Chapter 10
XX
Arianna stood nervously in front of her closet door mirror, trying on yet another outfit and worrying that it wasn't good enough. Patterson was not just any boy, he was the boy. He was the hottest, coolest, manliest and smartest boy she'd ever met. And Arianna Lovejoy was no ordinary girl. She was going to be courteous to him, make every effort to show him how much she cared about this first date.
In preparation- long before Arianna had even started trying on clothes for the date- she'd spent more than an hour in the bathroom, taking a long and careful shower. Every inch of her hair and skin had been gone over, carefully treated and conditioned. Every time Arianna even thought of Patterson, especially when he smiled and wasn't wearing a shirt, her heart did a happy little flip-flop again and Arianna felt ten times more nervous about going on her first date with him. She needed to pick what she wore carefully. Patterson had probably not made up his mind about whether he wanted to start seeing her as her boyfriend. If she made it look like she didn't care, or cared too much, she'd lose his interest.
No jeans! What were you thinking?! And that shirt- this is not Casual Friday! Are you kidding me?!
Sighing in despair, Arianna pulled her red t-shirt over her head and tossed it aside, unbuckled the jeans she'd tried on and yanked them down, then kicked them aside. Oh, this was going so badly. That was the tenth outfit she'd tried. A couple had seemed all right, but fretting as she was over this date, Arianna couldn't seem to tell if the outfits she'd tried actually were that bad or if she was just overthinking it.
Please. That boy deserves the best. He's going to make a great catch for someone one of these days, and if you want it to be you, girl, you're just going to have to do better. This is not- oh, well, underwear might work. He'll be attracted then, right? Right? He slipped up and admitted he thought you were beautiful, so underwear could definitely work.
Arianna balled her hands up and hissed in frustration. I can't go on a date in my underwear! Robert will think I'm trying to sleep with him right this second and then I'll wind up scaring him off!
Too much, too little. Too formal, too casual. Every single thing Arianna had tried on had some major flaw and that was why she'd been at this for over an hour. Good God. She had set it all up. Robert was coming to see her in just one hour! He was going along on what was officially a shopping trip, just another one that Dad let her do every now and then. It was a good thing that Dad was trusting enough of his daughter that he'd let her make it an open evening, so long as she was back by nine.
It was also convenient that Dad had unexpectedly gotten called to some meeting or another. Arianna didn't know what it was about, but Dad had said it was unavoidable. So she'd assured him she would keep her word and be back no later than nine, feeling only a little guilty for hiding her first serious date from her loving father.
But none of that changed the fact that Arianna was running out of time. The boy she'd spent so much time desperately trying to attract had become just interested enough that he'd agreed to one date. One date! If she messed this up, he'd think she was crazy, or desperate, or something, and he'd walk. Arianna was sure of it. Not because Robert Patterson was cruel or unpleasant, but because he just didn't need that kind of trouble or fuss in his life. He deserved better and he probably knew it.
At least Dad had made sure Arianna had a car fit for a princess. The best car in the world. One so beautiful even Arianna, who had been none too interested in cars at the time Dad had bought it six years ago, had been stunned by its elegance: the 1957 Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud. Majestic in copper red with a silver hood, trunk and roof, the car was as imperious and majestic as any queen. It drew attention, commanded respect, yet also transported its occupant in such style and comfort that Arianna, if she wished, could draw the curtains closed, ride in near-perfect silence, and pretend the rest of the world just didn't exist.
Oh, will you pay attention?! Patterson isn't going to show up for this date in his underwear, even if you sort-of wish he would!
Arianna blushed furiously and looked away from the mirror. She'd spent years watching her figure carefully, becoming haughty and proud as her beauty became more and more apparent. Now all for all her lessons about behavior and etiquette, she just wanted Patterson to go on a date with her in his underwear. Classy.
Okay, well, there has to be something. What will he like? Formal? Casual? Something in between? No, no, casual can't work. You planned on adding dinner at Morton's The Steakhouse, didn't you? Weren't you going to rope him into that, plus going around the mall, and that's why you got William Travis, Dad's driver, to help you keep Dad from finding out?
Thinking of how she'd modified and added to her little scheme actually helped Arianna calm down. She paused, turned, looked again at her dresses, and the very best ones she owned, still hanging in the closet.
I think I have an idea.
XX
Robert Patterson shut off the showerheads one by one and stepped out of the pool locker room's communal shower room, looking for all the world like a Greek statue in motion and feeling like a dumb kid about to lose the chance he never had with the most beautiful girl in the world. He had no chance with Arianna Lovejoy. Why had he accepted her offer of a date? He was just going to let her down. She'd realize how much better she could do, how many classier and smarter guys were out there, and she'd drop him.
Well, if that's how it has to be, I guess I'll be a gentleman and try to be good to her. If a fine girl like that wants to stoop down to go on a date with me… then my time is hers to waste.
"Hey, man," Sam Thompson said, humbly averting his eyes as he handed Patterson a towel. "Thanks for- you know. Not- not-"
"That isn't me," Patterson said. "I already told you."
"Thank you."
"Well, thank you, Thompson, for setting all this up for me."
"I figured you had better go straight from here to see her, you know, shortest distance. That way none of those morons in the barracks can mess up your dress grays." He paused. "I have 'em hung up over in one of the lockers here. They're ironed up, flawless. I got your shoes shined up like mirrors and ditto for your capshield."
"Thanks, Thompson. I appreciate it."
