Date: Mon, 10 Apr 2006 20:14:42 -0700 (PDT) From: Jo Jo Subject: Wayward People Chap 21-"The Bad Man Took Him" Disclaimer: The usual rules apply here. If you aren't legal in your area to be reading material(non erotic, mind you) about homosexuals and the activities they may or may not participate in, then please don't read. This story has been copyrighted and is not to be used elsewhere in any way without the express permission of the author (that would be me). For everyone else, enjoy! Wayward People Chapter Twenty One-"The Bad Man Took Him" Dear...Well. Whoever, I guess this is to everyone. This is kinda hard for me to get out. I mean, I already know I'm going to die from this ridiculous cancer thing. Treatment doesn't help. Mom and dad just act like nothing's wrong with me to save face in the community. I guess every parent in this town is just like every other one. They're all hypocrites. I didn't want Mike to know because I didn't want him to see me weak. But then....he found out. And he pushed me away. That was hard for me. Really hard. I've tried to be strong, but it hurts. Everything just hurts. And I don't like the hurt. I know Mike will be fine without me when I'm gone. Max, Sienna...even Troy, they all really care about him. They won't let him be sad when I'm gone. When I'm gone....ugh...that sounds horrible. But I'm afraid that's what my fate is, one way or another. Well, I suppose this is my goodbye. Will God consider my death my fault if I was going to die anyway? -Pete What were the signs that told you that a person was hardcore? Bad? Hated life and was ready to let everyone know it? I didn't know, but I sure as hell was trying to find that out. Life without Pete was...hard. It had been nearly a month since he'd passed away, and I was far from over it. At first I was in some people would call denial. Nothing too bad though. I just refused to accept him being dead. Then I was angry. I was angry at Pete because when we got right down to it, it was his fault he was dead. It wasn't his fault he had cancer, but he didn't try to do anything about that either. And when he finally decided to try, in the end, he gave up anyway. He wanted to blame me for pushing him away, just like it said in that note. But I wasn't going to blame myself. Who did Pete think he was helping by killing himself. If that's even what happened. No one really knew. Or at least, I really didn't know. I'd have liked to think that Pete was stronger than that. But there was apparently a lot I didn't know about him. Either way, he was gone. And I was far from being sad. I was angry. I stayed angry for a few weeks. But then yesterday, I woke up feeling...different. I had a new outlook on life. And that outlook was that life sucked. It sucked a lot. When I actually thought about it, Pete being dead was actually a little amusing. I mean, just when I finally found out who I really was and was about to fully give myself to Pete, he was gone. It always seemed to work that way with suck-ass life. You never know what you have until you don't have it anymore. After that, you're left with bitter. I liked bitter. Bitter suited me a lot better than being upset, or sad, or even happy. Bitter let me see my life and everyone else's for what it was. No one was happy. Life made sure of that. "Oh we should really start thinking about what we want to do for spring vacation," my mother spoke as she set a plate of pancakes on the table. I had since moved back into my own house. Everyone thought it would be a good idea. I didn't care either way. Pete would still be dead no matter where I lived. I just stopped caring, really. "It'll be February next week and I don't want to miss out on booking a flight somewhere," my mom said, taking a seat at the table. "Always the early planner," my dad said, biting into a piece of toast. "I was thinking that maybe we could all go wherever you'd like to go, Michael," my mom said, smiling over at me. You'd think me being asked to come back home and her actually talking to me would mean something, wouldn't you? When the truth was, I wasn't quite sure what her deal was. She was civilized, I'd give her that, but as to whether or not she accepted me.... I noticed she didn't favor talking about anything that had anything at all to do with being gay. I noticed, but I didn't care. "Can you book a flight back in time so Pete would still be alive?" I asked, nonchalantly pouring some syrup over my pancakes. There was a distinct silence in the room that I had only noticed after I looked up. Apparently, I was doing and saying a lot of things that caused those kinds of silences. I was just so used to being and feeling this way, I hardly noticed when I'd said the wrong thing. And I'd obviously said the wrong thing. "Michael, it's been a month," my dad started. "Really?" I replied, starting to cut my pancakes. "I hadn't noticed." I had noticed. I counted every day like I was counting down to something. Pete wasn't coming back, though. "That's alright, you're still grieving," my mother said. "I