A/N: I just love the amount of review I'm getting. Thanks guys. (_)
Ok, sorry for sounding like a dickhead, but reviews fuel me. So come one. Please? You gotta have some love to show in your heart.
Anyways, I've been really active lately in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. I have gone on an ATV tour thingy, which was sick (the good type of sick), and I just went to a ziplining, rappelling, and more thing that was sicker (once again, good sick). Tomorrow, I go (probably the biggest thing of the vacation) skydiving; I know, right? Also, I'm doing some parasailing, waveriding, and the lovable banana boat (everyone loves it, you can't fight them). So yeah, I might get a little slow. If you wanna see how my vacation has been, visit my profile and see my sites.
But the one review I got by Jay really lit me up. That was nice. Thanks a lot Jay, I sent you a PM. I like keeping it in a teenager stance and keeping it real because:
1) He is a teenager.
2) Authors on FF are forgetting that they don't say every sentence perfectly, and they say "like", and "um".
3) It's so funny how teenagers think
4) I am in the prime of my teenage hood, so I can write very well like this.
Okay, onward with the tale of Eric and the life of Roxas. One thing I want you readers to notice, however. I am writing in past tense, but that will change up onto the end, where it gets into another tense. You'll see later, I just want you to identify when it changes.
Oh, and no one got the right song of the last chapter title :( . Okay, try again. Think of the Decaydance/Fueled by Ramen, Record Studios that have FOB-ish music. Yes it's that type of music.
EDIT: I found out that a hurricane is coming tomorrow, June 24, at the tip of Baja Southern California (A.K.A. – Where I'm at, Cabo San Lucas) at 11 P.M. PST Time I think. I guess there goes skydiving for tomorrow :/ Oh, and visit my profile to see my new Twitter page, and please follow me if you can!
Summary: Suicidal. Emo. Dumbass. Maybe even a "queer" every once in a while. I needed someplace new, or at least to get out of this god-forsaken place. This is the story of my new life. --- Roxas Le Toux is finally moving to a high school on the East Coast in New York after having a horrible experience on the West in LA. Will it be the same? AkuRoku
Rating: M for Language, Smex (later-on), and Violence.
Disclaimer: Don't kill me, I disclaim'd it!
I Found Away
Chapter 3: Can't Handle It, Can't Handle It!
Three days, right? Yeah, I think so.
Three days after I "met" the blond in the locker room, I bumped into him again, but it was different…and it was the moment that I had finally gotten someone.
I was playing soccer in P.E…well, hardly playing. Of course, I was chosen last, a bench-warmer; someone who, of course, didn't have any rights as to being on the field. So I sat, and watched. Ninth through Eleventh grade P.E really wasn't great for those not accepted, not belonging.
So on this fourth day of school, the third day after running into him, after flopping my crotch towards his thigh, we met again. I mean, if you count me watching him on the field playing watching. But what made it somewhat mutual were his constant gazes at me. It wasn't of love anything, thank God, but more of in awe, or some shit like that; nonetheless, it felt fuckin' weird, man.
And then I heard a scream, and looked toward the source of it; some tenth grader gripped his ankle in pain as all sorts of people went to circle around him like a magnifying glass upon a glass on a hot summer day; those people didn't include me. I had to sit down on the bench, I didn't deserve to be out there, remember?
After the others sat down and the injured person was sitting next to me in agony, my P.E coach called to me in his football-filled voice; American football, mind you. He told me to get on, center-attacking midfield position, so I did. People told me to pass it to them, so I did. See how I am too damn obedient for my own good?
Anyways, I was up against, Mr. Deepey. I had the ball passed to me, and I just felt this sudden rush, ya know? I decided to put some moves on for the man, give him something to think about. So I did the snake; it's where you put the outside the tip of your foot and tap it, only to use the inside tip of your foot to tap it in the other direction in less than one-fourth of a second. It's really a good deceiver.
