Date: Tue, 12 Sep 2000 17:49:13 -0400 From: Grendel_Rex@dhmail.net Subject: Last Night 3 Gm yf The Last Night- Part 3 Or "What do you think you're doing?" By: Jameson M. Sinister I had a boyfriend. If you had told me a month ago I would have one I would have probably punched you (I have a bit of a mean streak in me). Not only did I have a boyfriend, but he loved me. And I loved him. So why was I feeling so miserable? Maybe it was the fact that he was so far away (I just did a quick check on the map and it turns out we were 68 miles apart as the crow flies. Silly me, huh?). Or maybe it was the fact that I wasn't going to see him for three months. I really think it was the fact that I was starting the seventh grade. Ugh. My school was pretty good, for a prep school. You may have actually seen the commercial for it on the weather channel (swear to god, I actually saw it when I was living in Tallahassee). The O'Neal School located in beautiful Whispering Pines right across from Sandhills Community College. From Kindergarten to High School; one big, happy, dysfunctional family. The one thing I loved was that there were plenty of hills surrounding the place. After school I loved to roam the hills, seeking a quiet place to meditate. While all the other students were getting yelled at by the coaches I sought to find my own balance. I had plenty of time too. My mother taught Accounting in the college and her office hours lasted until four or five. I had anywhere between two and three hours to explore the school after most of the students had left. My classes were pretty small. Being a prep school we had a small number of students. There were a total of thirty kids in my entire grade. I was friends with only one of them, Andy Madden. It was one of those little ironies that we were friends. I was the big kid that looked like hell (style had never been a factor in my life). Andy was pretty much the opposite of me. Small, kind of bookish, with brown hair and brown eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. He was one of those precious few who was able to see through the exterior I had put up to see what I was really like. (In school I was just five steps from being the stupid kid in class. I had (have) a tendency to stick my foot in my mouth and look like the biggest idiot. I had two basic emotions: passive or angry. I used to consider myself a born brawler.) Andy and I would sit together and talk during lunch. Our talks would very rarely turn to sex unlike everyone else. Usually we would discuss books or homework, anything that struck our immediate fancy. As a matter of fact that's what we're doing right now. "So what are you doing this weekend?" "I'll probably head over to Fayetville with the folks and catch a movie. How about you?" "I'm going to play a few rounds of golf with my dad." I nodded my head, trying to pay attention. I wasn't tuning him out, per se; my mind just went back to Chris. We had managed to talk over the phone twice over the last three weeks. Each time I wanted to tell Chris how much I missed him Pat would pick up the line. "Jason? You there, man?" My senses returned as Andy waved his hand in front of me. I smiled and apologized. "No need to be sorry, Jason. I just wish I knew who she was." "Huh?" "I know that look. You've got it bad, man." Andy looked around the lunchroom and turned back to me. "So who is she?" "You're crazy, Andy. Just looked around us. There really isn't anyone of them I'm interested in." There was enough truth in that statement. Andy conceded. for now. I knew I was going to hear more about it during gym. Luckily we still had social studies and chemistry until then (I never thought I would have said `luckily' and `chemistry' in the same sentence. Ack! I did it again!) As gym neared I had pretty much worked out a cover story. There was a girl in my neighborhood that I thought was cute and that I had a slight crush on her. Not the best story but one I could build up over time. As we walked toward the gym Andy slowed and walked next to me. We talked about the class we had just taken and the homework assignment. I was convinced our teacher was a Nazi. The first day of class she assigned us homework. And now we were to read an entire chapter on covalence and do all the work assigned, including an essay. "Just how the heck are you supposed to write an essay on molecules?" I said as we walked into the locker room. Already thoughts of the assignment fled as I looked at the bodies surrounding us. Most everyone was in boxers and only a couple were in briefs. I had never really allowed myself to look at them before. I had just considered it wrong. But now, as I began to change, I tried to compare them to Chris. Not one of them came close to his perfection. I turned to Andy and saw him quickly look away. I looked away too, seeing as he was reaching for his pants. I treasured my friendship with him and had no desire to ruin it. Today we would be running laps around the school. Cross-country, they called it. For most it was sheer torture. For the beginning and ending of each lap we had to run a hill with a thirty-degree slope. For even more fun the grass never managed to survive there so it was basically dirt and red clay. I had done this on my own enough to know where the