understand." "Actually I was serious," I replied. "You're a busybody mom. I'm sure you know someone smart enough to build that time machine I asked for." "Michael-" "Yeah mom?" Everyone was staring at me. Was this me? Did I honestly actually LIKE attention? "Hon...do you need to talk some more with Dr. Sanchez?" my mom asked, touching my hand. Oh yeah. Her. I hadn't forgotten the fact that they'd made me go talk with the shrink some more. Then again, if my son had been carrying on like a dead person wasn't dead, I'd have been concerned too. I looked down at where her hand was touching mine and moved it. "I'm sure they sell pills for crazy old me," I replied calmly. "No need for a two hundred dollar an hour therapist." "Mike, come on," my dad started. "And weren't we talking about spring break?" I cut him off. "Okay, so no time machine. Continue." There was another silence in which I almost felt bad, knowing I was the reason for it. Almost. "Uh....right," my mom started, looking away from me. "Uh...Troy. How's Canada around March? Still cold I presume." I looked over at Troy with a smirk on my face. I of all people knew that Troy hated having to be forced to talk about where he was from. He didn't mind telling us things when they were on his own terms, but if he was forced.... "Yeah Troy," I started, looking over at him. "How is Canada in March?" I was perfectly aware that I was being malevolent. But by now I didn't care. This was almost fun. Troy cleared his throat and tried to continue fixing his plate but it was obvious that he was uncomfortable. Obvious to me at least. "Uh....well-" "I hear they have all kinds of stuff up there," I started. "And that everyone's rich and has a butler." Okay, so Troy had said that he wasn't rich. But that woman on the phone had specifically stated that she couldn't trust the information her butler gave her and that she was Troy's mom. Well, she was his step mom anyway. It had me wondering if Troy's mother was dead or something. Troy flashed me a look so cold, it would have scared me if the situation were different. I just grinned at him and continued to fix my plate. I mean, being a jerk was kinda fun. It almost made me see why Evan was such a jackass to me and everyone else. `You know that reminds me, I have yet to speak with either of your parents, Troy," my mom started. And yet you'd think something like that would be the first thing you'd do when a strange kid starts sleeping in your house. Or at least tried to see if they were still alive. I at least thought of that. Amazing to me why no one else had. "Well, they're kinda busy," Troy replied. "I'm not sure you'd ever be able to reach em." "What do they do?" my mom asked. Yep, stuff that should have been covered five months ago. Troy looked at me again before looking back at his plate. He suddenly looked a lot more confident. Like he was in control of the situation or something. "Oh I never told you?" he spoke. "I thought I told you. I thought I told Mike at least." Me? He was trying to rope me into this? "Mike why didn't you tell us you knew something about Troy's parents?" my mom asked. I looked over at Troy who seriously looked like he was trying to keep from smirking just then. I squinted my eyes at him briefly before attending to my food again. I wasn't about to let him be a little shit to me. "You know mom, it's a little late to be trying to play meet the parents, wouldn't you say?" I asked. "It was just a simple question Michael," my mom replied. "No need to get an attitude." I'd pretty much had a permanent attitude for few weeks now, I just hadn't let it show. And ordinarily, I'm sure all of my little discrepancies wouldn't have gone unpunished, but they probably figured I was still grieving. And I was so past that. "Regardless, I'd still like to know what your parents do, if that's alright with you Troy," my mom replied. If that was alright with Troy? Hell, okay, why don't on my next trip to the supermarket, I kidnap a kid, bring him home and give him a room downstairs? Since they were okay with Troy living here and not knowing anything about him, I'm sure they'd be okay with that. "My dad's a pilot," Troy started. A what-it? "And my mom's a doctor," Troy replied. What? I looked over at Troy who was looking at me with a testing look. It was almost like he knew that I knew that he was lying and he was just waiting to see what my next move would be. I would have detested his little spout of untrue facts if I hadn't suddenly thought of something. If my mom wanted to go to Canada so badly, then she'd probably want to visit Troy's parents. And when we got there and she saw they weren't doctors and pilots.....well, we'd be coming back short a person. Hopefully. I guess, for all intensive purposes, I considered myself alone in this world. I no longer had a mom or a dad. Or a brother. Hell, no boyfriend, no the rest of them. I just didn't care anymore. So I didn't care if Troy was here or not. "Oh, those are very respectable jobs," my mother spoke with a job. Duh. Not like Troy was going to