Anyways, I did it as I ignored the passionate screams of the freshmen, sophomores, and juniors. I defied their orders, and I was bound to get something sarcastically spit at me in the locker room as I would probably fail at the move, but at the moment, I just didn't give a shit. So I did the move…and it worked. He got faked, and I did something else to top it off with a cherry; just as I was going to take off and Mr. Deepey would soon follow, I stopped really quickly, with my arms and shoulder facing him first. I dragged the ball with the sole of my foot back, and his leg followed, and then I tapped the ball with the outside of my right foot in between his legs; it was oh-so-fucking-sweet salvation at that moment.
With voices and screams of disses, "Damn!", and "Holy Shit!", I passed by him. I was on a breakaway until I felt myself collapse and trip under some kind of log…or, as I soon found out, a leg with a good amount of sweating calf muscle. I fell, went head first, and dust went all over my face; great.
However, I heard a whistle, and then students screaming. Some boo's, complaining, and such. But I didn't care; I was laying on top of the deep-voiced man's sweaty chest, staring into my eyes. It felt like a century, but in my far-fetched reality, it was probably a second, maybe less than. I got off, as he was still staring at me on his back, and then the athletes circled him, teasing him. At that moment, the blond in the middle smiled some cocky smile, as I watched, outside of the circle.
"Man, you got freakin' did", said some random student, probably one he knew.
"Yeah, and then he fucking did you, again." They all then laughed, even the blond in the middle. Their happiness was mutual, so I felt alone again. But the group broke up, and it was time for me to take my penalty kick, a brunette even came up to me and patted me on the back; "Nice moves, kid."
I naturally scored, making the hour long game 7-6. It ended up as us winning 13-10, and I had scored 5 goals. But I didn't care for the temporary approval of the day; after all, it would all soon be gone, so I didn't care to take it all in. Instead, I paid close attention to the blond, and still did as we entered the locker rooms. I watched him change out of his sweaty clothes, revealing some abs, muscles, and a really creepy crotch. Creepy in the fact that I realized that One: It was huge. Two: Not much hair around it. Three: That I was fucking looking at it.
I turned immediately as his gaze had felt mine in the middle of his swapping of clothes. Well, that was embarrassing. The fuck was that all about? I had thought that I must get it together.
I changed as quick as possible, but it had been me and the blond as the last people in the locker room in the end. He broke up the silence with a compliment.
"You know, those were really nice moves. Like, seriously." I only nodded in agreement. "The name's Eric, kiddo. Nice to finally talk to you alone."
You know, adding that word "alone" normally makes a guy sound either gay or a pedophile; I don't know, one or the other. But what makes it embarrassing is when that pedophile brings back up an incident the other day that you really would not hear again; say, oh, I don't know, maybe slapping his thigh with a good whap-PAH of cock?
"You'd done something that made me turn red the other day, that hasn't happened in a long time." He laughed at the incident; laughed. That was what made it cruel. I flushed deeply out of embarrassment, and then looked down as he said, "Keep it in your pants man." That sure didn't help.
"Look", I said. "Are you going to keep embarrassing me? If so, let me know so I can walk out the door."
"Oh, no no no no! I'm sorry!"
"………". Why talk? He was the one to do the talking, not I; I, the oh-so outcasted new high schooler, didn't deserve anything.
He then hit me with a straight question. "You were the one singing the other day weren't you."
"…Yeah."
Awkward silence ensued. "You k-know, your voice is really, like, um…beautiful?" Even more awkward silence. "Yeah, I don't form good sentences with the words 'pretty', 'cute', or 'beautiful'." More laughter; I decided to chirp a bit, as I had agreed with the statement.
"Seems like we have something in common", were the words that finally managed to escape from my mouth; I couldn't keep silent forever.
He laughed out loud, and smiled. "Your sarcasm is funny…but I mean it, when I heard it, it reminded me of…of…I don't fuckin' know, but it was nice, ya know?"
I turned red on the face, and he laughed. "Dude, chill. I'm just giving you a complement. Have you never gotten one recently?"
"…No." That stopped his laughing.
"R-really?"
"Yes."
"…Sorry."
"No, I love being reminded of my status, no problem." I was a real dickhead back then, you know. Hypocritical was my fortè back then.
"………Well,
anyways, I wondered if you wanted to try out for the soccer team or
no? You have good enough skills to make it, and I'm the captain."
"……Really?" No wonder everyone was surprised about me "doing" Eric; he was the varsity soccer team captain!
