually pushed forward her chest, even if by a minor arch. "Yes, you can look at them. I know it's just... too hard to resist for people like you," she laughed nervously as Hal proceeded to do just that.

While Hal, in his shock, obliged, Curman unplugged his earphones and strode to his side. "Wait," the hairy teen muttered, eyes sharply turning serious. "Could it be... it's just like Bumboy fucking said..?"

"Yes," Curman just nodded, as Mary continued with her unprotected display of her upper chest area, right in front of an eye-boggled Hal. He was finally getting it. He was finally, as-late-as-a-leaf-in-spring, fiddling with Pandora's lock. "It's exactly like I said." Plugging his earphones back in and tucking them into his ears, he shouted, "Now the next one!"

Hal turned back Mary and her still jutting chest. She timorously shifted her neck forward to look at Hal. Her expression appeared to ask him what else it was he wanted, and he answered bluntly.

"Your breasts."

"Yeah," Mary nodded. "You can look at them as long as you need to. It's not a problem."

"Touch them." Hal shook himself out of it. "May I touch your--your jugs, lady-lumps, porcelain tit twins!? Can I?"

"That's," began the girl before Hal swiftly corrected himself. She loosened, temples de-compressing. "...sure, yeah. They're right in front of you, anyway, right?"

Before the rhetorical question had completed its way out of her mouth, her breasts were pummeled by the palm of a hand that probably would have never expected to be there by authorized admission. But there they were, on soft planets of flesh.

"Oof!" She winced, but in the spirit the other two were now familiar with, shook it off with a light laugh, "Kinda -- erm -- kinda rough, aren't ya?"

"Don't you worry about that," Hal grinned, and looked at her with a hungry appraisal. "These tits are so rockin' I just couldn't fucking help myself!"

"Oh, certainly," Mary closed one eye, while her breasts were steadily mauled by Hal below. "I believe you. Or that you believe that, at least." Her left breast was being squeezed while her right was being pushed and mounted like a roll of dough. She took it patiently, not wanting to disturb Hal from his explorations of her torso's most prominent features. "But.. I think I do have to get to the office, soon. So..."

"Of course, he's about done, anyway." Curman pulled Hal back, to the latter's anger. He didn't notice as the boy slipped something into his pocket. "Please, I'll escort you. After all, Mr. Bombardi asked me. Hal, you should get to class."

"Curman, hey." He glared. "I was kind of in the middle of something, there!"

However, Curman didn't seem to hear him. He pointed at his ear, and the buds in them, and winked. "Sorry, man, jamming out right now. Don't worry, just remember what I told you, alright? You can do more of this, with anybody, than you even know. Just meet me after school. Then we'll discuss our future plans -- both about this, and the Penelope thing. See ya on the other side!"

"Um--"

"Let's go, Mary. I think we could get to know the other a little while we're at it."

Hal watched Curman trod off, his feet rapid as ever, yet still coolly driven, with his newest fondle-fest now out of his presence more quickly than you could say "porcelain tits". Why did he have to put up with that walking toothpick anyway? Wouldn't he also be at his mercy with this supposed 'may' thing?

Scoffing, Hal spun around and headed class-ward. Who was he kidding; he wasn't even worth his time. Besides, he somewhat needed the guy, if they were going to crack this plan out on Penelope and her entitled brothers. Hal would hold back for now, but only because his brain was a valuable asset, and didn't need any screw-ups.

A bird squawked in the distance.

Was it all true, though?

"That I can get the permission," Hal murmured, looking at the sky with a leer, "to do anything I want..?"

As he steered himself towards the first class of the day, replete with his hot teacher and class-ful of boring students and a cutie or two, he suddenly realized there was a day chock full of possibilities now before him. Gina could eat what she said about girls being easy sluts with a brief word. The teacher's assistant can be made a little more lenient on her grading rubric. Hell, the teacher herself can do with some attention... or rather, a special kind of detention, particularly after the crap she made Hal sit through last month.

He felt a minor knot in his stomach.

There was just one problem.

Hal hated asking for things.

"How can I be so inconsiderate? Yes, of course you can look at them..."

Scraping the pretty image of Mary's face and casual response from his mind, his steps continued to echo through the partially open hall.

He muttered assorted whatever's as birds chirped through a bundle of treetops. Sometimes you just had to meet things halfway.

With his hands still tingling at his side, he had to agree that if nothing else, one thing made that true.

And that, of course, was Mary's tits, which were indeed, above and out the park, wholly worth meeting -- halfway or otherwise.