footholds were. As I took off Andy followed me. We went at a pretty sedate pace compared to the others. "So, you want to tell me about her?" "What's to tell?" I ran ahead and took the hill at breakneck speed. I didn't so much as jog as jump from step to step. I had reached the bottom of the twenty-foot hill in less than ten seconds. I turned and smiled as I saw Andy try to match my movements. He did pretty well until he got near the bottom. A piece of clay broke off and he began to fall. I reached over and grabbed him before he fell to the ground. He leaned on his knees and I put my arm around him. "Are you all right?" "Yeah." He took a few shallow breaths and then stood up. He looked at me and smiled. "So what's her name?" I laughed at his persistence and started jogging again. He caught up and tried to look me in the eye. I waited until he was baited then began. "I really don't know." He groaned and shoved me, or at least tried to. I gave a slight giggle (chuckle, big guys as a rule should not giggle) and looked ahead. "No, she just moved into the neighborhood. I've just seen her a couple of times." We rounded the riverbed and began to trek through the small forest surrounding the school. "So what does she look like?" I thought about giving her a complete fictional identity but gave him Chris' description. "She's about five eight, pretty thin. She's got blonde hair that she wears short. She's got a great set of blue eyes and a great smile." "And you know all this but you don't know her name." He looked at me with something. I wasn't sure what it was. Disbelief, maybe, but there was something else. "I've just seen her a couple of times. You know how shy I am. Besides, it not like she really knows me. She's going to the other school." "I guess so." We passed through the thicket and reached the hill. We climbed it and headed off to the right, toward the soccer field. We kept our silence and ran the length of the field and then back, circling the lacrosse field. We reached the gym and then began the circuit anew. This time I went slowly down the hill, ready to catch Andy should he fall again. We reached the bottom without incident. "God, this is so stupid! You would think they had a better way to waste our youth!" Andy laughed and we began talking again. School ended with the usual anti-climax. I walked Andy out to his van (the school had several vans instead of a bus) and waved him off. I walked into the library and gave my greetings to Mrs. Adams. I wandered through, looking for a good title. I had read all of Christopher Pike's books as well as the Vampire Chronicles. If you couldn't guess I'm a bit of a horror buff. The few Stephen King novels they had were beyond my scope (Most of the books they had were the hardbound version. `The Stand' always attracted my attention but it was eight hundred pages long. Too long for me.) I walked into the private reading room and did my homework. I left the chemistry alone and worked on everything else. I finished it all pretty quickly and got bored. I looked at the clock and hung my head. There were still two hours before my mom was ready. I gave my bag to Mrs. Adams and headed outside. The weather had gotten slightly colder. I picked up where we had stopped in gym and went at a quick pace. As I ran I looked at the subtle nuances of my surroundings. The sky was a pristine blue with a few clouds stretched across. I breathed in deeply, savoring the coming autumn. And behind that, the coming holidays like Thanksgiving. With that thought my mind turned to Chris. Within the last week I had somehow overcome my ennui. I would think about Chris and I no longer felt like crying and pushing the world away. The weather must be affecting me. (I am hardly ever depressed during fall.) As I crossed over onto the soccer field I saw something out of the corner of my eye. A group of guys were down by swings (another thing was that the school had a playground, including monkey bars and swings.) Normally I would have ignored it but as I got closer I saw that Curtis was in the middle. That was enough for me to get involved. Curtis was never a big guy, nor would he ever be. He was about four feet even and weighed all of seventy pounds soaking wet. He was a year younger than I was but we were pretty good acquaintances on what could have been called friends. (I have always been very selective of who I call friend.) He was usually the butt of a lot of jokes and mild pranks. I helped him out a few times and had since then taken a personal interest in his welfare. (I'm a sucker for the underdog.) As I got closer the crowd surrounding him saw me and backed off. As they separated I saw Brad Johnson was among them. I felt a small cold lump form in my stomach. Brad was tiny and mean. There was no other way to say it. He stood about three inches shorter than Curtis and had a Napoleon complex so large it made Bonaparte envious. Naturally he selected me as the cause of all his problems, since I was the largest kid in the middle school. (Brad wasn't about to take on an eighth-grader.) "What are you doing here, fat-ass?" As you can tell, he held me in high esteem. I ignored him and looked around at the faces surrounding Curtis. Most of them were well meaning kids with a few brain-cells knocking