tell her his parents were drug-dealing crackheads. Because that wasn't a respectable job. "I can see why you say we'd never be able to reach them," my mother replied. "Those two jobs would keep you quite busy. I can attest to the doctor's position." "So because you volunteer as a nurse in your spare time you all of a sudden think you know a little something about working long hours?" I spoke. I'd said it as plainly as possible. It had actually been something I was thinking. But I was doing a lot of `saying what was on my mind' lately. "Mike, why don't you go upstairs and get finish getting ready for school," my dad spoke. "I'll be upstairs to talk to you in a little bit." Talk to me? Talk to me about what? I just shrugged and took a final bite of my pancakes before taking care of my plate and heading up the stairs. Those people were a lot more depressing since the last time I'd lived here. Of course, back then I was a mostly happy closet case. It wasn't until I got back in my room and had a look around that I realized that I was already finished getting ready for school. Just because I hated life didn't mean that I was suddenly going to become sloppy and lazy. I took care of what needed to be done. So I just had a seat on the edge of my neatly made bed. For some reason, I was in a good mood. Pete was gone and never coming back, but I was in a good mood. Troy had just lied to my parents, but I was in a good mood. I'd just pissed off my parents and Troy, but I was in a good mood. I was in a good mood because.....I'd pissed off people. Because Pete was dead, not so much. But being a badass made me feel good inside. It made me feel a hell of a lot better than when I had to think to myself. That was what I hated the most. Having to think to myself. Because when I had time to think, I started thinking about all the good times with Pete I'd had. And then I'd get sad. And then I'd start to cry. Just like I had started doing now. I hadn't even realized it until dad came into my room and sat on the bed next to me, trying to calm me down. "It's okay Mike," he spoke, rubbing my back. I wiped my eyes and tried to control myself. I couldn't cry. Or at least, I had thought I had no tears left. Apparently, that wasn't the case. "You're still hurting," my dad replied. "Losing someone you love hurts. For a long time. I should know." It occurred to me that he knew what he was talking about. His best friend died right before he met my mom. He knew about loss. But his loss was a different loss. He lost his friend, I lost my boyfriend. Who decided which loss was worse? "But eventually, you'll realize that everything happens for a reason," dad said. "God has a plan for everyone. Your mother showed me that." I finally stopped sniffling and looked over at my dad. Pete's dying had shown me a little something off my own. "There is no God," I spoke plainly and calmly, before grabbing my backpack and heading for the stairs. I had school. Had my school always been like this? Such a zoo of a place to go to? I guess I had never really realized that, even in a small town, a high school was still a high school. There were, of course, the preps, consisting of anybody on any of the sports teams, which usually was comprised of any of the popular kids, and the cheerleaders. I always loved how you only had a real shot of making any team in high school as long as you were popular. Then there were the `deadbeats' as I called them, or the `people who didn't go to church' as everyone else called them. That was actually a large group consisting of the stoners, the Goths, the wannabes, the losers and everyone else. Ooh, I was an `everyone else' now. How exciting. Sure I had popular friends. Troy and Sienna were very popular. So was Max. But me? Nah. I never really cared about that. Sure, I was always on a mission to be popular. But once I eventually realized that it was never going to happen, I wrote about what I thought it was like in my stories. In this day and age, being popular was EVERYTHING. What a horrible societal mentality. I no longer went out of my way to find people. If they so happened to find me, then it was up to them to put up with my mood of the day. Today's mood was cynicism. They could take it or leave it, but it wasn't going anywhere. "Mike, didn't you get any of my calls yesterday?" Sienna asked, as she approached me. I'd been standing at my locker, just standing there with my back to it, looking out at all the animals going about their day. I didn't even turn to face Sienna when she was here. "I might've heard about some calls, yeah," I replied, with a sigh. "I'm not really a phone person." "Since when?" Sienna asked. "Since I realized that phones were just one of the reasons why most American's are as lazy as they are," I replied. Sienna looked a little confused by my statement, but she just turned around and started the combination to her locker. "So where's Troy?" she asked. "I don't know," I replied. "Maybe his dad came and picked him up in one of his airplanes." `Oh my dad is a pilot' Fucking