"Yeah! Would you want to?"
"…No thanks." I could see a surprised and somewhat heartbroken expression in those eyes.
"But…why?"
"I can't…deal with sports, or deal with being with people that I know will just fuck with me, non-literally by the way. You wouldn't understand." I turned my head to get up and get my backpack on. As soon as I thought I had dismissed Eric, he asked me, "What's your name?"
"……Roxas Le Toux."
"That's actually a cool name. Mine's way too, you know, unspecial, common. I hate the fucking conformity of my name." I didn't care what he thought at the time, I just wanted to get to my next damn class so I could get home sooner.
"Wanna hang out some time?", he said, with a smile. I looked behind me, just to make sure that he wasn't asking someone else. Really? Why would he want…me?
"…S-sure. J-just call me from the n-number on the directory."
"Sure thing!", said he, as I turned away to walk rather fast. That was really…nice…of him. Was this opening a door of opportunities…or some shit like that? Or was it one of those fucking jokes, and would it end up with him saying, "You actually believed me? You actually thought I could be friends with you? Ha!" But I could tell it wasn't; he had too much of a damn good genuine smile to lie it up. I started wondering what he said the other day, about him 'Not being like the rest of those guys'. I wondered if it was true, and then I smiled; maybe I had gotten my first friend in high school.
It would be hard to believe that he would commit suicide soon that year.
**************************
Sit tight, I'm gonna need you to keep time
Come on just snap, snap, snap your fingers for me
Good, good now we're making some progress
Come on just tap, tap, tap your toes to the beat
Fuckin' Christ…
And I believe this may call for a proper introduction, and well
Don't you see, I'm the narrator, and this is just the prologue?
Swear we'll shake it up, if you swear to listen
Oh, we're still so young but desperate for attention
I aim to be, your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives.
I…couldn't find my damn phone at the time, but it went off in the middle of class…and I know that it wasn't my ringtone. Who the hell was it?
"Mr. Le Toux…", said Mr. Zexion. Couldn't he get the damn name right? He must at least recognize that this is French, because he looked smart and knowledgeable enough. "…as much as I love Panic at the Disco as much as the next boy does, you must realize that this is class, right?" Sarcasm was filled in his voice as much as chocolate to poop; it seemed to make sense, but it didn't really fit exactly.
"Mr. Zexion…that's the sound that plays w-when one of my friends calls or texts me." Surely he could believe me, right?
"Yes, I do know what that is. I also know that it is against school rules to have a school phone on during school hours. See me after class."
"Yes, sir." Fucking douchebag.
The teachers are all fucked up these days; honestly, then and now, and in the future as far as I can see, teachers have been getting more disconnected from society further and further every year, especially that of the teenage society. He can go screw himself.
Needless to say, I got a couple of smirks and laughter; I knew I would confront someone outside the door after class, and that would be my first and only test as to whether I am outcasted or have a slight chance at having more "friends".
"Now, students, it's two minutes to the bell, and so I want you to write down your homework, which is located at the top of the board. I will see all of you on Wednesday, hopefully with homework in hand, and for everyone else other than Roxas, until Wednesday, have a good day." Way to point me out, fucking loser of an emo teacher. How about you stop flopping your hair over your eye and stop cutting your wrist.
Okay, now I recognize that was mean, but back then, the thought was good enough to let my mind be at peace.
I wrote down the homework, which was apparently to go back and trace down any family history or links to the World Wars and tell what they did. Yay for AP World history.
The bell rang, and we all stood up to "honor" the national anthem, although no one really gave a shit about it, ate gum, texted friends, and such. Mr. Zexion didn't seem to care, or give them a detention. Way to have favorites, winner.
When it was over, I talked to the teacher.
"Turn off your cell phone during school from now on please. Alright?"
"Yes, sir." I was looking down, not staring in his face. It was too scary and authorative to do such a thing.
"Good. Now, I heard that you were trying out for the hockey team. Is that correct?"
I was appalled. Surely, he couldn't be the coach, right? Well, I thought, he did have a good enough muscular build, a good authorative command; maybe he could be the coach. "Yes, I am. I am trying out for goalie."
