Unfinished and most probably nixed colaboration work.
this was a colaborative story that i and my closest friend were working on for a bit. i'd write until i hit a writer's block, e-mail the file back to her, and she'd write till she hit a block, and back and forth this thing went. we tried to write it in such a way that it flowed seamlessly between two writers with massively and drastically different styles of writing. for the longest time, this was titled "The Return." ALL of the secondary characters are based off of people we knew, and it did use their real names. (though, i have gone through and changed the names to protect the innocent. any real names left behind... well, we didn't like those people much anyway lol.) the personalities and relationships are purely fictional.
The Return is about a 19 transexual male who had moved out of his hometown during highschool. he has had quite a sucessful life, but the death of a close friend and mentor draws him back to the town that he feels stole his childhood. he reconnects with old friends, however they don't realize that he used to be the tomboy girl they all knew and cared about... though when the topic comes up, or when clues are revealed, he neither confirms nor denies the truth about his past.
Note: There ARE discrepencies and major plot holes. keep in mind that this work has been written not by one author but by two, and as such there are flaws. we might come back and work on this story again someday, though it is unlikely. hypothetically, if we do, then i'll take this version down, publish the better, less flawed one, and you can see what happens after the point where we left off. n.n
and now, on to the story...
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The Return
I've been away for a while. So much has changed in this place I once called home. To most, four
years isn't such a long time. But when I look back now, I realize how much of a kid I'd been. Sure, now I'm only
19, still considered one of the young ones.
I was lucky. I got out. This is the second time I've been back. The first was just a visit to relatives. I
was still in high school then. Oh, it must have been two years back. By that time it felt as if I was a stranger to
this place.
Now, I'm just an alien.
But this place, it draws us back in. If you don't get out soon enough, it takes hold on you. It eats
away at you until you finally give in and return. I know how it works... you can leave, but you come back. You
always come back. Your youth spent trapped in this desolate wasteland until at last, it releases you. But by then
it is already too late. Your life is over, or ruined, or worse, ended.
I stopped at a light that was never here before. I took this moment to check the directions, scrawled
on a soiled napkin from a Waffle House on exit 59. I didn't need to. I knew the back roads that had been
untouched by the sudden burst of urbanization. It would be slower, but I could turn now and take them to my
destination.
At the last moment, I jerked the wheel of my car, swerving into the turn lane. Shit, I didn't realize this
was my turn. Horns blared, but I didn't care as my Honda Civic shot forth and leapt into traffic. My jaw
squared, I gunned it. A pot-hole jostled my car, my engine whinned. The old junk heap for a moment lost
control when I'd made it through. A mailbox took out my passenger side mirror. It now dangled by a thin black
wire.
I'll pull into the next gas station. Buy a roll of duct tape.
Yeah, I've been gone long enough to forget this place has a habit of breaking everything apart.
I laughed at my own stupidity, my heart slowing as I reached for the radio. The only station I could
remember was 96.4 FM. It was rock, though not of the sort I cater to. At least it was something other than the
country bumpkin and bible thumpin that was on every other station my piece of shit picked up.
I slammed on the breaks suddenly, checking my rearview mirror. Good, there isn't anyone behind
me. With a pull of the lever, I kicked the old scrap in reverse. A few pastures backwards, and I found the
driveway. It was strange, seeing a farm again. This hidden acclove, tucked safely off the main road. It was one
of the few places where time stood still.
The mirror swung as concrete turned to gravel, then at last to a beaten dirt path. I was amused by a
few cows here and there in the fields that ran alongside me on both sides. Before long, I could see the house. A
small one story place. A single car parked out front, surrounded by a hoarde of trucks. Trucks of the sort that
one would see in the parking lot at a Nascar race. I paid this no mind as I pulled in beside a mini-van tucked off
to the side near what appeared to be a shed.
I turned off the radio, then the air conditioning. When I opened the door, the old Gerogia heat hit me
like a semi, and for a moment I felt disoriented. I grasped the door for support as I caught my breath. I was used
to high temperatures, having spent the last four years of my life in Florida. But at least there, it rained and
lessened the intensity. Here, it was just humid. Sweat already forming on my brow, I regretted wearing my best
jeans and a black t-shirt.
I hit the locks and shut the door, wiping my face with arm before making my way to the front porch.
I could see them gathered around the door. Others sitting on the rail or the bench swing. Most of them sat in
silence, a glass of iced tea in hand.
A few faces turned to me, but none spoke a word in my direction.
I gave them a small nod. I'd already missed the main event of the day. I knew I had just by the looks
of the others. Dirt dusted on the bottoms of trousers and skirts. I looked around for a certain face.
I found her when she passed one of the windows inside. Carefully making my way through the
congregation, I managed to get to the door. Slowly, I gave a few taps on the metal frame of the screen door.
"Mrs. H?" I ventured calmly.
A younger woman answered the door. "I'm sorry," she said. "Diane doesn't want to see anyone right
now."
I nodded my understanding and turned to go back down the porch, wait in the shade of a tree away
from the others before they took notice of me.
At my back, I heard "Who was at the door?" in an old woman's soft voice.
"I don't know, I've never seen him before," she replied.
I glanced over my shoulder. She was close to the door, the younger woman trying to get the older to
go back into the living room. I turned around again, and returned to the screen door. "Mrs. H," I said.
She smiled and her eyes lit up. The younger woman stood in dumbfoundment as her elder got past.
She opened the door quickly. "Come in, come in," she said in forced cheer.
I nodded, and pulled a travel size pack of Kleenex from my pocket. I opened it and pulled out two,
giving one to her and keeping one to wipe my face.
She led me to the living room, and offered me a seat. She sat down, her back to the window as I sat
on the brown, red, and orange plaid couch. "I'm sorry for your loss," I said without thinking. She nodded and
dabbed at her eyes.
"You were always one of his favorites," she said with a forced smile.
"I'm sorry for just dropping by... I'd meant to attend the service, but I didn't find out until yesterday
morning," I said.
Again, she nodded. The younger brought me a glass of iced tea. I took a sip and wrinkled my nose.
It was bitter. Another thing I'd forgotten about this place. Most of the tea was either liquid sugar or almost
lemonade. I set my glass down on a coaster. "He was a good man," I said, then followed with, "And a better
teacher."
She again nodded, rocking gently in her rocking chair. I could tell she was ready to cry again. I
reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. My hand found easily in the old leather thing a scrap of paper.
It was yellowed with time and marred by sweat and rain. I carefully unfolded it and laid it out on the coffee table.
"I still have the haiku he wrote for me when I left."
She smiled, and I knew this time it was sincere. "Even though we have kids of our own, and even
they have kids now, he was never as proud of them as he had been with you. His little samurai."
We laughed at our private joke.
I heard a whisper from the window, but I forced my attention from it.
Me and the old woman spent the afternoon in her living room. Crying, laughing, talking of good
times. We spoke in soft, almost silent voices when we began catching up, telling of what happened to each of us,
as well as the Old Man, after we had said farewell.
At last, night was falling. Mosquitos and fireflies took to the air in force. I finished off the glass of tea
I had been nursing all afternoon. I rose. I said farewell. I gave the old woman a gentle, but warm embrace. She
cried on my shoulder, and thanked me for coming, even though I'd missed the service. She said just seeing me
showed her that her husband had made a difference in the world. That people still cared, not because he was
well known in this small town, but because he had made an impact on others that ran deeper than just word of
mouth.
I gave her another hug at the door before stepping out onto the porch. I'd gone all evening without a
cigarette. My head was throbbing from the nicotine fit. I stopped at the bottom step and lit up one of my Doral
reds. Most of the others had left, stopping by a window or the door to say their goodbyes. There now remained
only the mini-van, the car, two trucks, and my dark blue Civic.
I was met at my car by a young woman and a man. At first, they were hessitant to speak. So I
spoke first, it was only the polite thing to do. "Hello," I said.
"Hi," the young woman replied. Her deep accent was strange to me. I hadn't heard such a thing for
so long with the exception of the old woman.
The young man said nothing. I smiled and brushed my blue hair back and tucked it behind my ear.
"It's getting late," I said.
"Yeah," she replied. She smiled back at me. The young man whispered in her ear. I started to pull
my keys from my pocket. She stopped me with a few words. "How did you know him?" she asked.
"He was a close friend," I replied, unlocking my door.
And that was the end of it.
I spent the night in the local Holiday Inn at the edge of town. It was already late, and I didn't feel that
I should wake my grandmother to let me in the door.
The next morning, I woke around five or so, and it was still quite dark outside.
When I'd finished with my shower and got dressed, it was somewhere around six. Not wanting to
torture my stomach with the traditional Continental Breakfast, I gathered my things and returned the key to the
front desk. I paid my bill, and I left.
After a brief breakfast at the nearest Waffle House, I looked up the number for the high school in the
phone book. I made an appointment with the principal for 11:30 before calling my grandmother to tell her I was
in town. That I'd need a place to stay for a while. She asked why, I just said I wanted to visit. I could hear my
brother in the background.
She asked me how my mother was doing. I said she was fine. It wasn't a lie, not entirely. She was
fine the last time I had seen her about ten months ago. I cut the conversation short, and said I'd see her around
four, and that I'd be joining her and my cousins for dinner.
She said okay, and that she loved me, and we hung up.
I still had a few hours left to kill, so I sought out some of my old haunts and neighborhoods. I'd lived
in almost every part of this town at one point in my younger days. I drove past my childhood home, which now
was white. When we moved, it was still the ugly bright red that haunts most of my nightmares. Across town, I
took a tour of the appartment complex I once lived in. I knew the rates here, I knew the cost of utilities. I
stopped by the office and signed a lease for a one bedroom appartment in one of the end buildings before
moving on. I'd already had everything here set up for my arrival when I pulled onto the highway after a brief meal
at exit 59. I just had to sign the paperwork, provide proof of existence and a valid work record (to prove that I
could pay my bills) and I was ready to move on.
