The following is a work of fiction. The story may contain profanity and references to gay sex. Any relation to similar events or persons, fiction or real, is completely fortuitous. If such content offends you please leave now. The author retains all rights to the story. Do not copy or use without written authority from the author. Write Bobby at email@example.com with your comments.
Have you forgotten all I know, and all we had?
You saw me mourning my love for you
And touched my hand
I knew you loved me then
I believe in you
I'll give up everything just to find you
I have to be with you, to live, to breathe
You're taking over me
Taking Over Me © by Evanescence, 2003
Control. It's extraordinary the tactics people employ to obtain it. Some rely on deception while others engage in outright trickery. Then there are those who resort to extortion. Why do we fight so hard for control? Because we know to lose it is to put our fate in the hands of others. And what could be more dangerous?
© by Marc Cherry, 2005
The familiar white '05 Ranger sat parked under a flowering tree. A Star Wars sticker in the lower left corner of the rear windshield contrasted greatly against the dark tint. I bought that sticker. I helped pick out the spot it's in. The tailgate is open making it easy to see the scratches on the bed. Usually it's down for less wind resistance, but I always refuted that theory. Could the tailgate provide that much drag? Enough to create a dramatic decrease in fuel economy? Doubtfully. It was always fun having arguments about the topic, though, especially since they generally ended with our pants down. I'm dreading the fact that in only a few short minutes I'll be in the same room as the driver.
Another familiar vehicle, an old, green Mercury Tracer, pulled into the empty spot right next to my car. From the eighties music I could hear coming through the windows I knew it was Claire. Not that the car itself didn't tip me off. Something was different about her car this morning, though. Ah, it's clean.
"Oh, Jesus!" Claire dramatically cried as she stepped out of the car. "It's colder than Alaska out here! I hope it doesn't rain."
Beats me how she could possibly be anything but warm. She's wearing a thick winter jacket, jeans, a knitted beanie, and a pair of black sheepskin boots, which I find atrocious. Call me conceited, but I'm sure she only wears the boots because she knows how much I despise them.
"You are always crying about the cold. Come summer you'll be wishing it was as cold as Alaska." I threw back at her.
Tossing her purse on her shoulder, she replied, "I love summer. Beach trip!" I rolled my eyes. "How's it feel to be back to school? Excited for some work? You know you're going to have to kiss a lot of ass. Professor Sylvester might not let you slide in bio, especially not for lab."
"Don't think I haven't already thought of that. The break up screwed me over in more ways than one. It's entirely possible I'm going to be in the C-range for a while. But, Claire, I have to have a 3.0 this semester."
"It's my New Year's resolution. A 3.0 for spring semester."
"You set an educational goal for your resolution?" she asked in disbelief. I nodded slowly. "Out of all the other things you could've set up, you chose education. I believe it. You are so gay."
I laughed, "Shut up,"
The morning chill stung my bare skin. Silly me I forgot a jacket. No big deal. I'm usually without one anyway. It doesn't take much to increase my temperature, which is why I dislike the summer months. Me plus heat equals misery.
Claire was mostly silent as we walked to our bio room, texting on her phone rapidly. I took in my surroundings. The college campus sat nestled in a mountainous environment, overlooking the surrounding cities. Dense patches of trees shadowed many of the classrooms and other buildings. One of the best features of the college is its foliage. Vast numbers of flowers and blossoming bushes lined the walkways and paths making a picture perfect campus. Often times, Claire, Lizzy, Olivia, Trevor and I would grab lunch from the café and eat in the grassy knolls as would many other students. The coming months were going to be perfect to eat on the grass again, but those times will be incredibly different because of the one missing person.
Walking up the flight of concrete steps, the two of us passed by a designated smoking area. Claire stared evilly at the cancerous death sticks and the suicidal people puffing on them. She and I share a special hatred of smoking. What I mean by smoking is any kind of smoking; weed, hookah, cigarettes, cigars, they're all the same. I'm particularly against the use of weed. It's such a hype and I have no idea why. Yeah, making yourself psychologically unstable is fun. And drugs? Our generation, and the generation after us, is doomed. With all the kids doing drugs and ruining their nervous systems, they're going to be reduced to living with paranoia and uncontrollable eye twitches. Does anyone actually expect them to solve global warming-even though that's a crock-or to find an alternative energy source that is just as valuable as fossil fuels or come up with a cure for HIV-which they probably already contracted from all the heroin injections?
Hmph. I'd like to see a stoner try.
