The Centre of Attention

The school day was over.

Joey slammed his locker shut, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. The weight of it barely registered. Just a few books, some loose papers, a couple of pens. He didn't have any homework. Even if he did, Joey suspected that he wouldn't be doing any of it that evening. Homework was the last thing on his mind.

In fact, if you were to ask Joey Granger about his day, his classes, the lessons his teachers had given, he would be hard pressed to remember any of them. Not for the usual reasons that he forgot his school days, feeling anxious, feeling distracted, feeling lost. No, that day Joey's mind was very focussed, just not on schoolwork.

"Dude," Tim Nottingham whispered in one class, "I heard you hooked up with Madison. Way to go!"

"Hey Casanova," Mateo Rosales whispered in another, "Heads up, I heard Aynsley Cho's got her eye on you. Don't let Madison find out!"

"Nice going," Martin Garnier whispered, "I didn't think you had it in you, Granger. Way to prove me wrong."

Tim Nottingham, Mateo Rosales, and Martin Garnier. Three guys Joey had been in school with for his entire life. Three guys who had never spoken to Joey before that day.

Joey's life had changed.

And he felt it.

Turning away from his locker, he saw them. Madison and Aynsley. The catalysts of his sudden popularity, the reason that guys had started high fiving him in the hallway. The reason girls had started looking at him with new eyes. Joey was still the same young man, skinny, short, quiet, but to the other students at South Point High he had become something else. Something desirable.

They were both radiant in their own way as they strode toward him. Madison, with waves of silky dirty blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, her pleated skirt swaying just enough to tease at the edges of what lay beneath. Aynsley, with her dark, shining hair, her soft curves hugged by her fitted sweater, her shorts a touch shorter than school dress code probably allowed.

Madison reached him first, pressing herself against him like she belonged there, her arm slipping through his. "Hey you," she purred, her lips curving in a satisfied smirk before planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Aynsley was just a second behind, looping her arm through his other one, resting her fingers lightly on his bicep, her nails grazing his skin in a way that sent a tiny shiver down his spine. "Hi, Joey," she murmured, her voice softer but no less possessive, planting a kiss on the other side.

Joey exhaled slowly, his pulse steady but strong. Their weight against him, their warmth, their perfume, the way they both leaned in like he was the center of their universe, he could feel it changing him. He was starting to feel like the kind of guy who had things like that happen to him. Like, perhaps, he deserved it.

Of course he knew that wasn't true. The affection that Madison and Aynsley felt toward him, although real to them, was false in so many ways. He had planted it there with just a few misplaced words. He'd tried to fix it, reverse it, but it was no use. Once planted, the changes stayed. They were permanent.

And so, one beautiful girl on one arm, one on the other, Joey took a deep breath and smiled. If there was no fighting it, he might as well enjoy it.

For years, he had watched guys like Logan Kincaid or Terry Redbone walk these halls with a girl draped over them, basking in their attention, their admiration. Those guys had always had everything; looks, charm, confidence came to them naturally, like walking or breathing.

For Joey, it had all been out of reach.

Until now.

And the crazy part? He wasn’t just getting the girl.

He was getting two.

Madison leaned in closer, her breasts crushing into his thin bicep, "Let's hang out tonight."

"Yeah," Aynsley added, her voice dipping a little lower, "Just the three of us."

Joey was no idiot. He knew what kind of opportunity that was, what the girls were offering, how far he could take it. He knew it would happen eventually, and that he would have to make a decision about what their relationship would ultimately look like. He had thought about it all afternoon, ignoring the lectures of his teachers, trying to suppress the stirring of his nether regions. With both girls thinking that they'd be lucky to have a guy like him, it wouldn't be long before they tried to seal the deal.

"Sure," he answered without a moment of hesitation.

Yes, Joey felt guilty. And yes, he knew that he should resist.

But feeling Madison and Aynsley so close, inhaling their scent, sensing their eagerness... Joey was no longer thinking with his brain.

Madison grinned, her fingers squeezing his arm possessively. "Good answer."

Aynsley’s giggle was quiet but full of something conspiratorial, like they had just locked him into something, like they'd had it planned, "Told you he'd say yes."

Joey grinned, shaking his head slightly. This was insane.

From down the hall, he caught movement. Nick.

His friend stood there, mouth slightly open, watching the scene unfold like he was witnessing an actual glitch in the universe. When he noticed Joey looking, he shook his head in exaggerated disbelief before flashing two massive thumbs-ups.

Joey smirked, giving him a quick nod.

Then the three of them moved, strolling through the hall like they owned it.

People stared.

They weren’t just looking; they were whispering, stealing glances, nudging their friends. A group of juniors by the lockers stopped mid-conversation as they passed, their eyes flicking from Madison to Aynsley to him. One guy muttered something under his breath, and his friend let out a low whistle.