I took a slow drive through the last place I had lived here. A large neighborhood with those new
commercial houses. I drove even slower around the bend where I had once lived; the ugly yellow house with the
black mailbox. The siding was white now, but I knew better. I could see from the road that my father's old yuca
plant still grew in the back yard.
I smiled at it. It looked like a marajuana plant. Briefly, I wondered if the house's new owners
realized what it really was.
I drove on. It was getting late in the morning by now, so I made my way back across town, back to
that same four lane road that my new appartment was on. My appointment was soon, and I'd dressed rather
decently for it when I awoke this morning.
I arrived five minutes early, and waited in the lobby. I read one of the old issues of some scholastic
magazine. Yes, this was only late July, but even now summer school was still in progress, and would be until the
end of the week.
I met with the principal at the appointed time. At first, I could tell he assumed he had been played as
a fool, even after I approached him and shook his hand. Obviously, my blue hair wasn't making any friends here
today. Once we were in his office, I explained my purpose for wanting to meet with him on such short notice. I
provided him with a folder, listing my credentials, my degrees. All of the important things one must have to teach.
By the time we were through, around 2 or so, I could tell he was impressed with me. He said he
would contact the school board. He said he would push to have me approved in time to begin on the first day of
school.
I thanked him, and shook his hand once more before departing.
I still had a few hours before it would be time to go to my grandmother's. I decided to kill the time
by taking the back roads, to bask for a while in nostalgia before finally returning to civilization.
My brother greeted me at the door. My grandmother had a doctor's appointment. My aunt had
gone with her. At first, he did not want to let me in. He said I was lying, and that he would call the police if I
didn't leave. It took me some convincing, but he eventually allowed me entry.
He was uneasy, and would not speak to me, despite the fact that until now, he would always talk to
me online. I had expected this sort of reaction. I was used to it by now. I broke the ice by asking him how our
grandmother had been doing lately.
In the back of my mind, I was actually amazed he had not been told about me at all. I had assumed
my mother had told everyone about what I had done. But, it seemed she missed at least one ear. My
grandmother came in with the help of my aunt around six. Dinner tonight was going to be late. I told her not to
worry herself over it. I could help fix something.
She smiled warmly at me and told me not to worry. After supper, we talked, we caught up. I
apologized to her for just showing up, and for not calling her as much as I should. I knew that part was all my
own fault. I knew she wasn't too happy with me, all things considered. But not once did she scold me (other than
for not calling) nor did she say anything unkind. She's always been like that. But I don't blame her for it. It was
the era she grew up in. Back then, whites were white. Blacks were black. Men were men, and women were
women.
We had hot dogs and chilli for dinner. I spent the night next door at my other aunt's house in her
spare bedroom. One my elder cousin was interrested in the sort of work I did and my life in general. Her sister
was a downright bitch. But she's certified insane, so I didn't say much about it until she had gone to sleep.
I spent the week familiarizing myself with the town, rediscovering places I'd forgotten completely.
Wandering around the historic downtown area. Buying furniture for my new appartment.
My elder cousin helped me with the interrior decorating, since back in college that had been her
major. Had it not been for her condition, she would currently be working in Atlanta for a high profile company.
Even though she didn't ask, I paid her very well for her work. Unlike most people, I didn't treat her like a
cripple. I let her handle everything she could on her own, and what she couldn't, I let her figure out how to take
care of it herself. In my experience, I've found it's always best not to treat anyone special unless it is necessary.
She didn't want to take the check, but I told her if she didn't, I'd ask her mother for a deposit slip
and put it in her account myself. She laughed, and when she realized I was serious, she took the check.
At the end of the week, I'd finished setting myself up, and moved in. I phoned some of my friends in
Florida, and told them to pack up what I had down there and bring it to me. I would reimburse them for their
trouble. After much convincing, they agreed.
On the third day of August, they arrived with my things, most of which were promptly placed in
storage. The smaller things came inside. That same day, I received a call from the county school board. I was to
come the next day to meet with one of the officials for a more standard interview. I knew it was just procedure. I
already had the job I wanted.
I celebrated that night with a few beers and video games with my friends. Most of them went to a
motel. Two of them stayed. We had sex in my room, then ate a late dinner. Afterwards, we went to sleep.
I woke up the next morning, showered, and made breakfast. We ate, and they left. I had a cigarette
on my way over. It was just a few streets to the county school board office. I met with one of the board
members. He told me what I already knew. I was to go on over to the school, just two streets over, and begin
setting up my classroom.
I thanked him and shook his hand, then left. I stopped by the gas station across the street for a
cappuchino and a cup of ramen noodles. I arrived at the school, and filled out my required paperwork.
That part took most of the day. At last, the secretary showed me around the building I knew from
memory. Showed me the classrooms. We met some teachers. Most of which I had been taught by myself when
I had gone here. They did not recognize me at all. Well, most of them didn't. There was this one teacher, a gym
teacher named David. We'd attended the same church when I was a child. He was not pleased to see me, but
he was polite.
The secretary showed me to my classroom. She asked if I'd known the man who once taught here. I
said yes. He was a close friend of mine. She gave her condolences. I accepted them, and went inside behind
her. There was already someone there, setting up computers and desks.
I knew who she was right away, though I'd never had her for a teacher. Her name was Ms.
McPherson. Though Mr. H was still the official teacher for the class that now was mine, this woman had taken
everything over.
She shook my hand when the secretary introduced us. The secretary said if I had any questions, then
I was welcome to come up to the office. Ms. McPhereson was not pleased to see me. I smiled, and accepted
the keys for my classroom and office and the secretary left. I took a quick walk around the almost empty room.
There was a crowd of desks near the front by the marker board and two teacher style desks. Cubicle like walls
separated the room in half, leaving a wide open space beyond where the computers were put out, but not turned
on.
"This won't do," I said at last, standing in the middle of the open space.
"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to be polite.
"All of these computers," I replied, "Are Macintosh Apples. They're not compatable with any of the
software."
"Only the yearbook staff uses software. And I've already set up-"
"I'll have to speak with Mr. Manning and the AV department. All this has to be replaced. I'll put in
an order to Dell or Hewlit Packard tomorrow."
She was angry with me, I could tell. But she was not the teacher here in this domain. I was. And I
would not allow her to run the show that was technically mine to direct.
We spent the remainder of the day arguing. Eventually, she threw up her hands, mumbled something
about going straight to the principal, and left. I cannot say I was not glad to see her go. From what I had always
heard, she was a complete power hungry bitch. I guess those rumors were true after all.
I went into my office. It was still set up from the Old Man's strange organization system. But it was
one I had mastered in a mere hour in my youth, and I was able to locate everything I needed quite easily.
By the end of the week, the Apples had been ripped out and replaced with beautiful black Dells,
complete with new printers. I received my software shortly after. I spent the remainder of my time installing it all
with the help of some members of the AV department, my work interrupted only by sleep and faculty meetings.
The next day it was the first day of school for the children. I had three classes. The first was the class
that dealt with creating the Yearbook. After a short introduction to the new system, which most already knew
how to operate, and introducing myself, I left them alone. They knew what they were doing. And I trusted them.
My second class was a creative writing class. Mostly freshman, a few upper classmen, and a senior
in for an easy A. I was not impressed by her to say the least. The class was noisy and wild. One of the teachers
across the hall ducked her head in to tell them to be quiet. I must say, I was proud then. I knew the class had
potential. It had the element of being random. After the first assignment, the standard "What did you do over
summer break?" essay, I already began to make a list of students I wanted on the newspaper.
Ah, my third class. They had third lunch. At each chime of the bell, they would all jump up and head
for the door, only to be told that it was not their bell. Like with the other two, I introduced myself. However,
unlike the other two, I was forced to go into detail about the new system with which they would operate. One of
my editors-in-chief's eyes lit up. Apparently he had worked on the paper the year before, as well as the year
before that. He remembered the old system, and was glad to have it back.
The remainder of the day was spent setting up for the next, and so forth.
The first month was without incident. After that, I noticed some of the other faculty members
whispering behind my back. Spreading rumors in the office. To me, they were no better than the students
themselves at their little game.
Only a few teachers I considered worth my time, and they had been the ones who thought enough to
bring the rumors to my attention.
One of them was Mrs. Sue Cambell. I had been in her ninth grade English class. She had always
been kind to me. Once, after a faculty meeting, when there were only a few others left in the cafeteria, she came
to me to ask if the rumors were true.
I had said yes. And that was that. She didn't say anything else of them. The old woman quickly
became my friend. Another teacher had been Mr. Whitsell. I remember he had always been a little insane. But
that is what made him an excellent Geography teacher. It was from him I had learned that Ms. McPherson was
the source of the nasty gossip. But I paid it no mind. So long as it did not affect my work, it was of no
importance to me.
Out first issue of the paper came out without a hitch. I bought the kids pizza to celebrate. They were
quite suprised that I'd do such a thing. The principal stopped by for a slice or two, congradulated me for my
good work. I told him it was not my doing, it was the students. He smiled, gave me a nod, and left us.
By now, I had settled in quite well, though I always felt uneasy of the town. I have yet to navigate my
way through the new places, but I was managing.
I was sitting in the Waffle House on the corner of Grassdale and Highway 41, my usual Sunday
routine. A newspaper open on the table as I munched on a bit of dry toast with my coffee when I heard laughter
behind me.
