I keep losing track of what chapter I'm on but really does it matter. Probably not. It's the next one.


Predator


On any other weekend Gary would have used his free time to knuckle down on his plans, but this wasn't any other weekend. He'd gotten back late on Friday dirty and jaded, then spent at least an hour under a hot shower.

Though he slept like a log, when he woke he didn't get up, staying shrouded in his covers, groggy and dazed. He didn't eat, didn't dress, and certainly didn't take his medication. Doing any of those things meant addressing the real world, which he couldn't face currently; not when he felt like an imposter in his own body, like his real self had checked out the moment he'd kissed Lola last night and hadn't yet returned. Because the real him wasn't the person who had done that and liked it, who'd let Lola make him want her. It couldn't be.

So he stayed in bed and smoked out of his window in place of food, waiting for the confrontation.

"So, exactly why are you behaving like a pathetic, washed-up loser?" he asked himself as evening approached, finally rounding on the issue when he could put it off no longer.

"That's a way of putting it," was his frosty reply. "I just didn't expect it to be like that. I didn't think it would be so... good." It sounded stupid, but that was the only word he could bring.

"You're human, of course it felt good," he pointed out to himself. "It's not like you could help it."

"I could've enjoyed it less," he argued. "It was so-" he broke off, grasping for words, "personal." He'd thought it would be a meaningless physical act, but instead felt as if marks had been scored all over his body. Burned tracks of where Lola had been, scarring her name just under his skin.

"It was a fuck," he reasoned with himself crudely. "It has to be personal. It's not as if you're any different now."

"I suppose," he conceded, shutting his eyes and sighing.

"Well, do you like her?" he questioned scathingly.

"No." That answer was glaringly obvious. The very thought of her made his skin crawl with dirty remembrance and a nauseating churning in his stomach.

"Good. That's the first thing out of the way then," he consoled himself. "Now, do you want to do it again?"

"... I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe."

"So you have more of a sex drive than you thought," he consoled. "Big deal. If people didn't like fucking, it wouldn't be such a popular pasttime."

"But I'm better than that," he argued. "That's why I can't- that's why..." It was why he was flipping out over this, all alone in his room like he was Peteyor something.

"It doesn't make you a weaker person just to have a libido," his reflection lobbied. "Only if you can't control it."

"Right," he agreed, but he wasn't sold yet.

"It's only a weakness if you let it be," he continued. "So don't let it be." Gary nodded to himself, silent and pensive in his own company.

"I can do that," he replied. "I can control it." It was tentative, but hopeful.

"Obviously," he assured himself. "If anything, it's another weapon."

"Maybe," he considered. He didn't know how well he could abuse something when it had the ability to incapacitate him so much. Perhaps he'd improve with practice – assuming he was going to practice.

"So quit being a big wet blanket about it," he chided himself. "It was just sex."

"Okay," he accepted. "No big deal."

"Exactly," he agreed, working himself back together, because no one else had the ability to do it. "So take what you've learned, and then tomorrow go out there and get some work done."

"All right," he relented. "Deal."

With Saturday written off, on Sunday he came back with a vengeance, having reconfirmed his sole, unquestionable position as the center of the universe – his universe, at least. No one shared that cosmos with him; never more than one sun in a solar system. After sluggish sleep, waking from it like a hangover, he started the new day the best way he knew how: a cigarette and poking fun at the dorm's resident homosexual. Well, the dorm's resident closeted homosexual.

"Petey!" he cheered, perched on the wall outside the dorm, waiting for the welp to emerge after his beauty regime. "Good morning, and whata morning it is." He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew it in Petey's face.

"Gross, Gary," he muttered, waving a hand in front of his face. "I can't believe you're still doing that. You smell like an ashtray."

"Better than smelling like someone else," he commented a little too fast for Petey to catch.

"What?" he said quizzically. "Smelling like-"

"Never mind," he dismissed. "Just chit-chatting, Petey, just chewing the fat. Come on, princess, I've got some errands to run in town and I need you." Petey looked at him as if he'd just announced he was passionately in love with Eunice and intending to go wooing said heavy-object of his affection.

"You... what?" he asked quietly. "You need me?"

"Sure, femme-boy," he confirmed, thumping a hand over the back of his neck. "What's the matter? Didn't you say I should treat you better?"