"Hm….", was all he said after that. It appeared that he had or was putting a lot of thought into this, or at least been through stress to get someone like me. "Okay then. I'll see you next week, tryouts start on Monday."
"Ok then coach. Thanks."
"No prob."
As soon as I started walking to the door, I figured, hey, he wasn't that bad of a guy. I figured I should let loose on him a little, so I did. Anyways, I walked out, and I saw a streaming amount of students, and the enormous amount of sound coming from all their mouths. What was worse, you could hear loud, teenage girl voices over everything, and it almost fucking drove me to death. Those high squeals of a voice were such a vile excuse of talking.
I navigated myself to my locker, and finally checked on my phone; it was Axel, with him saying, "I'm bored."
How great of him to tell me that.
I was packing and unpacking books when Axel came over. He stretched his arm to put his hand on a locker and leaned on it, while turning his body to me. "What up with you, man? Why'd you didn't answer back to the text?"
"What was there to answer back to? Oh, and you got me in trouble with Mr. Zexion. You just have to love P-A-T-D don't you."
He gave a small laugh, like a giggle, except not girly, like the word giggly. Ugh. "Ha! So, what is your punishment? He normally makes students take detention in his class, which is hell, and hands out demerits faster than whores handing out boobs." I laughed insanely at that. Axel would always make such funny jokes, they were all hilarious.
"None. He didn't give me any at least. Oh, and somehow he found out I'm trying out for goalie."
"….Really? I envy you. It seems that he likes you, at least for wanting to be goalie. He hates my ass though. I-"
"Well, at least that doesn't mean he's gay."
"HA!!" Everyone looked around their shoulders to look toward us, toward the source of the laughter. I laughed along with him because I didn't care that people were looking, and Axel's laugh was contagious. Everything about him screamed popular, charismatic, and charming. "Dude, you make some of the freaking best sarcastic and funny jokes I've heard in some time!"
While we were laughing, he noticed something, and spoke towards it. "Sup, Bryan."
"Sup." They 'pounded" their fists only to have "Bryan" turn towards me. "So", he said. "Who's the newbie? Looks kinda cute."
"As cute as kittens, huh, Roxas." He laughed along with his friend, and soon after, 3 other friends came by Bryan and Axel. They looked sort of jockish, or at least "cool", or "popular". Have you noticed how uncool it is to say "cool" anymore? It sounds so lame now. Anyways, I knew then that there was the test. I had to surpass it, give some promise, you know?
"Funny, Bryan. I'm sure you'd look cute with, uh, some booty pants and some eyeliner. That would bring the boys to the yard."
Suddenly, the 5 of them erupted with laughter. Hey, back then, I was getting my groove on; I was on a fucking roll, baby. I was so the shit.
"Who is this kid?!", said a tall person with bleach-blond hair. They continued with their questioning of who I was until Axel stopped laughing.
"He's the person I was telling you about, Jackson. He's the frenchie I have been introducing around here, his name is Roxas; Roxas Le TWAH." I saw nods of agreement and acceptance with the others, and then Axel continued. "Oh, and Bryan and Mel, you know he wants to try out for the hockey team? He says he's a goalie."
"Really?!", said the two. Bryan was almost exactly the size of Roxas, 6'3, and had black hair that spiked up at the tip. Mel had some orange hair and looked like a ginger, but was maybe a little taller than both of them, and of a good muscular build. "Dude, that's cool. The fag of a goalie we had last year ran off for some reason. We were desperately hoping for a goalie, and all.", said Bryan.
"So! Have long have you been playing ice hockey?", said the ginger, Mel. I wondered how I should have responded to the question when Axel stepped in.
"See, Mel, that's what I wanted to, uh, talk to you and Bryan about. I wanted to take Rox down to The Freezer to take him skating. He…hasn't played ice hockey before, or at least played goalie while on ice. I, wanted to, like, bring both of you down with us and help him, shoot on him, and maybe tomorrow we can get a scrimmage in with the rest of the guys." The Freezer?....Rox?
Mel and Bryan talked a bit before replying back, saying that they were okay with it and were going to meet us at 3:30 at "The Freezer".
"Axel?", I asked.
"Mhmm?"