"Hey Mr. Takeuchi!" a girl called.
I lifted my head and gave her and her friends a small nod. She blushed and turned away quickly
before any could see. Her companions were many, and so they took to the large round booth in the far corner,
yet within my line of sight.
The waitress, her name was Jannette, refilled my coffee and took away my empty plate. "You want
anythin else hun?" she asked.
"How's the hashbrowns today?" I replied.
She laughed. "One plate of messy hash commin right up," she said, smacking the hell out of her gum
as she walked away. She sauntered her hips as she slipped around behind the counter.
I returned to reading my paper. It was a while after the girl and her friends had left, and I had
finished my hashbrowns well before that, when someone sat down across from me in the booth.
I looked up, and with a polite smile, I asked, "Can I help you?"
She smiled back at me and pulled out a year book. I noticed the year was 2002. Quickly, she
flipped through the pages until she came to a stop on a group photo near the back. Turning it around, she
pointed to a face near the center. "That's you, isn't it?" she asked suddenly.
I blinked, and considered the question carefully. Slowly, recognition of this girl came to me. I had
met her outside the farm house the night of the Old Man's funeral. I nodded and took a sip of coffee.
"I knew it was you!" she exclaimed, then frowned. "But I wasn't sure when Justin-"
"Pointed out the obvious," I finished for her, setting down my mug. Jannette came by, and I ordered
the young woman a coffee. She accepted without question.
Once the small town waitress had gone, she closed the book and set it aside. I could tell she was at
a loss for words. I leaned back, turning by body just enough for me to cross my legs comfortably and fold my
hands together upon the table. "Will that be all?" I asked.
She sat, silent for a moment, then slowly, carefully began to speak in a soft tone. "When did you-"
"About a year ago, give or take a few weeks," I replied. She nodded.
"How is your family? Are they doing well?"
I nodded. "They are fine."
I reached into my pocket for m pack of cigarettes. "You don't mind do you?" I asked. She shook
her head. "Not at all," she replied.
That is one of the finer things of this strange wasteland. Smoking in restaurants was not something to
debate, nor limit, in the state of Georgia. The state senate had tried passing the law, but it was quickly repealed.
I lit up my short Doral red and inhaled. The smoky scent made me smile. "Why are you really here?" I asked.
The expression on her face told me she knew I had caught her. She knew who I was, so the stint
with the yearbook was just a ploy to have me admit it vocally. After a long, awkward moment, she smiled and
brushed her black hair away from her face. "Is it true you've already finished college?"
I nodded. "I was dual enrolled in high school. When I transferred in, I already had enough credits to
be a senior. I started taking college level courses. I took classes over the summers. I had my four year by the
end of high school my second year there."
"Wow," she said, her eyes wide. Then she smiled. "I couldn't believe it when my little brother told
me you were his teacher."
"Why is that?" I asked.
She smiled, then reached into her purse. She pulled out a magazine clipping. "The name sounded
familiar. And last night I realized I'd read it somewhere before." She unfolded the paper. It was still crisp. I knew
it was over a year old. I took it when she handed it to me. I smiled. It was just after I had cut contact with my
parents. Just after I had made the change and went to Japan. I handed it back.
"I'm a huge fan of your manga. I have the entire set of the anime on DVD. I was so suprised when I
saw you at-"
"You couldn't believe that the Old Man had not been senile after all when he said he knew people."
She nodded. I smiled.
We talked a bit more. I checked my watch. By the time we had left the Waffle House, we had
caught up rather well. She was still a little confused as to why I would come back to a place like this after having
done all the things I had to keep away from here. I did not elaborate.
She asked if I would be going to a party a mutual friend was throwing this next weekend. I said no.
She said some of her friends wanted to meet me. After a while of convincing, I agreed to drop by if I didn't have
anything else to do. She promised, though I did not ask, not to disclose my identity, saying "If they don't know
already, then they don't need to know." I did not need to ask which it was she meant. I understood from the
tone of her voice.
The week went by quickly, and I found myself attending this party. It was rather boring. Her friends,
most of which were seniors in high school still, knew me for who I am now. A young man from Japan. A manga
and anime artist. They were fans of my work. They thought they were impressing me with their knowledge of
Japan. I was by far, not impressed.
I excused myself and went outside to the back yard. The music inside had been giving me a
migraine. I opened a bottle of beer from the cooler. I stood off to the side, out of the way, watching the people
chatting and wandering as they worked the crowd.
I felt a tap on my shoulder. I knew who it was. One of the faces I had seen from the Old Man's farm
house. I smiled and asked what it was he wanted. He told me some friends of his wanted to meet me. That he'd
heard from the girl who'd met me at the Waffle House that I was a big time artist. I rolled my eyes, but went with
him around to the front of the house. It was much less crowded here. He sat on the back of a pick-up truck and
popped a can of beer.
"So this him?" a young man asked. His hair was long and brown. The one who had led me here
nodded.
I took a sip of my beer.
"Of course it is! Would I lie to you!" he replied.
I smiled. "Araki Takeuchi," I said, extending my hand. One of the others, there were five in all,
shook it saying, "Yeah, we know who you are."
I brushed my hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. From the corner of my eye I noticed one
of the five staring at me. I smiled, gave him a nod, and delved into conversation.
It was a rather pleasant evening. It was around midnight or so when I departed, claiming I had
papers to read from my Creative Writing class. They all bid me good night, and I left them. They paid no further
attention to me.
So I was quite suprised when I heard a little tap-tap on my passenger side window. I pushed the
button to lower it. "Yes?" I asked.
"Dude, can you give me a ride? The guy I came here with split half an hour ago."
"Won't one of the other's take you?" I asked.
"Nawh," he said with his thick southern drawl. "They're probably gonna leave with their girls. Too
drunk to drive anyway."
I took a moment to consider this. True, from the looks of things, his friends were enjoying the party
too much to depart. I nodded and unlocked the door. He climbed in and we left. When we reached the end of
the neighborhood, I asked him where he lived. "Up by the highschool," he said. I nodded and drove. Later,
when we got closer to the highschool, I asked him again. He said, "Over there," and pointed to an apartment
building.
I laughed.
"What's so funny!" he demanded suddenly.
I shook my head. "Nothing," I replied. "I'll drop you by your building so you don't have to walk too
far."
"900," he replied. I almost laughed, but I held it in. Slowly we climbed the hill, and I stopped before
the next to last building.
"Thanks. I owe ya one," he said. I nodded. When he closed the door and started going towards the
building, I went to my usual space at the end of the 900 building section of the lot and climbed out, locking my
car.
When I looked up, he was standing halfway down the walkway of the first half of the building, where
the two bedroom appartments were located for this area. I waved at him with a cool smile and walked down the
sidewalk of the third portion of the building. I could hear him laughing as I went inside.
I ate a bowl of thai noodles, read papers, and fell asleep on the couch.
I woke up early the next morning to a knock at my door. I checked the clock on my dvr and sighed.
There was another knock. I clambered up and went to the door. The night before I had not bothered to change
into my bedclothes.
I opened the door, and there he stood, the young man. I was the last appartment down the hall. He
said he'd tried every one. He was in a pair of swim trunks, a towel thrown over his shoulder. "Me and the guys
are goin to the beach, wanna come?" he said.
I rubbed my eyes and blinked. "What the hell?" I said. "There are no beaches-"
"Bartow Beach," he said. "Over on Lake Alatoona."
"This is sort of short notice," I said. "Are they already here?"
"No. They won't be here for hour minutes. They gotta go pick up the girls." After a moment, he
smiled and said, "If you got other plans today, then don't worry about it. You can come along another time."
"Why the hell do you want me to come?"
He laughed. "So I'd have someone to talk to. Shit, when they bring the girls along, all they do is talk
about boyfriend girlfriend stuff."
I yawned, scratched my side, and stepped out of the doorway. "Come on in... lemme find my
trunks."
He laughed and came in, closing the door behind him as I raked a hand through my hair. I had plans,
but nothing out of the ordinary. Just reading papers, grading, and going to Waffle House. He looked around a
moment as I went into the back hall towards my room.
"Nice place," he called as I was going through my closet. I'd packed away all my summer clothes
earlier in the week. Eventually I returned to the living room in a pair of trunks, a towel slung over my shoulder. I
carried an old hippie styled backpack which held a small walkman, a few cds, a book, and a spiral bound
notebook. A few pens tossed into the bottom.
True to his word, about an hour later, we heard a horn. We went out and climbed into the back of
the SUV. We spent most of the morning swimming. Then, we went up to the concessio stand and had lunch. We
spent the hottest part of the day in one of the pavillions up a hill, then returned to the 'beach'.
The boys with their girls swam. I sat and listened to music to drown out the horror of hip-hop
blasting on the radio they had brought with them. I was writing in my notebook when a shadow was cast over
me.
Panting, the one who had invited me stood looking down at my notebook. "What'chu writin?" he
asked as he sat on a towel, grabbing another to dry himself.
"Nothing much. Just an idea I've been toying with," I replied.
"Cool, what is it?" he asked.
I told him. Neithre of us swam any more that day.
We all departed around seven. It was dusk. I sighed when I walked up to my door. I needed a nice
hot bath to get the unfamiliar stench of lake water off my skin. Then, I decided to skip down the hill to the pool.
Since leaving Florida, I'd lost track of my fitness routine. An hour of laps in the pool would show me how out of
shape I truly was.
Picking up my towel, and grabbing a few bottles of sake from the refridgerator, I put back on my
sandals and went.
I was indeed out of shape. My muscles sore from the activities of the day, I sat in the hot tub and
unwound with a bottle of sake. A few others were enjoying the heat of the tub and the relaxing underwater spray
of the jets. After a while, the others gave a shout of greeting, and I felt the water shift when a new body came
into it.
