IF YOU USUALLY SKIP THE AUTHOR'S NOTE: at least take the time to read this paragraph if you want to avoid mild to fair confusion. The title of the story, Then & Now, comes from the fact that this story will jump around from past to present. At the top of each chapter, I'll have either "Then" or "Now" and a brief note on the age and grade of the narrating characters, other relevant characters, and sometimes the month so that the time frame is clear. If there's no ages or grades, assume the information from the last Now or Then. The point of the two separate time frames is to keep adding bits of information from one situation to the other, in which it'll all blend together in the end. The POV of this story is in first person and will also change from chapter to chapter, mainly between Kyle and Kenny, but it will also include a few chapters from the POV of other characters. This first chapter is just sort of a prologue, so it's quite short.

The idea for this story comes directly from a oneshot I posted a while back called "I'll Be Your Sins," which I took down to put this story up. I read it the other day and got a wave of inspiration to make it into a multi-chaptered story, so I sat down and planned how I would go about it. If you read the oneshot, you'll notice that most of the first and third chapters have direct bits from it. I've planned out this story chapter-by-chapter and plan to finish it, so rest assured that it will not be abandoned. Updates will happen whenever I finish the chapter ahead of the current one (e.g. chapter two will go up when chapter three is finished). I can't promise any specific amount of time between updates, and I'm currently studying to take the SAT's in June so I'm busy much of the time.

I am not an experienced writer, so any comments to help me improve as one are appreciated. All that said, happy reading!

Disclaimed.

Now

October

Kenny: seventeen years old, senior year

-

God damn, it's fucking cold. Yesterday, the snow that accumulated over the week had finished melting and it looked like a promise for a nice day today. "Sunny day" my ass. It's pouring outside and the rain is plummeting down painfully like a collection of sharp, cold bullets. I think it might start hailing soon. Top it off with an obnoxious raging wind blowing straight at me, making it hard to walk forward. All I have is my thin jacket and I don't even know where the hell I'm going.

I'm just wandering aimlessly yet it looks familiar, so I must somehow know where the fuck I'm heading. I've lost track of how long I've been outside, but it must have been some time because my alcohol buzz is almost gone by now, with the weather and all. I'm still in a pleasant daze. Well, at least it would be pleasant if I wasn't practically fighting my way through a storm right now.

Oh, so I did now where I was going. Damn subconscious, or whatever is the reason I ended up in front of his house. Fuck, I haven't even spoken to him since we were... what, fifteen, sixteen? Good ol' Cinco de Mayo of our Sophomore year, I would have been sixteen. Yeah, with his mom sending him to another school a month before the year ended. I'm pretty sure it was partly his decision as well, though. It makes me sad to think about it. Nearly two years and I haven't figured out who to place the blame on: me, him, parents, school, or just life in general. I've replayed everything about us in my head over and over again; from when we met in preschool, finding out about the attacks, our first kiss, the shrinks, the dirty Denver bathroom stalls, the flashing red and blue lights, the out-of-service phone numbers. My head is splitting, it's too much to think about.

I feel a pang of guilt in my chest and it's made worse with the depressive atmosphere of the whole situation, but I also feel something old and still just as strange as it's always been. Desire. Lust as well, but true longing and desire for the love that only he has ever shown towards me. That's something that I'll never be able to forget.

I'm probably going to get hypothermia out here at this rate, although I don't really care about myself like I used to. I'm trying to fight this urge, but I find myself closer and closer to his doorstep as my feet move without my permission, and I know I would never go near this door without alcohol in my system. The rain is still pummeling my back, and I find more protection from it under the edge of his roof. I'm just standing here now, wanting strongly to leave, yet finding myself unable to move at the same time. Oh God, there's no way this could end well.

Maybe the rain is my motivation this time around, but as I ring his doorbell and wrap my arms around my thin frame, I just blame it on the alcohol. I've never been good on placing blame, after all.