"Two questions; the Freezer? What the hell is that." I stated the question in such a cool dull tone back then. And please, take the sarcasm seriously, it's the only thing that keeps me alive reliving these thoughts.
"Oh, right. It's what we, like, call our Ice Hockey rink. It's not that far from here…would you want to go now, or closer to 3:30?"
"Well…", I pondered. I made a promise to myself that this year I would try a lot, this being Junior Year. I was taking 4 AP classes. "I have 5 homework assignments that I could get a work on, but…sure, why not." Hey, promises were meant to be broken at the beginnings of school years, don't blame me.
" 'Kay then. Follow me." So I did. I just started looking around, and realized how nice the school looked…like, really freakin' nice. How did I not realize it before? It was fall in New York, and yet, flowers were blooming here with such a good design of the school that made it look like the shit. This was probably nicer than in LA. After I stopped wondering about the niceness of the school, I soon had this pretty big building in front of me. There was a sign saying, "Hughes Malkin Spaulding Ice Hockey Rink, Also Known As The Freezer".
"So this is it, Axe?"
"Axe?...Oh, yeah, this is it."
"Hey. You called me Rox."
"Touchè."
We walked in and, for some reason, I loved the smell of the rink. Now, you would ask, why would you love the smell of layers of frozen water and sweaty teens, but I say that you need to shut the fuck up and come visit this. I mean, I don't know why, but it just smells, like, really good, and it smells just like a scent of grapefruit. I looked around and saw two ice rinks. On one rink, there were two sophomore-looking girls skating together, practicing some moves; on the other, there were two goals, the three lines in a hockey rink, the crease, and more that would signify that it was a hockey rink. There was nobody there, so we just went on over to the benches and then we stood still, with me looking towards the rink.
"W-….wow. This is…amazing. Like, I'm not even freaking kidding you, this ice hockey rink is where it's at."
"I know, right? Anyways, there's some spare equipment in the locker rooms, so let's get some on you and fit you up for skates." So that is what I exactly did. And let me tell you, even these locker rooms were nice. You know that hockey produces the most sweat out of every single sport? Mhmm, it's a fact out of an experiment some guys on Fox Sports did on Sports Science. Anyways, I could see the multiple equipment rooms from the entrance, but I guessed that the lockers were hidden behind concrete walls.
"Axel…I just want to make sure on this, so don't laugh, but…", I started to say. There was a voice in my head that said he was definitely going to laugh. "…Is this a rich school?"
Axel made one of those noises that you do when someone does something so stupid, or so naively that sounds like a mild pig snort, except it isn't. "Hahahahahaha!" I called it.
"Are you asking a serious question?", he said. "Of course this is a 'rich school'. Don't you know what the tuition is, that this is a private school? Hell, we have our own ice hockey rink, of course this is a poor school!" He was saying all that with tears of laughter in his eyes.
"Thanks for making me feel better, man."
"Yeah…hah! No problem!"
I guessed that from his perspective, this was just like walking into the biggest mansion in the world with all the possible amenities in the world and asking if the owner of the house was rich. That caused me to start laughing.
Axel and I walked towards the equipment room and brought out some goalie equipment, skates, a mask…everything I could possibly need. "Now…I will need to know what size shoe you wear, because skates here are about a size higher than your usual size."
"Um…", I said as I looked down. I had, like, really small feet for a junior. "Last time I checked, it was…um…like…size s-seven." I flushed at the time, and put on a nervous grin while scratching my head.
"Ahh, so you have some pretty cute feet.", he said, in a somewhat sexy, low tone that could turn any girl or fag on. I knew it was a joke, but it was sort of unsettling at the time. "Okay, size 8 it is then. First, put on some socks. I think we have 4 or so new pairs around here…" He went back again to the equipment room and then got some thick hockey socks for me. Then I put on the skates, and then my goalie equipment, my glove, and my mask.
"Axe, this stuff looks expensive..." I heard him sigh, and shake his head.
"Tsk, tsk. Do we have to go over this again?"
"…Right, my bad."
My blond hair sort of crunched together and partly covered my eyebrows. I know he was looking at me and he gazed at my face for some time. "Dude…you look…l-like you need to workout m-more." I was somewhat appalled by his tone; he seemed nervous at the time. "In ice hockey, it's more tiring than street or roller or inline hockey for some reason, it just is. Might want to build up on your muscles in the workout room another day."