The benches were around three sides. I lay stretched out on one, my entire body taking up the
space. The others sat on the other two. Nobody told me to move.
"Hey Araki," said a cheerful voice.
I opened one eye to see the boy sitting across from me smiling. I took a sip of my sake and nodded
at him.
I spent a few hours relaxing, not wanting to leave the heat of the shallow pool. People came and
went. When I opened my eyes, I found only the boy and I were left. And he was staring at me.
How long he had been staring, I cannot be sure. When he saw my eyes were open, he smiled. "I
thought you'd gone to sleep," he said.
"I almost did," I replied sitting up. I was down to my last two bottles. I'd brought four with me. I
opened one and took a sip, setting it on the ledge. I would have to buy more tomorrow after work.
"You gonna drink the other one?" he asked.
"Be my guest," I replied. He crossed the pool and took it from the ledge. He tossed the cap off to
the side of the tub and took a large swallow. His expression was priceless. He scrunched up his nose in
displeasure. "What the hell is this stuff!" he exclaimed.
"Pure sake," I replied. I had picked it up from an import store a town over. I was suprised when I
found it, having recalled that the local store sold a watered down mix and a falsely labled brew. "It's an aquired
taste."
He laughed and took another swallow. He set it on the ledge and looked at me. "Ya know, I just
noticed that you don't even know my name."
I laughed with him. True, I didn't know it. Having met him only the night before, I didn't feel the need
to ask. Not until now.
"Jim," he said, brushing his light brown hair from his blue eyes. It was cut in a traditional bowl cut
that I usually saw on the young men around the area who were not members of the 'popular' crowd.
I took a sip of my sake. We laughed, traded jokes, and just talked.
It was nice having someone other than a fellow teacher to talk to. I learned he was in his first year of
community college. He'd taken a year off to earn and save up money to go. He lived with his parents and shared
a room with his older brother who was attending college in New York.
I went home and went to sleep. I woke for work the next day to find a note attatched to my door.
That day was a hectic one as my editors brainstormed ideas and made up the preliminary deadlines
for the next paper. I had a late lunch with Sue. A faculty meeting shortly after.
I was called into the front office because someone had overheard a few other teachers talking of me
concerning ideas for clubs. I sat down across from the principal and smiled. He asked if I could help. I shrugged.
"I suppose I should," I said, drawing out the moment. I saw the hopeful look on his face slowly fade in the
pause. When it was gone completely, I nodded. "Someone has to do it. And if any of these Bible thumpers get
their way, it'd turn into a three ring circus."
He laughed and sat back in his chair. I liked the man. He was a bit old, but I still respected him. He
never once said a hurtful word about me, nor to me. In fact, he defended me openly against all the others.
Before I had been forced to leave this place, we had met only briefly. But he had taken a liking to me once he
heard I was going to his home state, Florida.
We understood one another only as outsiders can. In many ways, he viewed me as an equal more
than those around us, even old Sue. I devoted my useless office hours during the remainder of the week
designing flyers to put up around the school.
That Friday, I spent it hammering out the details. The first meeting was schedueled for next Tuesday
afternoon.
Saturday afternoon, I joined my new friends at the Chinese food place I used to go to as a child.
The girls waved to me. The guys gave me the signature many hand gestures of greeting or a slap on the back.
Jim, I noticed, was conspicuously absent for the first half of the meal. When he showed up, he
explained he'd gotten caught up at work. He ordered quickly and we made room in the booth. It was a tight fit,
all eleven of us in the round booth meant for six to seven. Everyone bumped elbows and knees as we talked and
caught up over the week's events. Jim sat beside me at the end, occasionally having to push me further in to
make room for himself on the end.
We all spent a few hours, giving Jim a chance to eat and feel like he'd been here all along before we
decided to go. We went across town to Dellinger Park for a local rock band's charity concert. That is what the
note on my door had been about.
We all sat on a large blanket on a small hill like all the others who had come to hear the music that
was like a breath of fresh air between the gospel, country, and hip-hop that usually flew through the air.
Though the band was pretty good, I excused myself. Most of the guys were taking the opportunity
to make-out. It didn't make me uncomfortable, but I just became rather bored.
I decided to go to the duck pond, taking my box of pocky with me to feed to them. The sun was
setting, and I watched it from the pavillion in the center of the area, surrounded completely by water, the small
peninsula gave me a feeling of home.
"Hey."
I turned my head to see Jim standing beside me. "Were you starting to get a headache too?" he
asked.
"It's just not my sort of scene, that's all," I replied.
He sat down with a nod. "Yeah, this place is pretty dull," he replied. "They can build it up as much as
they want, but it still doesn't change anything." He paused and looked at me. I hardly noticed. I put my last stick
of pocky in my mouth as I watched the sun slowly dip beyond the wooded horizon.
"Why did you come back?" he said suddenly.
"The Old Man asked me to," I replied.
It was the truth. I had managed to keep in contact with him all this time. For the last few months of
his life, he was trying to get me to come back, to take his place at the school. I'd returned to Florida for a month
before I returned here to the wasteland. I had just finished my contracts with Kondasha and Toei well before the
companies had imagined. I was free to go.
"I see," he said with a nod. "He was supposed to retire after last year, but at the last minute he
changed his mind and stayed."
I nodded, finishing my pocky stick and turning to him. What I found when I did was quite a suprise,
although it probably shouldn't have been. We parted our lips, and our tongues embraced briefly. My heartbeat
was calm, but his I could feel was erratic. I broke it off and he looked almost dissapointed.
I gave him a knowing smile and nod. He returned it and wiped his face. What passed between us
then was the silent agreement that I've shared with all in my closer circles.
One of the girls found us talking about the latest video games. The upcoming Playstation 3. She
called us nerds and dragged us back to the SUV. She told the others that she'd found us in the most romantic
spot in the entire park, and we were talking about video games.
"Some people just never grow up eh Jimie!" one of the guys said and ruffled his hair.
"Yeah, when are you ever gonna grow out of being a nerd and get a girl man!"
He laughed and replied with "When you start thinkin with your brain and not your dick Justin!"
I laughed at the irony of that statement while everyone else just laughed.
After we were dropped off. He told me that his parents thought he was spending the weekend with
his cousins. They said they would cover for him.
We went inside my apartment. He was awkward at first, and we sat on my couch watching anime.
Some of it was old school style from the 80's. After a while, I found we'd been sitting on the couch, he was
curled up beside me, his head on my shoulder. I played with his hair and asked if he wanted to order out.
He said he wanted pizza, and offered to pay. I said no, and called Dominoes. We ate a late dinner
and watched some more anime. It was during an anime I noticed he was curling back up against me. I ruffled his
hair with a smile and kissed his cheek. "I'm getting tired," I said.
He turned off the tv and put away the dvd while I locked up the front door. He was back on the
couch, about to lay down when I stopped and looked at him. He blinked at me, then turned red. I just shook my
head and smiled. "O-yasumi-nasai," I said as I kissed his cheek again.
"What?" he asked.
"It means good night," I replied, going to my room. I left the door cracked as I turned out the light. I
stripped off my shirt and took off my pants. I slept in my shorts.
The next morning I awoke to the sound of my alarm. I turned it off, got up, and got ready to shower
to find there was no hot water coming from my tap. I sighed and showered in the cold. Brushing my teeth, I
noticed my roots were showing again. I didn't really care.
I came out from my room shirtless to find Jim sitting on the couch, eating cold pizza, and watching
Sunday morning cartoons. "Any plans today?" he asked.
"DDR tournament today," I replied. I'd heard about it from some of the students in my newspaper
class. I wasn't planning on going initially. But it was an open tournament so I changed my mind. It had been a
while since I'd done something like that.
I ate a quick breakfast, then we left. He ducked down in the seat when we went past his parents
near the leasing office. I waved and smiled politely, like I do to everyone who is my neighbor. The father waved,
the mother smiled. They did not see their son in my car.
It was still morning. The tournament didn't start until after dark. We stopped by Waffle House for a
cup of coffee. Some of the regulars noticed us, and eyed Jim suspiciously. I waved it off and said "We're
planning our strategy for a video game tournament tonight." That seemed to pacify them. We left, leaving town
altogether. I took him a town over, to Adairsville. It was small, it always had been. But it was the place that held
within it my home away from home.
Woodland; a small import store owned by an old Japanese couple and their children.
I chatted up the shop keep a while as Jim browsed around.
"I can't understand any of this," he said when I found him again, looking over a shelf of cds.
"You don't have to," I replied. "It's just the music that really matters. If you see anything you like, let
me know."
I picked up a basket and began loading it with items. He came to me with a handful of cds and
packages of candy. I smiled, then paid. On my way out I told him to pick up three cases of 12 bottles of sake.
We went to the arcade back in town. We played some games. I practiced my DDR skills. The
tournament was a team play. I signed in for doubles. We played Tekken 2 until the tournament began.
"Odin and Fink!" someone called, and two teens stepped onto the platform. I watched them, sipping
a bottle of ginger ale.
"They're really good," Jim said. "They hold all the records here."
I nodded when I saw Justin, who was watching another pair on a machine across the room. He
smiled, his girlfriend waved. My attention was turned once more to Odin and Fink. They cleared every stage
with such perfection. They hardly broke a sweat.
I sipped my ginger ale before lighting a clove cigarette. Jim gave me an odd look. "I asked earlier," I
said. "It's allowed here."
He smiled and nodded, patiently waiting my turn.
The crowd went wild when the two had finished. Perfect score straight through three songs.
"Seph!" came the voice as three tokens were tossed into the machine slot. I set down my drink, my
cigarette dangling from my mouth.