"Well... yeah, but I never expect you to listen," he answered uncertainly.

"You don't know your own powers of persuasion, Petey," Gary decreed, jostling him into a walk. There was plenty of time in the day so he'd walk them all the way to Blue Skies. Nice mid-morning stroll.

"Really?" Petey didn't sound at all convinced.

"Oh yes," Gary assured. "In fact, I'm counting on it."

He used an admirable show of self-restraint and managed not to provoke Petey into an argument or give him reason to storm off as they made their way into the industrial estate. For which – considering he didn't take his meds at the weekends – he felt he deserved congratulation, and of course didn't get because all he was doing was conforming to the standard of acceptable behaviour.

"Just what is it you have to do here, Gary?" Petey questioned suspiciously, as they crossed over the bridge and derelict houses were replaced with barren industrial estates and trailer parks.

"I'm making a social call, Petey, relax," he goaded, and then strolled up to the nearest bunch of townie kids. "Greetings, unemployables," he called out brightly. "Where's the boss?"

"Hey!" one of the townies shot. "It's that guy!"

"Easy, boys, easy," Gary urged, glancing at Petey and grinning in response to the look of sudden and uncontrolled fear in his eyes. "I'm not here to start trouble."

"Yeah, right," another jeered.

"Really," Gary insisted. "Look, I even brought Bullworth's new Head Boy as my escort." He slapped a hand on the back of Petey's shoulder to punctuate. Then all eyes were on Petey, like jackals watching a lost rabbit that had bounced up into their den.

"S'at true?" a boy in orange mumbled.

"Uhhh, yeah," Petey answered awkwardly. "So please don't hurt us, I mean... Gary doesn't really want to cause any trouble," he urged, knowing that he should have expected something like this from the moment Gary had professed to 'need' him. He was clearly far too gullible – at least where Gary was concerned. The townies murmured among themselves, and then finally turned to give their verdict.

"Why'd you wanna see Edgar?"

"For a friendly chat," Gary answered. "I wanted to apologise for getting you good boys into trouble last year – I was on a lot of medication at the time, and it made me a bit... unstable," he explained sheepishly, and it was known only to Petey that the reason he was unstable was because he'd been off medication, not on it. Gary would obviously try to spin it the other way. He pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket, setting one in his mouth and then holding the pack out to the others. "Can I share a smoke with any of you?" he offered suavely, and almost all of the guys stepped forwards to help themselves.

"Well.. okay," one murmured, lighting his cigarette. "I guess we can see if Edgar wants to talk t'you."

"Much appreciated," Gary purred, sucking on his smoke and blowing the fumes upwards.

"I'll go get him," another offered, skulking off with a smoke trail behind him like an aircraft track. The simultaneous ignition of five cigarettes, though a gesture that had easily wooed the dropouts, also had Pete coughing into his hand.

"Oh Petey, lighten up," Gary chided, propping an elbow on his shoulder with his smoking hand. He took a drag, then tried to put the cigarette into Petey's mouth, at which point he fussed and shoved Gary away.

"Stop it," he berated, and Gary only huffed at him.

"Don't be so square," he retorted. "Have you ever even tried a cigarette before? Live a little." He held it out to Petey again, who just stared at Gary's hand like he didn't understand what to do with it.

"I don't want to," he professed. "It's bad for you."

"What isn't?" Gary shot. "You're not going to get cancer from one little drag on a cigarette. I'm just asking you to demonstrate you're not a complete loser to these guys, Petey, so play along," he pushed, sure that Pete wouldn't hold out.

He watched the little Head Boy's eyes roll round the judging assembly of townies, buckling like so much bad scaffolding. Peer pressure was such a fun tool to use, and made Gary's satisfaction all that greater when Pete reached out and tentatively took the lit cigarette from him. He put it to his mouth to take a pathetic drag on it, holding for maybe a second before he started to cough violently, which was met with laughter from just about everyone watching – though no one more amused than Gary.

"There, are you happy?" he croaked. Gary chuckled, his hand shadowing Petey's as he took the cigarette back and showed him how it was done.

"Watching you choke like you tried to suck too much dick? Always," he murmured with a grin full of teeth, sharp and white.

"Ha ha," Petey muttered crossly, and Gary rolled his eyes.