I widened my eyes. "You guys have a workout room?"
He laughed and said, "Yeah, one in each of our 3 gyms." Oh. My. God. This was a rich school. Were my parents even aware that they were putting me in such a great school?
"Wow. Okay then. Let's go out." Apparently, Axel changed out of his clothes and into his uniform and equipment at light speed when I wasn't looking, and had a stick in one hand and a puck in the other. I grabbed my long goalie stick and we headed out onto the luscious, great-smelling rink.
****************************
Shit.
Pucks were coming towards me, left and right, and my body was getting worn down pretty quick. Axel, Mel, and Bryan brought out 3 buckets of pucks and shot from me on all angles…I think there were about 100 pucks in total in those three bins. I had let 6 go by me.
How much fucking longer, my fucking legs are going fucking numb.
"Rox…", Axel panted. He was getting a little tired from repeatedly shooting as well, and trying to possibly aim somewhere that I wouldn't save. "…You are…pretty good at this…"
"Yeah", said Mel and Bryan. I was on fire, but fire needed a little rest. I started scrambling from making a kick save to start at the beginning of the horizontal line of shooters again, but they stopped. They all had two more pucks left, each.
"Rox, this is what we are going to do for the end…", Axel said, tired as well. "First, we will take out last still shots on you. You will be given time in between shots. After we are done with that…we will have a penalty shot, starting from the circle", he said, pointing to the center of the rink. "Good luck."
I was guessing that they were really going to snap a shot from their stick…and they did. Mel had slapshot towards the upper corner from about 45 feet out, but I grabbed it at the last second as I fell to the ground with legs outward. "Holy shit! You just freakin' robbed Mel's Slap!", Axel said. Apparently, Mel was the shit when it came to slapshots.
Bryan this time controlled the puck by tapping it back and forth, and then snapped a wrist shot and I had barely managed to kick it out. "Nice, nice.", was all he said.
It was Axel's turn, and he had an was at an angle. However, he faked a slapshot and when for snapping a wrist shot, and it went to my glove side, and I almost managed to get it before it zoomed by me, went off the post, and went in. "Aw…", said Bryan and Mel. "Well, his snapshots are unstoppable, so I don't blame you. Time for the shootout Rox, we all got our special moves.", said Bryan. He had a grin on his face that told me he sure as hell was excited about this.
First up was Axel. He took to the right side, deked once, and then dragged the puck and skated horizontally with the goal. I fell for his deke, and had flopped on the ground, and was then try to get to the other side where he was shooting. Right when he shot it, I rose my stick and aimed it toward the puck, floating towards the goal in slow-motion; I came in contact with the puck with my stick while the rest of my body was sprawled onto the ice.
As I saved it, Axel skated toward Bryan and Mel and screamed, "HOW THE FUCK DID HE SAVE THAT?!" Everyone laughed including me. I raised my mask and started to speak words that were somewhat challenging and cocky.
"Am I that good, or does Axel just suck balls?"
"I think it's both, he so wants some cock.", laughed out Mel.
We all laughed as Axel had this grin and he turned away from us as he said, "Fuck off, fucking ginger. I'll see you guys in the locker room!"
Now it was Mel's turn. He skated down the center, fake a wrist shot, and brought it to his backhand, and used the back of his stick's curve to lift the puck up into the net…if I wasn't goalie. I followed his movements, and of course, saved the lifted puck with my left hand. Disbelief fell into the eyes of Mel, and he skated off. It was only me and Bryan then.
"So, kid. You are pretty damn good!", he yelled, from the center of the rink.
"I know, right? You aren't that bad either!", I said. I also had to yell louder from my mask for my words to clearly reach him. "Come on now, ya little pussy! It's done!"
So he started coming, with his head low. He started on the right side, and deked 3 times, and then he tried something I haven't seen except once on video. He put the curve of his stick literally over, and then flipped his stick and somehow the puck was still on it. He moved around his stick with the puck still on it, and I didn't know what to do. When he came close, he moved and waved his stick to the left and brought it down to stuff it in the upper corner of the net as I fumbled around with myself, struggling to even keep up with the puck itself.