"You want me to hold it?" Jim asked. I held up my hand and pushed through the crowd. I stepped
up to the machine and chose quickly my firs song. Not wanting to show off, I chose Light mode, the colors dark.
The speed solo. I cracked my neck and loosened up my joints, hitting the blinking green button. Turning my
back to the screen, I waited. Whispers flew around me.
I noticed a few students from my classes dotted through the ocean of faces that looked upon me in
slight confusion.
The music started, and I pounded out the beats with my feet. Heavy boots smashing the lit up
squares. I turned, exhaling a lung full of smoke as I raked a hand through my hair.
This was no Para-para groove, but it was enough to get my heart beating. I finished quickly, and
patiently waited for the scores to be recorded. I flicked away the butt of my cigarette and chose the next song.
Again, I jumped erratically over both sets of buttons, smashing out the beats as they came. The Star
Fox theme was heavy in the air as I gave it one final kick. Again, I waited as my scores were recorded. For my
final choice, I chose the hardest in the list, one that on the large Mega-tron screen of downtown Tokyo had been
a paltry begginner round of tunes.
Eyes closed, I started once more with my back to the screen, listening and tapping my fingers against
the rail I opened my eyes and allowed the music to flow through me. To consume me as I watched the faces that
took in my style in amazement. Many faces I had known only upon returning. Others had come from a stir of
memories.
Twisting my body this way and that, I rocked to the wailing of the Japanese techno jive. I finished in
finesse and tapped in my four letter name, then stepped down, reaching into my pocket. I pulled out another
brown wrapped clove and inhaled the aroma.
Jim was ecstatic. Justin I had noticed had come over to watch me, as many had also torn away from
other machines.
"Dude! That was killer! Where'd you learn to move like that!" he exclaimed.
I smiled and nodded, catching a heated stare from the two called Odin and Fink.
"Insane moves man!" one of the other guys called. "You wanna join my crew?" he asked.
"Hell no! I saw him first!" a girl snapped, grabbing my arm. I shrugged her off with a polite smile. "I
dance alone," I said, Jim handing me my ginger ale.
The remainder of the night became a war between myself and the two teens who had come before
me.
I purposely thre the tournament in the finals. I didn't need a year supply of free tokens. My second
place prize was $200 worth. I gave it all away.
Jim and I left around eleven. We went back to my appartment and ordered out. We watched one of
the DVDs I'd bought. I discovered he did not need to be home until Tuesday. His classes tomorrow had been
canceled the week before.
I told him I was tired around one. he locked the door and I went back to my room. I peeled off my
clothes and turned out the lights. I turned on one of my new cds and climbed into bed.
I was drifting between wake and sleep when I felt the blankets shift, and a form curl up beside me. I
turned my head and asked, "What are you doing?"
I heard him laugh and kiss my cheek. "Just go back to sleep," he said. I rolled over.
My alarm went off at five. I shut it off and sat up, rubbing my eyes. The night's activity had at last
caught up with me, and I thought about calling in sick. I felt arms wrap around my waist and a chin rest on my
shoulder. "Is it morning already?"
I smiled and leaned back against him. "I gotta go to work," I said.
He looked at the clock. "But school doesn't start until 8:30."
"I like to be awake when I get there," I replied as the Japanese voices wailed softly on the stereo
across the room. I turned when he pulled away. He had laid back down and turned his back to me.
I lay down beside him, reaching over to reset my alarm for seven before laying my arm over him.He
started to roll over, but with my mouth to his neck I stopped him. My hand pressed against his stomach, he
sighed softly.
My fingers slowly crept beneath the elastic of his shorts, and brushed against the coarse hair of his
nether regions. He pressed his back against me as I cupped and manipulated his sac. He moaned as he parted
his legs, pressing his buttocks against my own crotch.
"Ara," he whispered as he turned his head to meet my waiting mouth. My hand released his sac and
my long fingers wrapped around his shaft, gently pulling as my free hand came up to our mouths. I broke the
embrace long enough to coat two fingers in saliva before brushing his lips again.
Slowly, my hand worked into him beneath his shorts. And he gasped as the first finger forced entry.
"Relax," I said gently. He bit his lip as I forced a second in. I worked him, I kneeded him. Carefully, slowly.
He pushed against my hand with a moan as I brushed against his gland.
I pulled my hands away, and he whimpered. I told him to remove his shorts, I did the same.
We spent the next two hours engaged in our immorality. We finished to the sound of the alarm. We
showered. He wanted to kneel to me, but I told him I was spent.
We ate a small breakfast. He called some friends. I brought him to the high school. He waited at the
gas station across the street until his ride arrived.
I spent the day listening to one argument after another, a typical Monday.
During lunch, I heard a soft tap at my door. One of the girls from my Creative Writing class stood
there, a slightly distraught look upon her face.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
"I would have gone to the counselor," she said. She was rather fidgity, and kept looking over her
shoulder.
I nodded and stood, offering her my chair. She shook her head and moved a stack of papers from
another and sat down. Briefly, I looked out into the classroom. Only my two main editors remained.
"What's up chief?" one asked when he noticed I'd come out.
I carefully, quietly explained to him the situation. He nodded and replied. "I'll get ya if anyone comes
lookin for ya," he said and returned to his work.
Once in my office, I closed the door. I sat and listened to her as she broke down into tears. I soon
understood why she had come to me rather than those who are paid for consoling the students. I gave her a brief
squeeze of the shoulder. I patted her hand and said it would be alright.
I told her I would see her tomorrow afternoon. She nodded, took a tissue from my desk, and left. I
sighed and left my office.
"What was that all about?"
"Do you have any classes with her, Troy?" I asked.
He nodded. "Two. Math and Latin."
"Keep an eye on her for a while."
"Why's that?" he asked.
"Just make sure she keeps out of trouble."
"What's in it for me?" he laughed.
I smiled. "I'll send out one of the ad staff to go pick up some lunch for you all next week."
"I ain't gotta pay do I?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"My treat," I said, then pulled up a rolling chair. "So, how's the litterary magazine coming along?"
We talked until the bell rang, and it was time for his next class. I returned to my office, now free of
classes for the remainder of the day. I read papers, I graded, I played an emulator game on the computer.
I had a meeting that afternoon with some parents.
When I got home, Jim was still gone. I made a small wok of stir-fry, not having lunch through the
day. I ate as I sat at my desk in the corner of the living room, sketching out a few panels for my online comic.
My phone rang. I let it ring until the machine picked it up.
My head turned when I heard the hysterical voice on the other end. It was Justin. I missed the first
few seconds of the message. I picked up the phone.
"Calm down," I said. "Take a breath and talk slowly."
There was a pause. I could hear some sobbing in the background. "It's Steph. Someone's shot
Steph." He went on like this for twenty minutes before I interrupted him. "Where are you?"
He sniffled. "The hospital," he said. "Oh God... oh God Steph... oh God..."
I told him I would be there soon. I wrote out a note and taped it to my front door. It was simple,
and mentioned no names. All it said was "Went to hospital. Will be back soon. Call me."
I was at the place soon enough, after getting turned around near a car dealership. I found Justin in
the ER waiting room with the others. A middle aged woman sat in tears, an older man held her.
"Oh God! I'm glad you're here!" he exclaimed when he saw me.
"How is she?" I asked in monotone.
"It doesn't look good," said a voice. I glanced over my shoulder to find the long haired young man
called Shaun. His clothes, under his nails, stained crimson. He was quiet, sitting in his chair and staring straight
forward.
I knew he was in shock. It was an expression I have seen many times.
"What happened?" I asked calmly.
"We... we were downtown right, and we just came out of that store on main street. You know,
where the old book store used to be. Uh... uh..."
"Rising Sun Imports?" I asked.
"Yeah, that's it," he said, fidgeting. "We just walked out, and Steph left her purse inside. We were
gonna go in with her but she told us to go ahead to the car. Next thing-" He suddenly broke down, sitting down
in a chair and holding his head in his hands. "Oh God... if... if we'd just gone back with her..."
I rested a hand on his shoulder. "Then all three of you would be here side by side," I said.
"We could have done something!"
I shook my head. "There was nothing you could do," I said. I was consoling him when my phone
rang. The theme song to Sailor Moon wafting through the air. I excused myself and went outside. I looked
through the window at them all as I answered my phone. "Moshi moshi," I said.
"I tried the door, but it's locked. I got the note. What happened?" I sighed, relieved to know for sure
that Jim had not been with them today.
"Josie's been shot," I said calmly. I could hear him gasp, and when I spoke next, I heard the
trembles of his breathing. "I don't know anything yet. Justin and Shaun were with her when it happened."
"You want me and Sam to-"
"No. I'll be leaving shortly myself. I might take a while though."
"Okay..." he said slowly. "Call Sam's house when you get home. I'll be over there."
"Alright," I replied. He said I love you so quietly I could hardly hear him. I said I'll talk to him later. I
went back inside, and spoke briefly with the girl's parents. I gave my condolences, then turned to Justin. I asked
if he'd like me to take Shaun home. He was in no shape to drive himself. He said okay.
From what I managed to get out of Shaun was he lived at the north end of town. When we arrived,
none were home. I knew Shaun shared a small house with some of his friends from high school. I did not know
them, nor do I care.
I called Sam's house on my cell phone as I was drawing Shaun a warm bath so he could get the
grime off him. His clothes were ruined, that was sure. "Do you want me to pick you up?" I asked.
"If you want. Sam could always bring me back."
"I'll hang around here until someone gets home to stay with Shaun."