Trevor smoked weed once, and tried to hide it from me. I found out through a mutual friend by accident. Boy, what a mess that was. To say I was enraged would be an understatement. It wasn't really the fact that he smoked. I could've easily overlooked that. It was the fact that he lied to me about it. Our confrontation was volatile and extensively drawn out. Normally after an argument, make up sex would ensue. Well, this fight was so bad we didn't talk for a couple of days. Not many fights ended up in that way. That was bar none one of the worst we'd ever had.
Enough about Trevor. I'm trying to move on, not stay stuck in the past. Today is going to be a good day. First day back at school. I've got my best friend next to me. I'll see my other besties in a couple of hours. Going to have lunch with Tyler later. And I've been considering searching for another job. The most recent one I had I was forced to resign from. My shift was overnight and the lack of sleep was causing me to become depressed and moody. My grades slipped a little, too. That was a couple of months ago at Target. Before that, though, I held a position at a grocery store as a bagger. Not to pat my own back, but I was a pretty fast bagger. I was laid off from that job because the store was downsizing. Tyler didn't like the idea of me having a job anyway. He always said that as long as I stayed out of trouble and continued going to school he'd pay for anything that needed to be paid for. That includes a monthly cell phone bill, car insurance, gas, and random spending money. When I had either job I was able to pay for my own gas and cell phone bill and have extra money in my wallet. It was a nice feeling to take such responsibility. Tyler won't like the fact that I'm in the market for a new job, but whatever. He can get over it.
Starbucks would be a nice place to work at. I have hundreds of choices around here. They're on almost every bloody corner. Free Frapuccinos! And green is definitely my color. Claire works at a Starbucks in the mall. I can ask her to try to get me in, or at least help me get my foot in the door.
Past the stairs of lung cancer, an immediate right brought us to our biology room. Several people whom I remember from the young days of class were sitting in different seats. Claire led me to our table, which we actually did declare as our table on the first day of class. Professor Sylvester is a strict son of a gun, but underneath all the sarcasm and occasional rudeness she is a decent human being. She runs her classroom like a damn military operation. This semester isn't the first time Claire nor I have had her. Last semester we took Sylvester for chemistry. What a tense beginning that was.
"Sylvester is going to flip when she sees you back in class. I hope you're prepared for what she might say." Claire rummaged through her purse, probably for a pen.
"I'm ready." She should have enough decency in her soul to go gentle on the topic of missing a week of school because of a break up. And-Dear God! Who am I kidding? It's gonna be open season on my ass! Trevor will be desks away from me! Sylvester won't be able to fucking resist. Oh, damn it. Damn it all to hell. "Today is going to suck."
And as if on cue, the reason for my hell walked in through the door at the other end of the room. Our eyes locked and remained focused on each other. Claire glanced up from her phone, but her tactic is to pretend those she doesn't like don't exist. Finally he broke the gaze and took a seat with one of his friends a few tables behind me.
"Just ignore him, Travers. Don't let him get under your skin."
"Easier said than done." I took a deep breath and focused on the many different posters lining the walls.
"Ugh, I forgot my coffee in the car."
"Go run and get it,"
"Are you insane? Sylvester will be here any second. Tardiness to her counts as an absence. I am not wasting an absence on coffee."
"Guess you'll just have to wait a couple of hours for your next fix."
Several students came flocking in through either of the two doors. One girl said she saw Sylvester heading towards the class. Another few people came in through the doors quickly, out of breath, clearly sprinting for the room. A couple of people said hi to me. One of the doors swung open and in walked professor Sylvester.
"Morning class. Everyone pass forward the questions from last week and . . ." She trailed off as she focused on me. "Well, well, well, look what the gay fairy drug into my room. Queerbait is back!" She raised her arms in mock celebration.
"Yes, I'm back." I already felt amused. Today might not be as horrible as I thought it was going to be. Sylvester, however crass, is exceptionally humorous.
"I thought you jumped off a bridge and swam down river. Damn, I already sent off a farewell card to Loserville. What a waste of postage. I'll be sure to charge you for that." Her attention focused back on the class. "In high honor of queerbait returning to us, five extra points on the assignment. Thank me later by not signing up for any class of mine ever again."
Everyone shared a silent agreement, not that her offer was serious. I'm not sure how many people actually want to take another class of hers. It takes a special kind of person to withstand her sarcasm and humor. Claire once said Sylvester has a few complaints filed against her, but what can anyone do? You're in college so get used to being around adults. I hate when I hear people wanting to file complaints against professors because they let out a few 'shits' or 'damns'. Seriously, it's college so get over it.