"H-Holy shit.", I whispered. "Where the fuck did you learn moves like that?" He gave me some shrug and responded with a normal, broad answer.
"I just, you know, have been playing since I was, um, like, 5. My dad played for the Pittsburgh Penguins and Anaheim Mighty Ducks when he was younger, and was a 2nd liner, or 2nd string for simpler terms. He taught me since my young "initiation".
"Ah…", I said, while getting up. "Let's go on back to the locker room."
"Sure thing."
As we approached, we heard movement and saw some shadows that came from the shower part of the locker room that looked pretty…umm…sexual? That was when we heard low moans, and I saw a head of a lot of spiky, exotic hair on top of the other, probably looking down at him. That was when I stared at Bryan, and he stared back at me; we both knew what question we were asking.
What the fuck was going on?
As we heard more moans and as we stepped closer, Bryan decided to go in. I closed my eyes as I heard Bryan walk up to the showers, and then I opened my eyes and followed at a good pace.
"What the fuck is goi-", Bryan said, before he was stopped by utter laughter.
I came around the wall and saw Axel and Mel, laughing as they lay down side by side next to each other. "MAN, that is going to be such a great fucking classic! HAA!!!" I was standing there, just watching them laugh, confused. What the hell was going on? Right when I thought that, I heard my phone vibrate and walked over to the locker to check on it. It was a text from Riku.
"Wut up with u. Oh, n I ?'ed Axl for th #."
I replied back with, "Wll, I played hckey w/ Axl and Mel and Bryn. Gimme SNKR's #'s plz, if u cn." I closed my phone and then walked back towards Axel and the others. Apparently, as it was soon explained, Axel and Mel sat next to each other and started doing moaning noises. Because of the way the light was positioned, Axel could lay next to Mel and it would look like they were lying on each other. I still have to admit, that was slick.
After the laughter and taunting, we headed out. It was 4:53, and Mel and Bryan left for their carpool, leaving Axel and me together. We soon said our goodbyes as he gave me his MSN and we promised to talk at around seven. My mom pulled up at the pickup place for the school and smiled as I came into the car.
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fLaMeZaNdDiCez has logged on.
'Bout fucking time. Homework had been finished a long time ago, and I already had dinner and I was left with nothing to do except start building my secret room in the house. I asked my mom about maybe buying a bean bag to sit in and maybe a couple furniture pieces and she said she would think about it.
fLaMeZaNdDiCeZ: sup
LeSmex: nm. Getin sum info about sum soccer clubs around heer.
fLaMeZaNdDiCeZ: nice. Watchin sum NHL ovr heer.
LeSmex: whch team?
fLaMeZaNdDiCeZ: teh Penguinz. duh.
LeSmex: Booooooooooo. Penguins cn screw thmselves w/ watevr diks they hav, lets go thrashres.
LeSmex: thrashers*
fLaMeZaNdDiCeZ: U gotta b kiddin me…they fuckin sck balls.
LeSmex: They hve the bst sniper in teh game, so scrw u.
fLaMeZaNdDiCeZ: watevr. anywaiz, wonderin' if u wana join me n SNKR 2 a party on friday. It's in mnhttn and it shuld b awsum.
LeSmex: um…………nah…I was thinkin' if SNKR and u wnted 2 hang out, maybe stay teh nite at my place on Sat.
fLaMeZaNdDiCeZ: u no wat, that's actully a good idea. I'll txt themm, see if they wnt it. Wat time?
LeSmex: uh…5? Ye, shure, 5.
fLaMeZaNdDiCeZ: …..hpe u ment 5 PM, I txtd them.
LeSmex: mhm, I did. Tell thm 2 brng a swimsuit and a twl, n whatever els is fun.
fLaMeZaNdDiCeZ: …….kk, aded tht. U no, we got u good in the lckr room. Was fuckin sweet
LeSmex: lol. I nvr would have thought of it. Tht was sneeky
fLaMeZaNdDiCeZ: inoryte? Anywayz, I got sum lst-minut hmwrk 2 do, so gotta go. Peac
LeSmex: bb
fLaMeZaNdDiCeZ has signed out.