I waited a few hours before a car appeared on the curb. I told the young woman what had
happened. She cried. I let her cling to me until she was through. I told her I'd had him take a bath, but he
wouldn't eat anything. She thanked me for staying with him, and I left.
I dropped by Sam's to pick up Jim. The two were playing Lord ofthe Rings: The Third Age. For a
brief instant, I felt as if in a time warp. Sam asked for details. I told him all I knew, which was not much. He was
silent, and nodded. Jim and I returned home.
We spent the night curled up on bed, staring at the ceiling as we talked. He asked me what it was
like living in Japan. I told him. He asked how I knew the Old Man. I said he was a family friend. He asked if I'd
gone to school where I now teach. I told him for a short while.
We had sex. I smoked a Doral red. He fell asleep with his head on my chest. I turned on the alarm
and went to sleep.
I woke the next morning to find him staring down at me. We kissed. I beat him off. We took a
shower. We ate breakfast and like the day before, I dropped him off at the gas station.
The day was uneventful. The first meeting of the new club of which I was the sponsor was that
afternoon.
More people than I had thought showed up. Most of them I recognized from my classes. Others
seemed as if not to belong. I knew from the way they kept looking around, studying faces of others, what they
might have had in mind. Some merely sat with their heads down or their hair covering their faces.
I introduced myself with practiced ease, and thanked them for coming. I explained what the club
was about, then the usual shtick of the goals and the mission statement. I knew half of the faces I saw would not
return the next week, but I had them write their names down anyway.
We had an open discussion. People asked questions, I or someone else answered. It was rather
productive I think. At the end, I thanked them again for coming. Cheerfully I told them what to expect at next week's meeting. Many students hurried out the door. I noticed some lingered. These, I could
tell, were the ones I had hoped would come. My students told me how cool it was that I had been willing to do
something like this. A few of the staff that had come told me how courageous I was for starting a club like this in
a town so caught up in tradition that the outside world seemed not to exist.
I smiled, and when they had gone, I addressed those who had stayed behind. I nodded to the girl
who had come to my office the day before. I sat down in one of the chairs and said, "Did you get anything
important out of this meeting?" It was an innocent question, but some looked as if I'd just striken them with my
open palm.
I smiled warmly, and gestured to the seats before me. "Don't worry," I said. "I've been where you
guys are. I know what you're going through." I paused. "I'm not going to give you the basic motivational bullshit
everyone else probably feeds you. I won't judge you, I won't make jokes, I won't even talk to you in the halls if
you don't want me to."
I gestured to the open door of my office with a nod. "But if any of you need to talk, my door is
always open. Doesn't matter if I have a class at the time or not. If you need me, I'm here. If all you want to do is
just scream and yell and tell me to eat shit and die, then do it."
One of them laughed. I shook my head. "If you got a problem, I'll see what I can do to fix it. That's
why I was asked to sponsor this club."
One of the girls nodded with a big smile. She and a few others left after saying their ride was waiting
in the parking lot. Troy was all that remained of the lingering students. "Did you really mean what you said?
About talkin and stuff?" he asked, rolling his chair around to his computer.
I had already gone to work on the one beside it. Someone earlier in the day had practically crashed
it, leaving me or the AV guys to take care of it. It was a simple enough problem, so I figured I might as well do it
myself. "I did," I said.
He smiled and turned on his speakers. "Cool, cause those counselors can't be trusted. Damn
prejudice assholes."
I chuckled. "So, what did you think of my presentation?" I asked, looking over my shoulder as he
scrolled through his playlist. He shook his head and loaded a different one. Shortly after, the erratic beat of
techno was blaring from the small speakers. "It was pretty good," he replied at last, starting to work. "I mean, I
never realized how much work went into the whole tollerance and acceptance thing. But I think you got your
work cut out for you."
"I know what you mean," I replied. "This place is a war zone of hate. It's like a time warp, where
everyone is stuck in the pre-civil war mentality."
"Why did you agree to do it then Mr. T?" he asked, spinning around in his chair. "I mean, with all the
discrimination that goes on in this town, you've just made yourself a prime target for the local KKK chapter."
I shrugged. "If I didn't do it, nobody would I guess. If worst comes to worst, I'll take matters into my
own hands."
"What do you mean by that?"
I shrugged. "I don't need this job you know. I can always just leave, save my own skin. But these
kids can't do that. This place has already warped them into believing they can't ever leave. That if you're not
white, you're better off dead or worse."
"I think I get it," he said at last with a smile. "Well, if you need any help bringing about the revolution,
I'm in."
I laughed under my breath. "Even if you could get expelled and ruin your chances at getting into
college?"
"Hell yeah!" he exclaimed. "I may look normal, but on the inside," he said, slamming his fist on the
table, knocking over a cup of pencils. "I'm a raging political ativist!"
After another hour or so, I told him to go home. He didn't want to leave until he'd finished the layout.
I had to force him to leave by hitting the save button before pulling the plug.
That night I went to visit Josie in the hospital. She was still weak, but she was stable. She was
allowed only two visitors at a time. Justin and her boyfriend Cody were there. Her parents had left earlier that
day. When I arrived, Cody was just coming out of the room. He didn't want her to see him cry.
I brought her a stuffed anime doll from my own collection at home. She was sleeping, so I left it by
her hand. Justin looked at the doll, then at me, before returning to the book he was reading to her.
After a while, he closed the book and sighed, leaving it on the nighstand. She'd been shot twice.
Once in the chest, again in the stomach. Her head had hit one of the shelves. It was still to early to tell if she
suffered any brain damage. The swelling was down, but was still too much to see anything yet.
We talked quietly. I learned he'd been there since the night before. Neither of us knew how Shaun
was doing. Stuart had tried to see, but the man's roommates would not let him in.
I spent the next month, visiting every other day. When the swelling had gone down, it was found she
did indeed sustain brain damage, though not as much as they had been guessing. They kept her so long so that
they could observe her, make sure they had done all they were able to do. I stayed on the weekends for a few
hours, giving people, especially Justin, the chance to sleep. Josie would wake up every so often to eat, then
return to sleep. So, needless to say when she suddenly sat up in the bed and stared silently at me, I was a little
suprised.
She clung to the doll I had brought her and mumbled something. Her speech was short and clipped,
but I understood her well enough to understand. I smiled. "Steph," I said, "It's just me, Araki."
She shook her head, and I could hardly make out a word. After a moment, she threw the doll at me
in frustration. It was then I noticed it had not been just a word she kept trying to say. It was a name. I picked up
the doll and handed it to her before buzzing in a nurse.
I explained what had happened. The remainder of the afternoon was spent at Josie's parent's house
waiting for answers. The name she had been trying to tell me turned out to be the name of her assailant, which
proved she knew who had shot her.
When I had spoken the name out loud to the others, they were mortified. Justin and Stuart retrieved
Stuart's dad's old hunting rifles and set watch on the house. I made the mistake of asking who this person was.
All Jim would say was "Her first boyfriend." I knew not what he meant, but knew the situation was quite severe.
I offered to take Samantha, Justin's girlfriend, and Kelsey, Stuart's girlfriend, home. Kelsey said no
and stayed. Samantha wasted no time in getting into my car.
She sat in the back seat, Jim in the front. I offered to get them something to eat. Jim said he would
eat when he got home. Samantha asked if we could go to Wendy's. I bought myself a large diet coke. She had a
baked potato, a side salad, and a small water. She ate quietly as I drove through town, taking the widely
populated roads until we had reached her neighborhood. She bid us good night, and we waited until she had
gone inside. She waved out the window, and we left.
"I can't believe they let him out!" Jim said suddenly as I turned on the radio. I kept the volume down
enough to hear him. "If he got Steph... he'll come after the rest of us too. I know he will."
I reached over and put my hand on his knee. "Relax," I said. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"But you don't know this guy," he said worriedly, placing his hand over mine. "He won't stop until he
gets us all."
"Why?" I asked gently, my voice soft so as to try and calm him down.
"It was our fault he got locked away. And when he got his sentence, he was screaming at us. He
said he'd get us if it was the last thing he'd do. He said he'd get us all for turning him in."
"What did he do?"
He started to cry. He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket. He wouldn't speak. "What did he
do?" I asked again, more firmly.
After a long pause, he at last spoke. He struggled to keep his voice from cracking. "He... There was
a party. It was prom night our junior year. He got drunk, and he was beating on Stephie," he said. "And she just
took it. But Cole and Ronnie stopped him, and tried to get him tossed out. There was a fight in the parking lot.
When the cops got there..." He sniffled. I pulled my hand away and reached up to stroke his damp cheek.
"What happened when the cops got there?" I asked gently, pulling into our appartment complex. I
parked the car mid-way between our abodes.
He wiped his eyes on his sleeve again. "He killed 'em. He fucking killed 'em... And... and..." I
reached into the glove box and pulled out a travel pack of Kleenex. I gave him one. He blew his nose. "Justin
and Stuart tailed him, but they lost him near Dellinger Park. Shaun spotted him a few days later near Stephie's.
He called them inside and told them he was out there. Samantha called the cops on her cell phone. Me and
Kelsey were with Shaun. It was Stephie's birthday, and we were all going to meet at her house before going out
to celebrate."
That was when he finally broke into a babbling fool. I reached across the gear shift and tried my best
to embrace him. I gently kissed his cheek. I kissed his tears away. I promised him I would not let any harm
come. I went inside with him, and we sat on the couch as he continued to cry.
His parents came home and found us. He had just fallen asleep, so carefully I pried myself away to
greet them. They knew me by now as their neighbor, their son's best friend. However, I took it further and told
them exactly what I was to their son. I was suprised to find they were not. His mother smiled and offered me
some coffee. His father sat down at the dining room table and said "About damn time he found someone, damn
leech."