"See me after class, queerbait. We have much to discuss."
I'm sure it's to figure out how I'll be making the missed work up, or not. It won't bug me too much if I don't have the opportunity to make up anything. It is my fault, after all, that I missed a week of school. Although Trevor is the cause of my absence, I chose not to move out of bed. So as much as I want to blame him I can't.
Sylvester went on discussing the topic they were already half way finished with. To catch up will definitely take a couple of days, not even including the other work in my others class. I casually looked around the room and everyone appeared to know what she was talking about. I felt so out of place and retarded for ever missing a single day. Fucking Trevor. Thanks for ruining my resolution. No, I can do this. I can rise out of the ash and shine brighter than before. I've done it previously, anyway, and I did shine brighter.
10:20 finally rolled around.
"See you all at 1:50 sharp." Sylvester sat at her desk and watched her students file out of the room.
"Don't forget to bring your lab book, Travers." Claire reminded me. Good thing too because I remember seeing it at home on my desk. Usually it's kept in my trunk, but the day before Trevor dumped me I was doing work in it.
"Yeah, thanks for reminding me. I so would've forgotten it at home. I'll grab it after lunch. See you then." I went up to the professor's desk and awaited to hear how far behind I am.
"I don't care what happened between you and marshmallow cheeks, nor do I want to know. What I care about is how you'll be pulling your grade back up because it has suffered. Missing my class is unacceptable, and I know you missed your others as well."
"Things just buried me. I don't blame anyone but myself."
"Good. Unfortunately, I am going to remain true to my no late work policy, so a total of sixty-seven points will be counted against your grade bringing it straight down to a low C. There is still a lot of time left in the semester so I expect you to receive an A once again."
Okay, a C. Much less horrifying than I thought it was going to be. I can work with that and bring it up without a problem. Science is my strong point.
"Don't worry. I'll have that A back in no time."
"That is just your lecture grade. Your lab grade is a D, which will be much harder to raise back up to an A. Your work needs to be flawless."
"Now get the hell out of my classroom and for God's sake stop dressing so fruity."
Fruity? I'm wearing a dark green shirt. Oh, that Sylvester! What a relief to hear that I can bring my grades back up. And an even bigger relief that she never brought up the fact that she could've dropped me from the class after the third absence. School is going to be my main focus until the end of the semester. With no boyfriend to distract me it shouldn't be a challenge. Though I will miss our study sessions, which turned into, yes as you guessed, fuck sessions. We were horny guys with a lot of passion for one another. Like a light bulb, passion fades without warning, though.
Three weeks ago . . .
Trevor called a few minutes ago. He had to go run a couple of errands and then would be over. I informed him of the fact no one was home and wouldn't be for a few hours. I knew that put a rush in his plans. While waiting for him I took a slow, luxurious shower, scrubbing every inch of my body. I turned the water off, dried myself, and put on deodorant and Trevor's favorite cologne of mine. Then to kill time I went on my computer and played a little Roller Coaster Tycoon 3: Platinum. Hell, that's not even a time killer. That's a time murderer, rapist, slaughterer. Any of those would fit in better than killer.
I heard faint commotion outside. Tyler, Jared, Keegan, and Torry walked in through the front door. They were carrying bags of groceries. The clock on the oven made me realize I had burnt three and a half hours playing that damn game, and not one word from Trevor. Exiting the game, I signed on Facebook. As I was scrolling down my news feed I saw he posted something twenty minutes ago. What sense did that make? He was supposed to come over here after his errands. He only had to go to the bank and then buy a few new shirts. Simple things like that take, what, an hour? Three and a half hours later he's posting online.
Going to my bed, I grabbed my cell phone and texted him. I was so pissed off. Why would he blow me off like that?
I just got tired and felt like taking a nap. I'll come over later.
Really? He couldn't have taken a nap here? How many times before has he come over just to sleep? A dozen just this month? I decided it was better to just let it go, for he would be here later and we could start what never began.
"Later" . . .
Trevor plowed into me roughly, just like old times. The powerful thrusts hit the right spot every single time, bringing me to sheer ecstasy. I planted kisses on his neck, nibbling on his ear lobe. Something was strange, though. For the past ten minutes he didn't look me in the eye. He either kept his eyes closed or simply looked the other way.