"Ohh, I'm just messing with you, Pete," he sighed, shaking him by the shoulder sort-of affectionately. Moments later Edgar strolled up with another couple of boys.

"What in hell do you want round here?" the leader demanded, barbaric as always.

"Making amends, old friend," he professed, his hand still lingering on Petey's shoulder. "I even brought a chaperone as a sign of goodwill. Here," he cheered, shoving Petey forward a step so he stumbled. "The Head Boy of Bullworth!"

"This little pipsqueak?" Edgar crowed, peering down at Petey. "Ain't he a freshman or somethin?"

"I'm sixteen," Petey grumbled resentfully.

"Don't mind him," Gary excused, walking past Petey towards Edgar. "He just gets all worked up, it's the stress of rule or something. Not that I'd know about that," he jested, looking Edgar straight in the eye, free from fear.

"Well, whaddya want?" the bossman said more like an insult than question.

"I'd like a friendly little talk," Gary insisted. "Nothing more."

"You wanted one of them last time, too," Edgar recalled. "I don't remember it ending too well."

"Sorry about that," Gary offered. "Really, I am. I just thought you might appreciate someone from the inside updating you on how things are school-side. I mean, unless your friends Zoe and Jimmy make the trip down here and let you know about stuff like that – when they're not to busy trying to become teen parents, at least."

"Uh, Gary-" Pete started to mumble.

"Hush, Petey, grownups are talking," Gary interjected without looking away from Edgar, who was himself looking like he'd been chewing lemon rind.

"No... I ain't seen'em recently," he admitted, not quite disguising the reservation in his tone.

"Pity," Gary remarked without sincerity. "Such a shame when two people get together and fall out of touch with their old friends."

"What're you saying?" Edgar pushed. "Zoe ain't abandoned us."

"Of course not," Gary assured, like a nurse to a patient just before driving the hypodermic into them. "I just... well... you boys aren't at that school, you don't see what things are like."

"Gary-" Petey attempted again.

"Petey, I'll give you a kiss when we're done," Gary snapped in exasperation, and then all eyes were on Pete once more and he turned a furious red.

"What- no, that's not. I'm not... he's just saying that," Petey protested to the critical onlookers. "Gary, tell them-"

"I'm busy right now, femme-boy," he answered briskly, standing beside Edgar with his arms crossed over his chest. "C'mon, Edgar. I've got all sorts of information for you." He jerked his head, walking off on one of the dirt tracks through the trailer park; didn't even bother looking behind because he knew Edgar was going to follow him.

The clever bit was that this time Gary wasn't even spinning propaganda and false truths in his ear; this time, everything he said was true. All hewas doing was informing them – the townies could go and check everything he said for themselves. Since she got back into Bullworth and had her pelvis screwed to Jimmy's, Zoe hadn't been spending much time around her lowlife friends – of course, classes were a big part of that, but Gary didn't have to play that up in his retelling. Instead he played up how Jimmy was always around her, how he used his inane charm and gifts to buy her off, to manipulate her into staying around him, and how sad it'd be if, or when, he dumped her and moved on.

It was one of those wonderful conveniences where the perfect situation already existed, and all he had to do was put on the gloss. By the end of their short walk Edgar was about ready to put his hands round Jimmy's neck and choke him.

Of course, talking to Jimmy would likely set everything straight, but chances were if he came into Blue Skies he was going to be plus Zoe, and that would jam all the works. Edgar wouldn't want to speak to them together, and if he demanded to talk separately it was bound to create friction. Neither Jimmy nor his latest floozy were much a fan of being told what to do.

So with Edgar set to convince his boys that Jimmy couldn't be trusted because he was monopolising Zoe and taking her away from them, Gary went back to pick up Pete – who'd ended up crowded into a corner being intensely questioned by a townie in a white tee.

"Stop flirting and come on, Femme-boy," he announced. "Unless you want to stay and play free-clinic doctor with these nice young men."

"No!" Petey rushed, shouldering his way through the Townies and placing himself at Gary's side like he wanted to be there forever.

"Bye, Edgar," Gary said, raising a hand to wave him off. "Remember, if there's anything you need to know."

"Sure," said Edgar hoarsely, the next piece of the puzzle slotted neatly into place. "See ya."

They departed Blue skies quickly, as it was never the most hospitable place to be, but Petey couldn't wait long before he had to start prying.