I laughed, but was careful to keep my voice down. We three conversed, first over the turn of events.
They were scared, remembering the vow they had heard screamed through a long ago court room. The
conversation somehow was turned to me. They wanted to know how someone so young had become a teacher
already.
They were rather impressed with what I told them of myself. Not everything, but enough to satisfy
them. Before I had left for my own appartment, I asked them politely not to tell our friends of Jim and I. They
smiled, and agreed, saying that what goes on behind closed doors is no one's business but our own.
Fall was turning to winter. Which meant finals for all my friends. Josie was finishing up her required
physical therapy. She would never go back to school for her degree. I felt sorry for her. Word spread quickly
when her attacker, his first name had been Joey, had been caught at last. He was trying to break into Justin's
house.
In December, my little club had a Kwanza party, to celebrate the traditional customs of those
decended from Africans. We also celebrated Chanukah, Christmas, and the Winter Solstace. We sold cookies
and paper snow flakes with positive messages written on them. Three students, two female, one male, came to
my office during this time and asked my advice on how to tell their parents they were gay. I told it to them
straight that they had two possible reactions. One good, one bad. I told them to expect that bad and hope for
the good.
All three came back and told me what had happened. I consoled them and told them to look on the
bright side. At least they didn't get kicked out of their homes.
Winter break came. Justin had invited me to come with them to visit his old friend Fahim in Toronto.
The first few days, Fahim showed us around. Then, we all started doing what all tourists do, shop and explore.
We found an arcade, and once more I performed the sinful dance of Dance Dance Revolution. Jim was amused.
Justin was amazed. Shaun was unphased.
I was tired that night, and told everyone to go out without me. Shaun stayed behind as well. He had
not been his old self since the Incident. I was reading in the living room of our suite when he came to sit down
and stare at me. I looked over the edge of my book and returned the stare.
I smiled and took a sip of sake, offering him some from the small bottle that sat on the table. He
shook his head and politely declined. I shrugged and returned to reading. I had finished a chapter and a half
when I heard him say, "How can you do it?"
I blinked, caught slightly off guard by his words. I set the book down in my lap and turned my head
towards him. "What do you mean?"
"How can you keep living in that place if you hate it so much?"
I answered his question with a question. "What brought this on?"
He shook his head and watched me carefully. "I get it now, at least, I think I do." He paused. The
expression in his eyes told me his mind was slowly trying to work through something. "I just finished reading your
manga, and I realized something."
I nodded for him to continue.
"I didn't realize it until the last page, so I went back through each volume to check some things. The
backgrounds, they're Cartersville. The way it used to be."
I smiled, laughing softly as I sat up, setting my book to the side as I put my bare feet on the carpet.
"You guessed correctly," I said.
"Some of the things the characters said, it reminded me of someone I used to know. Are you-"
I shook my head. "That person died a long time ago," I said calmly. "All there remains is what you
see before you."
It was then he did something I had not seen him do for quite a while. He smiled. The laugh that came
from him was a dry, scratchy sound. "I knew there as something odd about you from the start. But I just couldn't
place it."
I smiled back at him and took a sip of my sake. It seemed Shaun had at last come out of his
desolate funk so to speak.
The remainder of the break passed without incident other than Fahim had broken his arm trying to
climb a wall in an attempt to out run the police.
Months passed. My birthday came and went. I celebrated with my grandmother and family. I
finished the semester at the high school with only minor inconviniences. Ms. McPherson transferred to another
school in the district. The school paper, The Trumpet, won second place in some national competition. The
literary magazine, which had been dearly missed the year before, had won third. That didn't seem to matter to
the student body, which ate it up and craved still more.
The summer began, and I sent my new comic across the Pacific. Trouble began the first week of
June. I had not seen Jim for some time now. He had gone to study abroad in Japan. Ocassionally I recieved a
letter or post card. But that was all.
A few friends were visiting for the summer. Justin had gone to spend the summer in New York.
Cody spent all his free time with Josie. Samantha had gone to France. Stuart skipped town. Nobody knew
where he had gone. After winter break, Shaun seemed to dissapear.
I felt sorry for them all. Though some managed to escape, they would all return, just as I had, to this
place that stole our childhood.
I looked over to the girls sitting across the hot tub from me. They were talking of some concert. The
two young men in the pool, my friends from a state away, were playing volleyball with some of the other
residents.
Later, my friends and I had sex in the kitchen before leaving. We went to the arcade. I had heard
they had at last gotten a Para-Para machine.
When we arrived, already the place was packed. I smiled when I saw Odin and Fink already on the
machine. They did quite well, yet not as well as they had liked.
When the machine was free, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. A young man, his hair long and
covering half his face so that only one dark brown eye peered out at me. He smiled. "Para-Para?" he asked.
"Para-Para," I answered. We pushed through the crowd and tossed in some tokens. I chose the
Turtle, the Light level. I chose an easy song.
His moves suprised me. He chose the next set. The third and final dance was at expert level, the
hidden Panda. I always thought it was cute how each level was associated with an animal. We both cleared all
three stages.
We parted ways, but once more we met in the parking lot.
"I was beginning to think you had fallen into a black hole," I said, taking a drag of my Doral red.
He laughed. "I did some traveling," he said. My friends were in the back seat of my Honda Civic,
engaged in their own interests. I sat on the hood, facing the back of the parking lot; a small wooded area that
managed to escape the growth of the town. I offered him a beer. He accepted it gladly.
"How have you been?" he asked me.
I shrugged. "Stuarte as always," I replied, a cloud of smoke escaping from my lungs through my
mouth.
"How's Jim?" he asked.
"He's alright I guess. We haven't spoken since he broke up with me."
He laughed. "His loss," he said, turning to me. I saw in his eyes what I have seen in the eyes of many
young men and women.
He took my cigarette and inhaled. The smoke from the tip curled around his face, embracing him in
its destructive beauty.
He led me to his SUV, inviting me into the back seat that I had seen quite often on various trips
around town. He tossed the cigarette away before climbing in. A hand reaching out to pull me in. I closed the
door behind me as I fell into his arms. His lips found mine, and he allowed me to pervade his mouth with my
tongue. He moaned into me as my hands molded his soft flesh.
He unfastened my pants as I unbuckled his old seam stretched denim. He smelled like all young men
smell. Musky, masculine. His hands were clumsy as they tried to push my clothes away. With expert skill I
brought his pants to his knees.
Our unsheathed swords fought as he whispered his need for me. He pushed me away, and I sat
back as he turned his body, bending his waist so that his cheeks spread open before me. Coating my fingers with
spittle, I prepared him.
He cried out as I filled him, driving deep into him without warning. He rode me with a cry of extacy.
Later, I invited him to my appartment for a late dinner.
We spent the night in my room, Japanese rock playing on the radio as we devoured one another
until dawn.
My friends had fallen asleep in the living room watching an Iron Chef marathon.
Later in the week, I learned Shaun had spent a great deal of the last five months in Hong Kong. At
the end of the month, he asked if he could move in with me. I shrugged and said alright. After clearing it through
the leasing office, they gave me a second key.
I received a letter from Jim that Stuarte week. He told me he'd become an intern at Toei in the
animation department. I did not write him a reply. Shaun began creating web comics. By the end of the summer,
he had actually begun making money off it.
When August came around, those who had departed now returned to the drudgery that is every day
life. Like a boomerang they came back to this wasteland. All but Jim of course.
We celebrated Fahim's return, with degree in hand, by way of a party at Justin's house.
Shaun and I were sitting in the den, away from the main body of the party, watching Final Fantasy 7:
Advent Children with a few others. Samantha was drowning out the movie with talk of her new manga addiction.
To me it was of little importance, for I had the collection in storage, all thirty or so chapters in their original
format.
Justin threw himself into a chair and popped the seal of a Budweiser. Others came and went. When
the credits began to scroll, Shaun leaned against me, resting his head upon my shoulder. I put my arm around his
shoulders and took a sip of my ginger ale, opting not to drink of the alcoholic bliss this night.
It was the wee hours of the morn I noticed, the clock on the dvr reading 4:17. Samantha now sat at
the end of the couch upon which Shaun and I had remained most of the night. Stuart sat on the arm. Justin in a
recliner. Fahim sat on one end of the coffee table, Cody at the other. There were a few others I had not seen as
much of since winter break. These I called only 'the girls,'s as most of their names at the moment I cannot recall.
I yawned as Justin started to speak.
"God, it feels like yesterday when we were all in middle school together."
Fahim nodded. Cody laughed. "Yeah, I know what you mean man. Remember the time we all were
playin floor hockey in gym and Stuart knocked out four of Samantha's teeth with the puck."
I smiled, my hand stroking Shaun's long hair. I listened as they began to chatter on about when they
had been children, carefree and innocent. They talked briefly of high school hijinks and the prom that was not so
magical.
I had not been thinking when I joined the conversation, sleep beginning to overthrow my common
sense.
"I remember once when we were in gym. We were all forced into the painful ritual of warm-up
exercises," I said. Slowly, heads began to turn towards me. "There was this guy, some of you might remember
him, Leland. He really pissed me off and I cut across the gym and popped him a good one, right in the jaw."
"Yeah," Shaun said sleepily. "And the coaches wanted to go break it up, but Mr. Roberts wouldn't
let them. When it was all over, you were laughing so hard you fell over."
I smiled. "And then-"
"And then he cried," Stuart said slowly.
Fahim blinked, then looked at Justin, who shrugged. Samantha stared at us. "After it was all over,
people kept calling you-"
"Mike Tyson," I finished for her with a nod. I gently pulled away from Shaun and rose. "I'm tired,
and Shaun is about to pass out." I picked up his wrists and pulled him to his feet. He was drunk, and my words
were not too far from the truth. I bid them good morning.