liar. Everybody was a fucking liar! I was surrounded by them! "What?" "Hey guys!" Max spoke, joining the group. And surprise, surprise, he was with Sadie. With his...arm wrapped around her? Were they together now? When did that happen? "Hey Max, Sadie," Sienna spoke. "Wow, so are you two like-" "Together?" Sadie asked. "Uh huh." "What happened to-" "Andrew decided he'd rather spend more time with Evan than me," Sadie replied, bitterly. "I don't know, I'm just over it. That whole deal." "And just like somebody's second choice, you were available," I said, once again what I was thinking. "Did it go something like that Max?" Everyone stared at me with a strange look. I don't think they'd ever seen me like this before. And I guess it was strange. But I didn't care. People changed all the time. They were just gonna have to get used to me like this because I was having fun! "Um, are you okay Mike?" Sadie suddenly asked me. The fact that she was talking to me caused me to actually look at her. "I mean with everything I'm sure you're going through..." "What am I going through, Sadie?" I asked. Because seriously, I seemed to remember her not even knowing my name let alone having said more than three words to me and now she was suddenly worried about `what I was going through'. "Um...I thought-" "You think too? Man, I seriously need to get myself one of those-" "Alright, back off Mike," Max growled, getting closer to me but Sienna got between us. "Maybe you just haven't been getting enough sleep again," she spoke. "I mean, we all know what you're going through has to be tough." Max was staring at me and I was looking back at him. I looked over at Sienna before looking back out into the hallway. "Yeah," I replied. "You'd think that wouldn't you?" "Man, I wanna help you," Max started. "But you make it a little hard when you're shrugging people off." Shrugging people off? I wasn't aware I could even physically do that? I started looking my arms over wondering if I was even that strong when out of the corner of my eye I noticed Troy approaching the group. I let my arms fall to my sides and let out an annoyed sigh, deciding to turn to my locker like I had something to get out of it. Everyone around me may have been a bunch of filthy liars, but at least none of them had lied to me this morning. I'd rather think you were a liar rather than know first hand that you were. "Hey Troy," Sienna spoke, turning back to her locker. "Hey," Troy replied cautiously. I was almost sure that he was looking at me. And for some reason, knowing that made me a feel a little...constricted. Almost like I was drowning again. It was always the same feeling. Feeling like I was drowning. Only this time, it was like Troy was trying to save me and I wasn't letting myself be saved. Probably because I didn't fucking WANT to be saved. "Um, I was thinking off cutting my hair," Sienna started, obviously trying to keep up some kind of conversation. "It's getting a little long." "Sure is," I found myself commenting on it. "You know I was reading the other day about this girl who got her hair stuck on an amusement park ride she was on and.....well, you can probably figure out the rest." That WAS supposed to be something I was thinking. But there was no connection from brain to mouth for me anymore. If I felt like saying it, I was going to say it. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing holding me back anymore. Everyone knew all my most personal secrets. Pete was gone. Nothing worse could happen to me now. "Alright, what's your problem, Mike?" "Max, it's okay," Sienna started. "No, it's not okay," Max replied. "You're being a jackass and you know it!" He was all in my face. Why was he all in my face? "You wanna remove yourself from my depth of vision?" I seriously think he wanted to hit me just then. But something stopped him, because he all of a sudden looked a lot softer. "Alright...alright....maybe we just all need to calm down." We? He was the one who needed to calm down. Facts were facts. He could take them as he may. "Everybody's just a little on edge here," Max spoke. "So let's play the state the obvious game," I spoke. "Is that what were doing now?" Everyone just stared at me. We stayed like that for a little bit before Sienna suddenly shut her locker and turned around. "I think maybe we should all get to class," she started. Amazing how no one else seemed to be as affected with Pete's death. I guess some people grieved less. It was almost a travesty the way no one seemed to care. And as long as they were gonna act like that, I was gonna act like this. Somebody had to care. "You're right," I replied. "Learning awaits us." Otherwise I'd just be wasting my parents' tax dollars. And I wouldn't want that, now. Max, Sadie and Sienna eventually milled off to go to their respective classes which just left me standing alone with Troy. We shared every single class together, so I was used to this. It just, felt so awkward now. But, I wasn't going to let it stay awkward. Because I couldn't take just standing