"So, uh, Gary... what were you saying to Edgar?" he started in awkwardly. "It sounded kinda-"

"Before you get up on your high little pony," Gary lectured, "everything I told him was absolutely true and said in the very best of spirits."

"Yeah right," Petey countered sarcastically. Only the hints of a smile surfaced on Gary's face, like bubbles rising up in tar.

"Honestly, Pete," he insisted. "You heard, didn't you? Zoe and Jimmy hardly spend much time out here, do they?"

"Well no-"

"And she probably doesn't have all that much time for her old townie buddies any more, what with classes and doing the no-pants dance."

"Well I guess not-"

"So what's the problem with me making a little friendly conversation about it?" he posed.

"You don't make conversation," Petey challenged. "You talk atpeople, convince them of stuff..."

"So you say," he snapped crossly, "but why are you so sure, Petey? I had a normal, honest chat with another human being and you say I'm up to something. If talking to people is my only qualification, I don't have many options for fun, do I?"

"Well I... you're making this seem complicated," Petey replied obstinately.

"What are you gonna do?" Gary proposed. "Tell Jimmy? Go and rat on me?"

"If you're trying to cause trouble then yes, I will," he toughed out, cramming as much resolve into his little frame as possible.

"And there you go again, assuming that I'm up to no good just because I decided to interact rather than sit in my room alone all day," he hissed. "I can't win with you, can I? What do you want? For me to have no friends except for you? For everyone in this dump to carry on hating me? Here I was thinking I could start with those guys because at least they weren't at Bullworth, so I might actually be able to hang out with some people my own age who don't resent me, and you come in to rain all over it."

"Stop it, Gary," Petey said. "That isn't what I meant at all..."

"You have to jump down my fucking throat just because I tried to reach out."

"You were talking about Jimmy-"

"Because he's banging Taylor and she's a friend of Edgar and his boys, what do you want me to talk about? Do I need a list of approved topics from you before I have conversations now?"

"It wasn't just that-"

"You don't think Edgar might appreciate someone coming by to tell him how his little pal has gotten along without him? He's a big boy, Petey, he knows who I am and what I did. If he'd wanted to get rid of me then he would've." That was true. Gary was never a match for Edgar physically, even if he did dwarf him mentally.

"I know he could've sent you away, but... but you make stuff like that seem impossible, Gary," Petey explained weakly. "I mean, I don't seem to learn, do I?"

"What're you saying, femme-boy?" he cooed, reaching out to hook an arm over Petey's neck. "That you don't like me?"

"Not when you're a jerk," Petey murmured, stiff and uncomfortable under his grip; Gary liked that, it was the way things should be. Hostile contact was his domain.

"Well you don't approve of anything I do, so I don't really stand much of a chance, do I?" he posed. "I can't smoke, I can't talk to anyone, I can't talk about anyone. Apparently, Petey, your idea of a good time is you and me alone in a room together not saying anything... which honestly," he trailed into a murmur, sordid and warm against the side of Petey's face, "wouldn't surprise me."

"Get off, Gary," Petey nagged, wriggling away. "It is not my idea of a good time."

"Then what is, femme-boy?" he demanded. "Because I'm running out of options here."

"Okay, Gary, okay. You made your point," Petey conceded. "If you wanna talk to Edgar, go ahead."

"And you won't go snitching to Jimmy?" he suggested, running his fingers like a spider up Petey's arm.

"Fine, okay," he mumbled. "Unless Jimmy asks, I won't mention it."

"Gooood boy," Gary complimented, patting him on the top of his head like a puppy that had learned not to pee indoors. The day was actually going splendidly, all things considered.

However, they had only gotten half way through New Coventry when Gary heard a voice that did something to him. It didn't just crawl, it was like a swarm of cockroaches loose inside him, scuttling through his body, crammed in the recesses, wriggling under his skin.

"Hey stranger," a teasing, familiar voice called across the road. His head whipped like it was on a cord. Leaning back against a boarded-up shop door was the one and only Lola Lombardi; prowling around home turf, perfectly at ease in her element. He only stopped for a step, glancing at her, and then forced his neck straight and carried on walking. "Is that all the recognition I get?" she cooed after him. "After everything-"

"Go on ahead," Gary spoke over her, instructing Petey with a thunderous expression.