I slept until noon the following day.
I ate a beakfast of cold pizza and drank a small bottle of warm sake before going to the computer.
As soon as I logged online, I received numerous instant messages. I put on my away notice and checked the
status of my bank accounts. I smiled when I saw that my latest royalties check had gone through.
I signed offline when I heard Shaun come in. He'd gone grocery shopping. I helped him put away
our food before getting dressed.
I went to Josie's before going to the Old Woman's farm. I visited a while before going back into
town.
Once more, I was at a Waffle House, having a cup of coffee and reading the paper, something I had
not done the previous Sunday. A young woman approached me openly, and sat down in the booth across from
me.
"You've been in town all this time, and you haven't even bothered to stop by."
I did not look up from the paper. "I had assumed you wanted nothing to do with me."
"Like hell!" she exclaimed. Faces turned for a moment as I set the paper down on the table. I took a
sip of my coffee and smiled.
"I was under the impression you have no family."
This infuriated her, and she scoffed at me.
"I love you, too Eliza."
She frowned and ordered something to eat. I knew she did not have any money. When she was
through, I payed the bill, but remained in my seat. "How did you discover I was in town?" I asked calmly.
She sat back, lighting a cigarette despite her swolen abdomen. I said nothing of it. It was not my
place to. "I called Nana last week to tell her about Eva's latest stunt."
"Like mother like daughter," I replied. She glared at me.
"She told me you were here. I asked her why you didn't come see me, and she said it was because
you must not want to."
"And this makes you upset?" I asked with a calm smile.
"It took me forever to even find you! Jesus! I didn't even know-"
"What I looked like," I finished for her. Finishing my coffee. "Have you been following me?"
"No," she said, leaning forward to claim the ash tray. I could see beneath the cuff of her sleeve the
large bruise upon her pale wrist. I knew she'd been beaten again. I didn't care.
"When she said you'd changed, I didn't know she meant this."
I shrugged and made to get up. "Wait, where the hell do you think you're going?"
"I told my boyfriend I would be back for dinner," I replied.
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Boyfriend?"
I nodded and forced myself to lean in close for a hug. I slipped two twenties in her pocket. I knew
why she had come. It's the Stuarte reason she ever acknowledges she has a family. She wanted money.
I saw the expression on her face through the windows when she found the money in her pocket. I
smiled. Stuarte old Eliza. She at least, was a constant in this place. I could always count on her to be as self
destructive as she has always been.
The following day, I had gone to the school to begin preparing for students. Shaun had fallen behind
on his 'work scheduel' and when I left him, he was already at the computer, frantically trying to catch up.
I was in my office when I heard a light tap at the door. I looked up to see a young woman standing
in my doorway. I sat back with a kind smile as the slender woman came inside. "Can I help you?" I asked.
"Are you Mr. Takeuchi?" she asked.
I nodded. "Is there anything I can help you with?" I rose.
She smiled. "You're too young to be a teacher. I was expecting someone older." She shook her
head. "But, at least I'm not alone on that one." She extended her hand. After wiping mine on my trousers, I
shook it.
"My name is Karen. Karen Ritchell." She paused as I released her hand. "I'm going to be your intern
this year."
"Intern?" I asked with a raised brow. "I was not aware-"
She held out a paper. I read it quickly. It was from the principal. I laughed and set it on my desk.
"Well, Karen, there isn't going to be much work for you in my classes. Two of them run themselves, and the
third is a wild card."
"That's alright," she said, looking around. I noticed that like myself, she lacked the local accent.
"You're from the midwest aren't you?" I asked, clearing a space on the unused desk by the fax
machine.
"How can you tell?" she replied with a laugh. I only nodded, my suspicions confirmed. "Well, to tell
you the truth, I'm just studying here. I'm from South Dakota originally."
"Where do you go to school?"
"UGA," she replied, setting her bag down on the now vacant desk.
"Good school," I replied, then pointed to the door behind her. "Clean that out and organize it
however. That'll be your office. There's a mini-fridge already in there, and a microwave." I pointed to the ladder
that seemed to lead to no where beside the door. "That goes up to storage. The big black rotating door over
there is more storage."
She looked around and nodded. "Do you need me to do anything?" she asked once she'd finished
exploring the classroom.
"You can dust or something. Like I said, there's not really much to do. The kids do everything
themselves."
She nodded. That afternoon, I ordered a pizza and introduced her to a few of the others before
slipping back into my office.
She'd put up the generic school posters around the room, and was bored enough to reogranize the
few bookshelves. She straightened the desks and checked the printers for ink. When she was through, she sat in
one of the rolling chairs outside my door.
"So where are you from?" she asked. "Japan?"
I smiled. "I spent some time there, yes."
She looked at the wall behind me, at the few pictures I had taped to the beige painted cinder blocks
above my filing cabinets. Smiling faces of men and women I knew only trough my rounds on the convention
circuit. Jim's laughing face and Josie's suprised and sunburned cheeks. Justin's drunken stupor and Fahim's
practical jokes.
"Yeah, but you sound like a good southern boy to me," she said.
"I used to live in Florida," I said.
"Really, which part?"
"Central-East, midway between Orlando and Daytona," I said. This chit-chat was starting to bore
me.
I went home later, and played some X-Box. I slept. The next morning, I awoke and returned to
work as I always do. It was this way until the beginning of actual school.
Over the course of the semester, I had nearly gotten fired twice, avoided arrest once, and learned a
great deal of lore that circulated every so often around the town. But it was not until I received a frantic call at 3
AM on a Tuesday in late December that I did anything worth mentioning.
I raced to Samantha's, with Shaun in the passenger seat. When we arrived, the cops had already
swarmed the place. When I found her, Justin was holding back her hair as she vomited in the yard.
"What happened?" Shaun asked, neither upset nor excited.
Fahim took him to the side and told him. From here, I could see his expression change from one of
tiredness to one of pure disgust. I turned, and one of 'the girls' fell into my arms sobbing. This was Samantha's
older sister, also called Josie. It was from her mangled sobs I learned of what had taken place here.
Their sister, Samantha's own twin, had been murdered. Raped and mutilated.
The woman had been missing for almost a week, having gone camping with friends. Samantha had
come home from an anime convention to find the girl lying on the couch, at least, that is where her torso and
head had been found.
I passed the crying girl off before aproaching Justin and Samantha. Police had restrained Stuart, who
had brought his trusty shotgun and set up guard beside the front door.
The day after New Years, I learned Samantha's parents had her committed. Shaun and I had
considered visiting her, but Stuart had warned us against it.
We had spent the remainder of winter break in Atlanta. There was a yaoi convention Shaun had
been asked to attend. I spent the first day helping him set up his booth, signing autographs for those that
recognized me, and helped sell some of Shaun's doujinshi. The second day, I spent until noon with Shaun before
he told me to go wander around and bring him back lots of souveniers.
I chatted with a few of my fellow manga artists that I had not seen since I had left Japan. They were
more than grateful to hear their native tongue again.
The third day, Shaun was on a panel, leaving me and some of my friends from Florida to handle the
booth until he could come back. He and I made a little fuss for the fangirls that crowded around when they
caught us just having a small innocent kiss.
The remainder of the convention, I spent wandering around, catching up with old friends and former
collegues.
"Evalyn!"
I kept walking.
"Evalyn!"
There was a tug at my arm. I shook it off and turned. "Excuse me?"
I received a big hug. "Yuki. Yuki. Yuki."
I pried the large woman off of me in disgust. "I'm sorry. You have me mistaken for someone else."
"Doria! I found her!" the woman exclaimed, clinging to my arm as she dragged me around as if I
were a rag doll. "Doria! Cassie!"
Again, I tried to pry myself from her grasp, but her hands were like iron shakles around my arm,
threatening to snap my bones should I move the wrong direction. I was dragged past my lover's booth, where I
saw for a brief second another familiar face, and a hand pointed at me.
I did my best to make a pleading look, but Shaun only laughed as the woman he'd been speaking to
hurried in our direction.
"Oh my god! Eval!"
I knew I had been caught when the first woman had called out that wretched name and I would not
turn around. "It's just Araki now," I said casually to the woman who instantly found herself clinging to my slender
waist.
"Look at you!" she exclaimed as she nuzzled against my chest. "I can't believe it!" She chattered on
seemingly endlessly until the others had found me. The gaggle of girls would not let me go until I felt an arm slide
around my waist from behind, possessively pulling me back against his familiar frame.
"Sorry girls, but this stud's mine."
"Oh? And who is this gorgeous bishounen?" one girl asked as Shaun nipped at my neck.
"Ara-kun, I'm hungry," he whined, his fingers toying with the waistband of my jeans. "The guys are
waiting."
"Darling, these are some old friends of mine. Roselina, Tyta, Cassie..." I gave each young woman a
name. There were eight in all. Shaun seemed disinterrested, but the girls didn't notice. Shaun played with my hair
a bit as the girls chattered on a bit longer. Before we were able to get away, I had promised to meet them for
dinner the last day of the convention.
The remainder of the convention passed without incident.
We returned home, and began to settle back into our normal routine. Shower. Sex. Food. TV.
Unbeknownst to us, our peaceful days were soon to be at an end.
This troublesome time began with a late night phone call in March. When Shaun had answered, there
was no one on the other end. This kept up for a few weeks before I had our number changed, giving the new
one to the necessary people. It was, of course, unlisted.
By the time summer came around, we had already gone through 3 sets of locks. A new bedroom
window. And Shaun's SUV had been totaled while we were away in New Hampshire for his grandfather's
funer