here. I didn't notice much before at school as I spent most of my time writing when I wasn't with Pete or Troy or my other friends. But what I did know was that Mr. Jacobs was one of the most well liked teachers in school, if not the most well liked teacher. His policy was that he didn't want anyone to fail his class, which no one ever did because he was always offering some kind of extra credit to help boost grades. There was that, and then there was the way he taught us too. He didn't just stand in front of a projector or a blackboard writing notes and answering questions. He got us involved as much as possible. He'd sometimes play fun games to help us remember things. Or he'd give out prizes to the student with the highest grade each report card. And at the very end of the month, for the whole week, he let five different students teach the class however they wanted. The only restrictions placed upon them was that they had to actually teach the class. We couldn't just tell everyone to bring a videogame of choice to play. My turn was going to be next month and I was actually looking forward to it. Or I had been, before...... Only, once I got in class and saw that everything looked....different, I started to wonder if I was going to have to even worry about it. The seats weren't arranged in their normal groups of four anymore. Instead, it was just a bunch of rows, like in all the other boring classes with the boring normal teachers. All of the fun posters and doodads Mr. Jacobs had decorating the room were no longer in sight, instead replaced with...nothing really. There was, however a box of stuff on the desk in the front and a name on the board. Mr. Sanderson. "Okay, what the hell is this?" Evan asked, upon taking his seat. This was the one class I shared with Evan along with his partner in crime Andrew. "Dude, Jacobs got canned," Andrew replied. "What?" Troy asked looking around. It was plain to see that must have been what happened. There was seemingly no other explanation. "I heard he actually had to fail some loser and they ran him over with their car," Clark, a kid in the class spoke. "You ran Mr. Jacobs over Clarky boy?" Evan spoke, taking a seat. "That's a no no." "Shut up," Clark shot back. People were definitely confused. I don't think anyone had ever been fired or left this school since I started attending in the ninth grade. So to see somebody as popular as Mr. Jacobs gone....it was definitely rumor worthy to say the least. Maybe the same bad man that had taken Pete away from me had taken Mr. Jacobs. You know...the bad man. If I figure out who that is, I'll be sure to let you know. "On the bright side, at least we get a poor sub to torture," Evan spoke. "Maybe she'll stay long enough for me to make her cry." I found myself chuckling at that which caused Evan to look back at me. He had a funny look on his face but he didn't say anything. Instead he just turned back around. More time passed, enough time for more rumors to start but eventually the bell rang and there was still no teacher in sight. "Oh god, don't tell me she got lost," Evan mumbled. "This ain't that big a school." A few moments latter, a man in a leather jacket and boots walked into the room. No one could see his face as he had on what looked to be a motorcycle helmet. The man walked into the room, looked around, walked outside again apparently to see if he had the right room and then came back in, taking his helmet off. I, unlike nearly every girl in the class almost gasped when I saw him. This Sanderson guy was young! Not only that, but he was drop dead gorgeous too. He looked no older than twenty five with jet black gelled hair and green eyes. He looked like he could have been Italian. Or at least, partly Italian. He was wearing a plain button up blue shirt which was tucked into his jeans, which were long enough to, but didn't, cover his loose dark black boots. He was, in every way that mattered, probably the hottest guy I'd ever seen in my entire life. Everyone was speechless, especially once he smiled and looked around. "Hi. So this is Wayward High School huh?" he spoke, looking around. "Nice. Kinda small, but I'll deal." He walked over to a small locker on the other side of the room and took out a key to open it as he took off his jacket. "Is this guy for real?" Evan whispered to Andrew, but was loud enough for me to hear. "Straight out of the pages of Biker Dude Monthly," I whispered back. Evan chuckled and turned around once Mr. Sanderson walked back up to the front of the classroom. "Oh...somebody brought my stuff in," he spoke, noting the box on the desk. "And wrote my name on the board, I see." I decided to raise my hand. I was over my initial shock. "Uh...yeah, you with the hand up." "Where's Mr. Jacobs?" I asked. I noticed everyone's faces seemed to look in agreement of the question I'd asked. A lot of the girls seemed to be snapping back into reality but the bottom line was, people wanted to know. Mr. Sanderson walked over to the desk, moved a box aside, and sat on the edge of it, stretching