Date: Mon, 19 May 2014 18:13:46 -0700 (PDT) From: Sean R Subject: Riding the Waves - 5 Author's Note: I hope you're enjoying the story, I appreciate any feedback. Please write me to seanr_13@yahoo.ca Don't forget to donate to Nifty to keep our wonderful community going. ----- Riding the Waves By: Sean Roberts -- Chapter 5 -- "What the fuck is wrong with you Harris?" Dylan asked once they were alone. "They were going to expel me. You could have been rid of me forever." "You did this on purpose to get expelled?" "Of course! If I had only done it because you're an asshole, it wouldn't have been in front of the whole school." "Why are you trying to get expelled?" Dylan sighed. "I couldn't think of anything else to tell my parents to have them let me switch schools. Why the hell did you lie?" "Because, I thought you were just having a bad day. And plus, as much as I don't want to admit it, you're good for the team. Coach Baker was really suspicious, first about your leg, then about this. I made him go get my test to show him that there's no way you can get expelled. I need you and the team needs you. But mainly, Lewis, I guess I can't blame you for fighting back." There was a moment. Then: "Man, you really are a cum guzzling little bitch," Tyler said. "Trying to get expelled!" "Fuck you," Dylan said. He took a deep breath. The door at the other end of the corridor opened and the four parents came through. "Listen Tyler," Jonathan said before anybody else could get a word in. "If this little shit did this to you on purpose, you tell me right now and we'll—" "Don't you talk to my son like that!" Paul said. "Dad, it's fine," Tyler interrupted. "Really, it was an accident." "Dad, could you please let it go?" Dylan said to his father at the same time. "We've really got to get to class," Tyler said. Dylan agreed, and they walked off quickly. -- Dylan was not in a studying the mood, and he barely got through a page of his textbook before falling asleep. He woke up some hours later to the click of a closing door. It was dark but he could make out a figure standing in his doorway. "Lewis?" he heard a familiar voice say. It was Tyler. Dylan sat up in his bed and clicked on his bedside light. "Harris, what the hell are you doing here? It's—" Dylan looked down at his watch, ready to say two in the morning. "It's, like, eight o'clock at night." "Yeah," Tyler said, shutting the door behind him. "How the fuck did you get in here?" "Your mom let me in. I told her you knew I was coming, that I had to return a textbook." "So my dad didn't see you?" "No. Anyway, I figured you could use a break." Tyler opened his knapsack and took out a couple of cold beers. "I guess I can't kick you out now." "Lewis, I want to know why you were really trying to get expelled. I mean, I know we haven't been the nicest to you. But still." Dylan took a long sip of beer, and then decided to level with him. "I heard you in the library, and I know that you and Lancaster are trying to kill me." Tyler was about to say something, but Dylan waved his hand dismissively as he took another sip of his beer. "That doesn't bother me so much. But, as it turns out, you're not doing such a terrible job of it. I figure it would be better for my health if I left." "Really? Kill? That's a bit dramatic. Anyway, I'm not anymore, okay?" "Why?" "Because you're helping me study, despite how—how I've been." "That's pretty stupid of me, isn't it?" "Yes. But it's helped." Dylan took another sip of the beer to fill the uncomfortable silence. "Harris, open the top drawer of my desk." Tyler found the joint, opened the window and lit it. He passed it to Dylan. "You'd better find another study buddy," Dylan said. "I'm still leaving. I'm going to tell my parents tonight. Or maybe I'll actually get myself expelled. I could break Lancaster's nose!" Tyler laughed. "I know things have gotten out of hand a little bit--" "A little bit? You've ruined my life Harris. I can't swim. That was the whole point of me coming here. First you almost drowned me, and then you broke my fucking leg." "Now listen, Lewis. You're blowing this a little bit out of proportion, don't you think? I mean your foot is going to be fine. This way you can rest a little bit. You'll be back swimming in no time. And I already said that it's stopping. I'm not going to do anything else to you. Scout's honour." "You said yourself we aren't friends." "Sure, but that was then, this is now. Now—" "We aren't friends, Harris. Call off your dogs. From here on out, you treat me the same way you treat everybody else on the team. You don't look at me or talk to me, ever, unless we're meeting to study. If you don't agree to this, I'll just tell the coach what happened." "But then you'll get expelled!" "So will you, dumbass. Now get out of my house." -- Dylan went to watch the meets, sitting in the bleachers with the other students, longing to be in the water. The team was not performing badly, but they were only winning about half the time. For those next few weeks, while he was healing, he barely had to talk to any of them. This was not an entirely unwelcome situation, but Dylan felt as if something was missing; something besides the swimming. Dylan could not drive because of his cast, so Ethan had been driving Dylan to and from school. One evening, Lisa caught up to them as Dylan was climbing into Ethan's truck. "Ethan, I'll drive him today," Lisa said. Ethan looked at Dylan and smiled. She took him to a small, quiet restaurant. It was dimly let, and whether or not their waiter believed the faked IDs, he brought them wine. "So Dylan, how are you liking California?" "It's nice that it doesn't get too cold. And I'd never been surfing before I moved here." "What else do you do for fun?" "Love to read," he said. "What about you?" "I surf a lot, like everyone around here. Otherwise just the usual stuff. By the way, who do you have for English this year?" She continued to ask questions; and he fired them right back. It was the first conversation he had since he got to California where someone was actually trying to get to know him. The waiter continued to bring wine; Lisa drank very little because she had to drive, but she kept motioning for Dylan to have more. After the meal, they picked up coffee from a drive through and she pulled up into his driveway. They sat in the car with their warm drinks, the wine buzzing around in Dylan's head. "So what's the deal with you and Tyler? I really just can't wrap my head around it." "What do you mean?" "What do I mean? Do I really have to spell it out for you?" "Nah. I just don't know how to answer. It's complicated I guess." She turned to look at him, and smiled. Images of Tyler flashed through Dylan's mind, and he laughed. "What?" she asked him. "It's just that since I got here, I've spent more time with Tyler than anybody else, and he doesn't even like me. It doesn't make any sense." "I've spent enough time with him, being Alice's best friend, and he's alright. I guess you two have your differences. Sometimes it takes time to grow on someone." "Can't argue with that. But it's still messed. Tonight's been really nice, with you." "For me too," she said. She leaned forward and kissed him with soft, warm lips. Her tongue caressed his, and he put his hand on her cheek. With his eyes closed, he felt like he was back in the locker room, holding Tyler against the locker, staring into the other boy's eyes. Dylan pulled away from her. "Sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't—" "No, it's okay. It was nice. I-I just—I can't get involved with someone right now. It's complicated." "Right," she said. "It's alright Dylan. I'd like to be friends, really." "Shit, I think I drank too much." Dylan stumbled up to his bedroom and fell into bed. He liked Lisa and he enjoyed the kiss, but Tyler was swimming around in the wine in Dylan's head. He swore to himself, but pushed it all out of his mind so he could fall asleep.