"Why's she talking to you?" he queried. "What could Lola-"

"Nothing," he retorted. "So be good and run along into town."

"What? Then why-"

"Just do it, Dorothy," he snapped. "I'm sure you can manage it by yourself, being such a big grown-up girl now. Seriously, beat it!" he snarled, turning more sour and giving Petey a shove.

"Jeesh! Whatever," Petey muttered sullenly, going off on his own and heading for the bridge. Gary turned back to Lola with exactly the same face of disapproval and unhappiness.

"What do you want?" he demanded, walking close enough to her that they could talk without people overhearing, but staying out of reaching distance. Although he didn't want to look at her and remember everything, he couldn't help it. It came back to him like PTSD.

"Still all worked up, baby?" she taunted with a smirk. "I figured you woulda gotten over that by now."

"I'm not worked up," he replied with a quiet, controlled stress. "I just have nothing to say to you."

"Oh, how mean," she replied playfully, pouting her lips as she slid the words into him like ice cubes into a cocktail glass. "I just wanted to see how you were getting on." She winked, which only worsened the sensation of cold water being poured down his back.

"I'm busy right now," Gary told her. He wasn't, but he didn't want to spend any time around her that he didn't have to. Not when just lookingat her brought on memories like a haunting; ghostly, phantom hands that did the things he'd did, touching her the way he had. Even though he was still rooted to the spot, the spectres of his past actions reached for her, parting from him and clawing out as deluded, licentious clouds of pheromones.

"Another time then," she suggested with an opiate tone. A voice that promised things, promised he'd feel better if he just doped up and let it suck him down.

"I'm a busy guy," he said distantly – he couldn't afford to be really rude andpiss her off. Not when he still needed her, and not when she now had the power to reveal something about him.

"And you can't make time for little old me?" she drawled as she swung closer, then tilted her head to one side and glanced up. "Yunno,I meant it when I said you were a good first time... in fact," she phrased the words like a prescription. One correct scribble from the doctor and all the pain would go away. "I'm wondering if you'll get better."

She was teasing him, he knew that, but it didn't stop it working, and it didn't stop his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat when she reached out and touched a fingertip under his chin. He stepped back out of instinct, but she just laughed.

"Oh, honey," she tittered, sauntering closer again. "I just loveit when boys play hard to get."

"You don't know what you're trying to get in for," he replied icily, though he wasn't quite as calm in the self behind his words.

"I don't?" she echoed disbelievingly. "And here I thought I had you all sussed out." Gary glanced around to make sure there was no one who mattered to notice them, then moved in.

"That's not the point," he hissed, reaching up to clench his hands around her shoulders and push her back to the wall. "When I say no, I mean it." It was meant to be intimidating – threatening – but all he could focus on now was exactly what it'd felt like to touch her. Not just like this, but everywhere. How he could easily push her even harder up on the wall, put his mouth over hers and use her to vent and dump those feelings he didn't need. The lust and desire, eating away at him like acid. He could throw them to her like the scraps of meat she so hungered for.

"Isn't it, stud?" she purred, letting the sexuality roll off her in waves. So that it would be so easy.

He both wanted and didn't want, impulses contradicting one another. He told himself he had to control it; that it was only a weakness when he let it be. But if he let the urges run him, he was no better than her – no better than Jimmy. So he tightened his resolve, screwed it down until it couldn't budge.

Then he looked square at her and bent his arms, ducking suddenly until his lips touched hers so suddenly shedidn't expect it. The brush was light at first, but pressure came with a slow, steady push like a closing vice. She followed the lead, mouth plying against his, swallowing aggression and lust like hot coffee.

He felt her hand go to the back of his neck and trail upwards, nails brushing up his hairline. Before she could cement her grip, he tightened his hands on her shoulders, keeping her to the wall as if she were bolted there, and pushed back, ripping his mouth away like a piece of tape. He'd played it smart this time; one minute cold, then interested, now frozen again.

"If I decide I want you again," he murmured, enjoying the haze in her eyes – like she didn't know if she was coming or going, "and that's a big if... I'll let you know." He peeled her hand off him. "Not the other way around."

He released her and stepped back, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it as he turned away. He took the first heavy drag as he started to walk, then turned and spat the taste of tobacco and Lola into the gutter.