his legs out and crossing one over the other. "You'll have to ask somebody else," he replied. "I haven't even been here twenty four hours." Everyone started looking around at each other. "This place is kinda cold huh?" he spoke, looking out the window to see where it had clearly started to snow again. No one was really saying much. The room seemed quieter than it did whenever we had a test to take. "Is everybody awake?" "That half of the room is permanently braindead," I replied. "You lost everybody else at `hi'." Mr. Sanderson chuckled. And I think I noticed Evan chuckle as well. "Well that's not good now is it?" he asked, getting off of the desk and walking over to the chalkboard where he erased his name and replaced it with another one. A shorter one. A first name. "I don't know what you're used to around here," he started, turning around. "But you guys can call me Paul. None of this Mr. Sanderson stuff." Paul Sanderson. I never called a teacher by their first name. Not even Mr. Jacobs let us do that. I looked over at Troy, who, like always, had a completely unreadable look on his face. And he would have one too, right when I was trying to see what he was thinking about all this. Not that it really probably made that much of a difference to him. "You guys are so quiet," Paul said, with a smile. "I don't bite, I promise." And you know what? They were being awfully quiet. They didn't have to be so quiet. I'm sure Paul was nervous. We didn't have to make things worse.......yes we did! "So where ya from Paul?" I asked, getting more comfortable in my seat. I'd say this was the first time I actually didn't care about what people thought of me. It was probably also a first for everyone in class, as they probably had yet to hear me speak, let alone knew I was even in this class. They sure were looking at me now, but hey, I didn't care. At least they weren't dead. "Well I'm from Phoenix," Paul replied. "We don't get much snow up there. Anything below sixty is considered weird weather." "Uh huh and how old are you?" I asked. "Oh, well I'm twenty six," he replied. "I have a BA in developmental studies and another degree in teaching. I was an elementary school teacher in Phoenix." I didn't know they even had teachers as young as him. The stuff I was missing because I lived in this shithole little town.... "I'll be glad to tell you anything you wanna know about me," Paul replied. "But I'm more interested in getting to know all of you." "Wait, so...you're our permanent teacher?" I asked. "Looks that way, yeah," Paul replied. Ugh. Mr. Jacobs was fun. And the only reason I came to this class. But Paul was hot. That was at least keeping my attention. "You, what's your name?" He was talking to me. "Oh...uh I'm Mike," I replied. "Mike huh," Paul replied. "Got a buddy lives in L.A. named Mike." "I'm the bad one," I said. Paul smiled and looked next to me to where Troy was sitting. "What about you?" Troy just stared ahead at Paul before straightening up in his seat. "Troy," was all he said. And even that sounded a little....off. It was almost like he was on the defensive. From a new teacher? I could see from a new student trying to get to know me or something, but this...was beyond weird. Paul stared at Troy for a few seconds before raising his head slowly and looking away. "Right, well, there's plenty of time left," he said. "Don't be shy. I'll get to all of you." I looked over at Troy who seemed to be shooting bullets at Paul with his eyes. It certainly was a look I didn't want to mess with. Almost...frightening. I just looked away from him and straightened back up in my seat. Things in Mr. Sanderson's....er, Paul, rather....things in his class had gone smoothly enough. From the looks of things, he was going to turn out to be a fun guy. We spent the whole class period just introducing and talking about ourselves. Because the people in this town loved talking about their shallow selves. Paul had us move all of the desk into a circle while he stood in the middle to talk to all of us. He said he liked the circle better and was probably going to leave it that way. Because of the way we'd arranged our desks, the circle had placed me right next to both Evan and Troy. I had dreaded having to be put into such a position but for some reason, Evan didn't bother messing with me. I would have found it odd if I cared more. The truth was I was over him and his bullying too. He could do whatever he wanted to me. It didn't matter, I'd still be alive. And Pete would still be.... I had to stop thinking about him. I was at school for crying out loud. I couldn't cry here. Regardless of how I was feeling, school was still school and the day still went on. It was now lunch time and I was anything but hungry. I'd stopped caring about what I ate a long time ago. I only ate because I knew that it wouldn't be healthy for me not to. But it was almost kinda like I couldn't even taste the food I was eating anymore. That was the part that I didn't like. But like a lot of other things, it didn't matter and I just