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Back then, right after the conversation, I thought about the party. Maybe I'd find a hot girl or somethin', I don't know. Even Kairi and Naminè were kinda cute too. You know, I had never been to a party or social back then, so I thought, "Why not start now with such a good start to the year?" So I grabbed my fugly (fuckin' + ugly = fugly) cheap-ass phone and texted Axel; I didn't mean to start a conversation, so I just said, "Axl, chngd my mnd, will be at prty, tll me info and I'll be ther. bb."
I soon received a text saying the address, date, and time and who it was that was hosting the party. Apparently, it was a junior who he said was "fuckin' hot dood", so I looked her up on Facebook, and man. She looked like a model…not only that, she looked like a Playboy Model. She had the full set of being a blonde (not trying to be stereotypical, but seriously, American blondes have more of an edge to them, you know?), having fake boobs that really popped off the chest and brought eyes to them, and a nice smile. Apparently, she was athletic as well, playing tennis and track.
I wouldn't mind to watch her run…yes, I can be a huge perv sometimes.
Anyways, I went to my bedroom which had a 34" Plasma Samsung TV with a Nintendo Wii and a xBox 360, and a good bed that was really damn comfortable. Crying in that bed never let me down. I flipped through the channels before deciding to play Rock band on the guitar, and then guitar with vocals on the song, All the Small Things, by Blink-182. Then it got boring in 2 minutes, like it always does. I looked at my clock and it read 9:54, so I headed out to the guest room and took the 20" TV there and took it to the secret room behind the shower. I placed it on the wood there and plugged it into an outlet and set it up, and then brought in my 360, as there is semi-limited space in there. I also plugged that in, but I had to be aware of the electronic I put in there, as I only had 2 outlets there…for the time.
I played FIFA 09 on the 360, for about 30 minutes, and then read the book The Curious Case of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon, and it was turning out to be a weird, yet somehow fascinating book about this young boy who thought just logically, and no way else. I would have to continue later though, as I got to page 39 when the time became 10:41 P.M, so I turned off the lights in my secret room as I got out of the room and the bathroom, walked through the hallway in which I could hear fresh booze and the screaming of my parents, and went to my room and closed the door. I could still hear their screaming, but at least it didn't fucking hurt my ears like it did in the hallway. My ears were somewhat sensitive.
I turned off the running TV when I saw some night-time calling program for adults (A/N: Those get really fucking annoying.) and turned off the light in my bedroom, wrapped myself in covers, and thought.
That day, I had it good. In fact, when I looked back on it all, I felt a tear come streaming out of my eye. At the time, my mind and thoughts just couldn't handle how much greater my situation had been, how great it had changed, and, just, the heat of the moment. It was just…it was freakin' insane to think that all this could happen. I know Eric would be smiling with me if we were talking to each other now, smiling about how good we have it now. I wished he could sleep on the floor next to my bed, so we could laugh about how he almost killed himself over such a stupid situation. But the fact was that he did commit suicide. He did jump off that table, he did fall, and the blood did splatter. The innocent blood of a budding young adult was on their fucking hands. Those fucking little assholes didn't know the pain they had created, the depression that had been enstilled in us. They just didn't fucking know. And that made more tears come out. And more. And more. Sobs were silent to the rest of the world though, as birds chirps and parents' screaming over such an insignificant topic drowned out the pain, just like in LA.
It would get much weirder in New York, however, and eventually, it would start to take a turn for the worse. A turn that drove Roxas off the cliff, and a turn that was much worse than LA's.
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PLEASE REVIEW! And by the way, the chapter, if you didn't notice, was so much freaking longer. Jeez.
Just do that, and wish me luck for staying alive I guess. Also, I forgot to mention this at the beginning, but Jayrin Paige (right?) will now be my S.O. BETA dude. Yay. (Confetti, lights, please; bring in the celebration.) In the mean time, I am going to go out and record the hurricane, maybe get it on or put it on YouTube. It's starting to heat up and I saw a wave that was at least 15 feet high, and I am not over exaggerating and am being quite literal.
Okay, bye bye, and review. Please. Maybe? No, not maybe, surely. Follow me on Twitter? Yes.