It was the kind of attention that would have previously been panic inducing. But Joey, instead, took it in stride, allowing their attentiveness to soak into him. It wasn't judgement, as he'd felt so many times before. It was admiration.

Maybe this was his life now.

Maybe things would actually start to be better.

They stepped outside, the sun washing over them, warm and bright. The air was thick with the scent of hot pavement and fresh-cut grass.

Madison’s grip on his arm stayed firm. Aynsley’s fingers brushed lightly against his wrist.

The three of them descended the steps, slow and easy.

"Joey!"

His stomach clenched. He knew that voice.

Turning, already half-dreading what he would see, Joey felt the world begin to drop out from under him.

Standing by her car, looking as polished as ever, was his mother. Her white blouse crisp, the navy skirt hugging her in a way that made something in his brain short-circuit, the heels that gave her an effortless poise. She wasn’t just standing there—she was posing, her hip slightly cocked, her smile knowing.

And beside her...

Bianca.

The waitress from the restaurant. The woman who had been texting him. Whom he had been ignoring. Whom he had hoped would just go away.

She looked good. Too good. Like she had stepped straight out of some kind of fantasy he hadn’t even let himself admit he’d had. Her dark waves cascaded over her shoulders, a tight skirt and blouse that reminded him of his mother's outfit, with the exception of the cavernous cleavage she had on display. She smiled, lips glossy, eyes gleaming with something sharp, something almost hungry.

Joey’s stomach twisted.

More of his changes. More of his mistakes. What had been meant to be a simple experiment had left both women viewing themselves in a way that he felt more than a little ashamed. It was bad enough that Joey had warped this innocent waitress into someone who seemed hellbent to objectify herself for him, but his mother? His own mother? To change her into someone who would sneak into his room in the middle of the night and... well...

He should feel guilty.

And he did feel guilty.

But underneath? Deep down? Beneath the veneer of morality and self-image?

There was something else.

His mother lifted a hand, gesturing for him to come over.

Joey swallowed hard.

Madison and Aynsley had noticed. Their grips on his arms loosened slightly, their eyes flicking from him to the two women waiting by the car. Aynsley shifted, her fingers brushing against his hand.

"Who’s that?"

But before he could answer...

"Joey."

Another voice.

Softer. More urgent.

He turned. Eliza. Miss Matthews. His history teacher. The woman who had given him all of her possessions, her apartment. His... well... Joey didn't know how to define their relationship. Another victim of his words, another fountain of affection.

She stood a few feet away, watching him with a tight, worried expression.

An image popped into Joey's mind. Eliza Matthews in nothing but a black silk nightie. It was no fantasy, it was a memory. He had seen it. If he were to describe it to his friends, none would believe him. It was one thing to have Madison and Aynsley both fall for him, but Miss Matthews? It was beyond reason.

"We need to talk," she said, then her eyes darted to Madison and Aynsley, "In private."

Before he could respond, though, there was movement behind him. Bianca and his mother were no longer by the car. Most likely noting the three women speaking to him, they had begun to make their way to join the conversation. And the closer they got, the more their smiles faded. Their eyes zeroed in on Madison and Aynsley, their arms wrapped around him, their hands on him like they belonged there.

Bianca’s lips pressed into a thin line. Donna’s eyes darkened, her jaw tightening. They weren’t just coming over; they were coming for them. When they reached the group, Donna’s voice cut through the air, sharp and demanding.

"Joey, who are these girls?"

Madison didn’t even hesitate. She lifted her chin, her grip on Joey’s arm tightening possessively.

"We’re his girlfriends."

Aynsley’s fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against his wrist, and she gave the two older women a small, knowing smile.

The tension snapped tight. Joey could feel the shift. Bianca’s nostrils flared. Donna’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. Their gazes flicked from Joey to Madison to Aynsley, their anger barely contained.

He knew that look. He'd seen it in the eyes of girls at school for years, but never aimed at him. It was always for the popular guys, for the hot guys. Not for people like Joey Granger.

Possessiveness.

Jealousy.

He had changed them, twisted their worldview, their self-image.

And now?

Now Bianca and his mother were looking at Madison and Aynsley as if they were competition.

A familiar, sickening anxiety began to crawl up Joey’s spine. This was about to become a scene. People would notice. The way Donna squared her shoulders, the way Bianca’s lips parted like she was about to say something...

He needed to get out of there.

His old instinct of running away, shrinking to hide, wanting to disappear began to take hold. What was different this time, though, were the two girls holding him tight from either side. Joey, for the first time in his life, didn't feel alone in his fear.

"Seriously, Joey," Eliza said again, louder this time. Then, as if realizing she was losing control of the situation, she added, "I mean Mister Granger. We need to have a few words."

Joey’s breath hitched.

"I need to see you inside."

"I think that would be prudent," Joey's mother said, crossing her arms, sounding as cross as he'd ever heard her, "Maybe we should all go inside and have a few words. It seems that there are a few things that need to be cleared up."

The entire world felt like it had just closed in around him.