didn't have enough patience to care. I was in line, in the middle of both Troy and Sienna who were trying to decide what to get. I had just put some things on my plate, not really caring or paying attention to what I picked. But apparently, I had gotten something bad because Sienna commented on it. "Oh my god, a chilli cheese dog? Those things are full of all kinds of carbs and fats....clogs your pores," Sienna spoke, pushing her tray along the metal bars in line. "Good thing it's not on your plate then huh?" I replied. All this damn whining and complaining about something she wasn't even about to eat. Why couldn't she worry about her own food? "I'm on a diet myself," she replied. "Yet, it's obvious you don't need to be," I sighed, pushing my tray along. The girl was a cheerleader. It was probably against the rules for her to be fat and captain at the same time. "You know, did you ever stop to think about how I felt about all this?" Sienna said, getting testy. "I mean, he was my best friend." "It's been a month," I replied. "Of course I didn't consider how you felt. You should have said something. I'm not a mind reader." Like I was supposed to know what was on her damn mind. "I cared about him too," Sienna replied. "Probably more than-" "Just stop," I sighed, paying for my food and hurrying past both her and Troy. I usually sat with them at lunch, making mental notes to satire everyone in the lunch room once I got home. But today, I didn't feel like eating with either of them. They had attitude problems. I didn't like that. I looked around at everyone. I was completely aware that I was abandoning my only two friends and that without them, I'd have nowhere to sit with. But this was a free country. I could sit where I wanted. I looked around at the various groups. Which group of animals would I be sitting with today? "Mike, come on," Troy spoke joining me at my side. Sienna was standing a few feet away, looking over at us. "Don't be like this-" "Leave me alone Troy," I replied. "Mike, please-" I felt trapped again and I didn't want to have to stand there and hear his plea bargain. Fortunately...or unfortunately for me, Evan walked up and put his arm around me. "Hey Carson....Mike," he said. He looked between me and Troy, who was glaring at him. "Can I sit with you?" I asked. "Sure," he replied. Like I said, I no longer cared about much, including my safety or well being, and just stormed over to Evan's table. When I got there, the usual preps and jocks were sitting there. They all got quiet upon seeing me take a seat though. "You lost or something?" Andrew asked. I glanced at him briefly before deciding to just ignore him altogether. It was best to just ignore stupid people. Stupid can rub off on a person... Evan walked over a few seconds later and looked around at all his still quiet friends. "Oh come on, Mike's cool," Evan replied. "Now." I had to wonder what I'd done to make him change his mind. I mean, last time he pretended to be my friend, he'd still called me Carson. Now he was calling me Mike. He took a seat and looked around. "Kinda tight, Andrew take a hike will ya?" Andrew looked over at Evan shocked. "But Evan-" "I said get the fuck up!" Andrew still looked shocked, but he knew better than to damper with ticking the most popular guy in the school off. So he got up, looking kinda sad I might add, and walked over to another table of animals. "You'd think somebody asked him to go shoot his mom," Evan spoke, looking over his food. "Which he'd probably do if he thought it was cool enough," I said. Evan chuckled along with a few other people at the table. "I don't know why, but I like you Mike," Evan replied. "It's like you grew a new personality or something." Nah. Same personality, different outlook on life. "So it's Mike is it?" a girl at the table, that I recognized as being Janet Elrod, the school's one and only most well used piece of flesh. "Yeah, I think I've seen you around." "You play any sports Mike?" another guy, who I recognized as being Clark from earlier, asked me. "Recreational activities and me don't get along," I replied. "You guys have Evan for that." A few people, including Evan chuckled. "Yeah, you're definitely cool now," Evan replied. Amazing. And all I had to do was hurt the people that really cared about me in the process. Amazing how popularity worked. I looked ahead and over to where Troy and Sienna were sitting with a few other people. They were both staring at me. They looked worried. Concerned. And for a moment, I almost cared. But then, I looked down at my food and took a bite, looking around at all the people I was surrounded life. I realized that I had two choices. I could stay friends with people who actually made life worth living. Or I could join the kids who made everyone else's lives a living hell. And considering that's what I felt like lately, it wasn't a bad idea at all. YahooGroup (w/ advanced chapters of the story): http://groups.yahoo.com/group/JoJoPresents-GayFiction/ Personal email: crossingboi2004@yahoo.com Copyright 2005