against each other. I walked into the midst of them and looked at Curtis. He wasn't scared, just slightly afraid. "I'm here to see what's up, Brad. How are you, Curtis?" "I'm fine." It barely came out a whisper. "Do you mind coming with me and hanging out in the library? There's this great book I found." "Sure!" I nodded my head and walked up to two of the guys. They parted and I motioned for Curtis to follow. "Hey, where do you think you're going?" "To the library, Brad. The air pressure down there not getting my voice to you?" Two of the guys smiled and one laughed. Brad ran in front of me, his face a mask of rage. "What did you say?" "Oh my god, I was right?" Curtis started laughing and soon the rest were laughing too. Brad's bottom lip twisted into sneer. He wanted so badly to break every bone in my body and I could sympathize. The only problem was that I wasn't the bully. He wanted me to throw the first punch and I refused to give in to him. Instead Curtis and I walked toward the main building. We rounded the kindergarten playground when I heard the sound of running feet. "Run." We both took off at a sprint for the main building. We took the stairs at a gallop, the elongated steps slowing us down. Curtis reached the door first and he pulled at the door. Nothing happened. "Shit! It's locked!" He turned and he gave a quick gasp. In the glass doors I could see them catching up to us. "Front entrance!" I hit the top step and turned left. I grabbed Curtis' arm and hauled him along with me. He followed and we raced toward the gym. I got to the locker room door and threw it open. Curtis ran in and I jumped in. I slammed it closed and locked it. From outside the gang began pounding on the door. Curtis and I stood there trying to regain our breath. "I thought you said the front entrance?" He said between breaths. "Trick." I was busy catching my breath too. I grabbed the inner door and pulled it open. "Come on, before they get in through the gym." We reached the library just as they got in the hall. "What about when I have to leave?" Curtis didn't leave until about six, meaning he'd be here another half-hour longer than I would. "Just stay here. You can see when your folks pull in. Just take off from the other side." I pointed to the other set of doors, leading directly outside. "But what about next week?" "Curtis, you can't be afraid of them forever. Besides, most of them are okay. It's just Brad you have to watch out. Why the hell does he keep picking on you?" I saw Curtis tense for a moment. "Because he's an asshole." The seriousness on Curtis' face is enough to get me chuckling. Pretty soon we're laughing and sitting there, watching the world slip into dusk. At fifteen after five I saw my mom's car pull in the drive. "Be cool, Curtis. I'll see you Monday morning." He waved good-bye and I did likewise. As I walked outside the library Brad was waiting for me. "Later, fat-ass." "Brad, leave him alone. I don't know what your beef with him is but it stops now." "What are you going to do?" At that moment I did one of my less than noble acts. I picked him up by his shirt collar and slammed him against the wall. I spun us around the corner in case a teacher came by. I put my mouth next to his ear and spoke low and sinister. "Lay off Curtis or I swear by God I'll be the bully you want me to be. I'll lay into you so hard you'll be afraid to sleep. I've gotten tired of your shit. This is my last warning. If you so much as talk about him in a way I don't like I'll mess you up. I don't think I have to give you an example." The acrid smell of urine filled the air between us. I looked him over in disgust. "I think we have an understanding." I set him down and walked out to meet my mom. I wasn't able to make it home. "Mom, I'm feeling sick. Can you pull over?" "Sure, hon." We stopped at the gas station a mile from the school and I ran through to the bathroom. I emptied my guts while still running. I had to hold my hands over my mouth to stop from covering the floor with vomit (I did this back when I was six). I basically slid on the linoleum and ended up in front of the bowl. After three more volleys I felt I could make it home. I pulled myself into the car. "Oh my god, are you all right?" "I'm fine, let's just hope we don't hit any lights." When we got home I rushed off to the bathroom and threw up again. As soon as the quivering in my stomach stopped I leaned against the bathtub and closed my eyes. I tried to convince myself it was for a good cause. At that moment I needed Chris so badly it was a desire. I wiped my mouth and flushed the toilet. I looked at myself in the mirror, to see how much of a mess I was. I couldn't bring myself to look in my eyes. "Mom, can I call Chris?" "Are you feeling better?" "Yes mom. Can I please call Chris?" "Okay honey, but don't be too long. If you are feeling better we'll go out to Vito's." Usually news like that would have cheered me up. But to talk to Chris made me happier. I picked up the phone and dialed Chris' number. "C'mon, Chris, pick up." I counted the rings and on the third someone picked up. "Hello?" I recognized the voice as Pat. "Hi, is Chris there?" "Yeah, Jason. Let me get him." I heard the phone being set down. "Chris, your boyfriend is on the line!" To be continued.