"Mmmph, oh, oh, jeez," He was cumming. I hadn't cum yet. Trevor always makes me cum first, then finishes himself off. Perhaps after he's done he'll take care of me . . .
He pulled out and rested next to me. Well, sort of next to me. There was about a foot and a half between us. There was no sign of him even wanting to finish me off. It was okay, though, since all the tension in the air was quickly deflating my erection.
"Can I ask you something?" I said quietly. I was afraid of saying anything really.
"Is everything okay?"
I bit my lip. "Why didn't you look at me during?"
Instead of answering, or maybe it was an answer, he got out of bed and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Since when does he shut the door? I recall thinking I must've done something wrong to really piss him off. But if that were the case, then why the sex? I curled up in the blanket. Many horrible thoughts flashed through my mind. A few minutes later, Trevor came from the bathroom and got ready to leave. Before walking out the door, he gave me a quick peck on the cheek and said he'd call me the next day. I kept going over what could have possibly been wrong, but nothing came to mind.
I never got that phone call.
On my way to history a few friends mentioned how crazy I was for not wearing a jacket on such a cold day. I'm nervous for this class more so than I was for biology. I specifically took this class with Trevor, meaning I know only a couple of people other than him. And those people are more casual acquaintances than friends, so basically I'm alone in the class today. Great. Just great. This is going to be so incredibly awkward.
The seats were already mostly filled. The only open seats were towards the front as usual. Trevor was sitting far away from any of them, though, so that's at least lucky. Professor McClane barged into the room and mentioned he hoped everyone had a nice weekend. We locked eyes for a moment before he went straight into his lecture. From what he was talking about I knew I was going to have one hell of a time catching up. I definitely won't be having a social life for the next few days. I can't wait to see how far behind in English I am. At least that's tomorrow and not today. Not sure I'd be able to handle too much failure in one day.
McClane began lecturing about the Industrial Revolution. I was going in and out of paying attention. The nagging feeling of Trevor's eyes staring at me from behind was grabbing my full attention. It's driving me insane how calm he appears to be. He broke up with me, yeah, so he should already be okay, but why does he have to be so cheery? I'm devastated. He's chipper. There's something wrong with that.
"Travers," McClane said, breaking me out of my self-pity reverie. "Since you seem to be so deep in thought, why don't you tell us the date of Lincoln's assassination and by whom he was assassinated?"
"Uh," I mumbled. "April 14th, 1865, by John Wilkes Booth." Living with a United States history teacher serves its purpose well.
"Ford Theatre, Washington, D.C.,"
"Well, for someone who pays little attention in this class you certainly know your history."
"My dad teaches US history at East Valley High School."
"Hm, you certainly have a higher advantage than the others now, don't you?"
"I guess so,"
"What's your dad's name?"
"That name rings a bell, but I can't place him." He rubbed his chin. "Anyway, moving right along."
Class ended not a single moment too soon. My stomach has been rumbling for the past half hour, and I really want some Mexican food. But just as I was rounding a building, I heard my name being called.
The voice made chills go down my spine. He came up behind me. His scent made certain things stand at attention.
"Glad to see you back in class."
"I am," Trevor frowned. "I want to be friends, Travers. I told you that."
"Why? Why do you want to torture me any more? You broke my heart. Give me one reason why we should be friends."
You know, I tend to dislike the morons who accept their ex's friendship. Sure, it's okay if the break up wasn't rough or it was a mutual decision or if it wasn't a lengthy term. But the way Trevor broke up with me gives no reason why I should continue a friendship with his lame ass. Just talking to him right now is upsetting.
"It's been five years since we first met. Seems stupid to throw all that away."
"Really? Seriously? You're the one who threw it all away. You threw it all away a week ago. Shows how much five years means to you."
"Don't be like this. I know how stubborn you can be. I also know you want to talk still. So stop acting like your brother and let us be friends."
I shook my head and shuffled away. There were a few choice words I wanted to scream at him, but starting a scene would not have gone favorably for either of us. The last thing I need is a crowd of onlookers and a week of people whispering behind my back. Claire would love it, though. She isn't much of a gossiper, but the occasional scandal is irresistible to her. Then again, everyone loves a scandal. They provide excitement and mystery to the monotony of life.
I hope you all enjoyed the new chapter. 9-11 is just around the corner. It's crazy to think it's been ten years. It feels so much longer than that. But regardless of the time, America won't ever forget. Be sure to wear America's colors and pay small tribute to honor those who were taken from this earth in such a terrible manner.
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