Date: Sun, 17 Dec 2000 12:54:57 EST
From: Aaron002@aol.com
Subject: The Stranded Boy, Chase

"Fuck if I know," I said without a second thought.  So he turned around and
walked away.  Shit, I thought.  Did I do it again?  Did I turn away another
person trying to be my friend?  I wanted so desperately to run after him
and apologize, but I knew that I wouldn't.  It wasn't in me to apologize.
I turned the other way and began to walk to my second block class.

Slowly walking towards class, I wondered if I was meant to be this alone,
or if it was just idiocy that had brought this upon me.  I suppose it must
have been my fault because I never tried to make conversation.  I wasn't
into "small talk".  I hated hanging out at the mall with people I couldn't
stand. I hated the sound of video games at the arcades - you know, the ones
where most of the boys my age hung out.  I definitely wasn't into going to
the movies every Friday night with the guys, or the girls for that matter.
Of course, I wasn't at all normal.  I loved hockey though.  I loved to
swim, but I did neither in the company of others. No one could force me out
of my clothes, into shorts, and into a pool full of teenagers.  No one
could force me into pads and onto the ice.  I suppose I'm weird that way,
to love something but not to be able to be near it.

Arriving to the front door of my history class, I sighed.  I hated
Ms. Watts's class.  She always made her students stand in front of the
their peers to make stupid presentations.  I never got lower than an A- on
any of my presentations, but I still hated the thought of having to speak
so loudly in front of my idiot classmates.  They were so dumb; they barely
understood half the words coming out of my mouth.  Then I'd have to answer
their questions for a separate grade.  "Dude, what's the meaning of
'circumspect?" one of them would ask.  "Huh?" I'd retort, even though I'd
heard.  "What are you talking about?" I'd ask, hoping he'd leave me alone.
"You said it in your presentation.  What does it mean?"  Then I'd answer.
It was always like that.

So I entered the classroom.  I was five minutes late like I always am.  (I
had a permanent seat in the detention room).  I sat at my usual seat in the
back of the room where I usually either slept or read books I'd bought at
my favorite store, Barnes and Nobles.  Boring, boring, boring, I thought.
So I slept.

When I awoke, it was ten forty-five.  There was no one left in the class.
But then, a boy tall boy about my age entered.  "Hey, is Ms. Watts here?"
he asked.

"Do you see anyone here but me?" I asked.  Was it just me or was he
absolutely beautiful?  I could make out hazel eyes with specs of gold, and
the lightest brown hair.  He was tall and lanky, at least 5'11".  He was a
bit tanned.  It looked almost natural.  He stared at me, was he smiling?
Jerk!

"Well, if she comes back, tell her Nicholas came around, but she wasn't
here, k?"

"Um, no."  I answered with a bit of attitude.  Did I look like his
messenger by any chance?  "What do I look like?  Your lackey?  I'm leaving,
myself.  Why don't you wait and tell her?"  I tend to be defensive and
insubordinate when I feel a bit attracted to other boys.  But, he was
laughing.  Jerk!

"Fine, I'll stay here and wait for her.  But tell me your name so I can
tell her that you didn't want help me out."

"Or you can just go to hell."  I answered, staring straight into his
beautiful eyes.  It was my turn to laugh.

"Fine.  Whatever."

I stood up and left.  My heart began to race.  Why did I leave?  He was so
beautiful.  His facial features were so effeminate.  They were perfectly
symmetrical.  His eyes sparkled even though the lights of the room were
cheap and fluorescent.  His lips were a dark pink, almost red.  I'm such a
wuss.  I decided to go back.  I wouldn't let this pass me by.  I ran back
toward the class.

When I reached the room, Ms. Watts was there.  I almost ran back, but I
instead I froze.  Just seeing him there seemed to glue me to the floor.
Either that or it was the mold on the carpet.  I wouldn't be surprised if
it was the latter; my school is disgustingly dirty and old.  She sat behind
her desk, with him in the desk nearest hers.  They were having a
conversation about his grades.  He seemed to be asking for a favor, or
maybe an extension on an assignment. "Chase!"  I heard.  Oh shit, she saw
me.  "Did you enjoy your rest in my class?"

"I guess."  I muttered dully.

"I see you've already met Nick."

"Yea."  I could barely speak.  I was a wise ass, why was this happening?

"Cat got your tongue?  What are you doing back here? Looking for
something?"

"Yea, I wanted to apologize for falling asleep.  I didn't really get enough
last night.  And I remembered that I forgot to give you my homework."  I
was a good liar.

"You wanted to apologize?  You know, you're lucky that you're such a good
student, that you do well on the quizzes and the tests because sleeping in
class is forbidden, not to mention rude.  And in any case, I won't accept
it.  If it happens again, I'm kicking you out.  And if you get sent back
in, I'm failing you!"  Of course I understood.  It was disrespectful, but I
did it everyday.  It was routine.  "Anyway," she continued, "this is Nick,
and he needs a tutor.  If you want to raise your participation grade -
which is a zero right now for all the sleeping you've done- you'll tutor
him and get a solid A.  But only if you can help him get at least a B."

"What class is he in?"  I knew that it wouldn't be long until I dropped to
the floor, I was so anxious.  Was I really being given the opportunity to
speak to and teach this kid?  "I mean, I can't teach or tutor what I don't
know."

"I'm in American History.  A junior."  he interrupted.  "I'm not doing that
bad.  I just need to get a B for basketball.  I need to have at least a 2.7
GPA to play."  I was 18 and a senior.  I did extremely well in American
History.

"Right," I said raising my left eyebrow.  I knew nothing of rules for
school sports.  "Whatever.  When do we start?"  I asked, looking at
Ms. Watts.

"How are Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays?  I'll keep my classroom open for
you."

"OK, cool.  I'll see him then.  I mean, I'll see you then."  I faced him,
and again he smiled.  I took my backpack from my shoulders, took out my
homework, and handed it to my teacher.  She smiled.  I did my best to fake
one too.  Bleh, I hated faking docility.

As I left the room, my mind went wild with ideas of Nick and I together in
that classroom.  I wondered how smart he was.  Then I remembered that he
was on the basketball team.  I thought of how much his muscles flexed every
time he took a shot, of what he looked like in the showers after practice
or maybe a game.  Oh, he must look wonderful with sweat covering his face,
his biceps.  I laughed and walked happily to lunch.


(c) 2000 Nicholas Parker