Thompson waited as Patterson dried himself off, then started handing Patterson the clean underwear, black dress socks, white dress shirt he needed to start with.
"I hope your date goes well."
"Thanks."
"Your uniform's gonna be perfect, man. I took care of everything." Thompson snickered. "But are you sure you really wanna go full dress gray? Half might be better. You know, just skip anything that covers you above the waist."
"She isn't that type of girl."
"Haven't you fucked good-looking girls before?"
Genuinely displeased, Patterson turned a withering stare on Thompson. "You must think she's some cheap lay. Is that what you think of her?"
Thompson wilted quickly. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to help you feel better. I didn't mean that about Arianna. You know how everyone says she's a princess and everything." He hesitated. "But- you're not a virgin or something, are you?"
"No," Patterson said. "But that isn't the point." He took the gray dress blouse, closed it at his neck and buttoned it the rest of the way down. "Arianna Lovejoy is the most beautiful girl in the world. I've fucked pretty girls but, man, nobody like her. Because there is nobody like her. And I don't want you even talking about her like the guys do in the barracks."
"I won't," Thompson promised. "Can I help somehow, though? You just seem like you're really nervous. This is just another date, try thinking of it like that."
"I can't do that," Patterson insisted. He accepted the offered gray dress trousers, adorned with a vertical red stripe on either side. They didn't have so much as a speck of dust on them. Patterson pulled them on, pulled his uniform-issue belt through the loops and secured the finely-polished brass buckle. "I don't know why she's wasting her time on me. She could date anybody. She doesn't need me. I don't know why she asked me out."
"Wait, she asked you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Just how it happened."
"But don't guys usually-"
"Guys," Patterson broke in, "usually don't date high-class girls. Not when your parents are park rangers." He sighed. "I probably look like some coal miner to her."
Thompson carefully set the leather dress shoes down. Under even the overhead lights in the locker room, they shone like grounded stars. "You're selling yourself short. If I thought you were just some peasant, I wouldn't have placed an 'Off Limits' sign outside and locked the doors so you'd be left alone for an hour and a half."
"Yeah, I never had such a chance to jerk off and then take a shower in peace. And then jerk off again."
"Did it help?"
"A little. I'm still nervous as hell, man. I'm gonna look like an idiot wearing full dress grays. I bet she just wants to go for casual and I'm overdoing it. She'll think I'm trying too hard. It'll look like I'm desperate."
Thompson carefully handed Patterson his white dress gloves. "It's gonna be all right. You'll do fine."
"A guy like me has no business seeing a girl like her."
"She obviously likes you."
"Well, that's just it, man. I can't figure it out. She could date anybody."
"But she wants to date you. That has to mean something."
"Yeah, man. I don't know what, but… well… how do I look?"
"Awesome, man. You look like a perfect gentleman."
"Good. She deserves nothing less."
"You'll do great," Thompson assured him.
"Only one way to find out," Patterson said, shrugging. He thanked Thompson again and headed out to go meet Arianna Lovejoy. He had five minutes.
XX
Patterson checked himself another time before he rang the doorbell. This huge Colonial-style home looked like what it was, a home fit for a princess. This was the start to a bad joke. The working-class kid from the mountains was calling on the beauty who already had everything. Patterson couldn't find a single speck of dust, a single thread out of place. All that gray with red trim, all that finely polished brass and those leather shoes that gleamed like mirrors, and Patterson still felt like a fool.
Well, just remember to be courteous. She's completely out of your league, but you said yourself her time is yours to waste.
That's real romantic, Rob my man. You should sign it on a fucking Hallmark card.
Maybe I should buy her a card.
Damn it. Why didn't I get a card? Should I have brought roses? Why isn't there a manual on 'Going on a Date With a Princess'?
Well, there was nothing else to do now but announce himself. Patterson pressed the doorbell, made sure his cover and gloves were firmly in place, and waited as he heard a bell chiming inside.
The door opened after a few moments, and a distinguished-looking gentleman in a fine tuxedo and black bowtie looked out at him.
"You would be Mr. Robert Patterson?"
"Yes, sir."
"I am Mr. Travis, Colonel Lovejoy's driver. Miss Lovejoy is expecting you."
"Yes, sir," Patterson said, resisting the urge to start fidgeting.
"Please, come inside. I will bring the car around in just a moment."
"I'll wait here, sir."
"Very good, Mr. Patterson."
Just as the gentleman turned and headed further into the house, Patterson remembered he was supposed to take off his cover. He removed the dress hat and tucked it under his right arm when he noticed someone coming down the stairs.
Someone-
Time slowed, and then seemed to stop. Patterson's eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and he stood there, transfixed, as Arianna Lovejoy came into view. A shimmering, perfect image of beauty. Long, flowing black hair. Skin as smooth as the silk of her dress. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Princess, Patterson wanted to say, but Jack had long ago popularized that as a derogatory term for Arianna. He struggled to keep his eyes off her chest, focusing instead on her naturally-tan shoulders, and desperately tried to think of something, anything to say.
"Hi," he said faintly. Great, he thought. You're an idiot.
"Hi," she replied, smiling at him. "You look very handsome, Robert."
"Not as handsome as you." He felt himself go pale as he realized his error. "No, I didn't mean that. I meant that you look beautiful. Ma'am."
Arianna blushed. "Oh, you really mean it? You like what I picked out?"
"Yes, Miss Lovejoy. Ma'am. Miss Arianna." Patterson felt his face growing hot as he fumbled to find the right words. His closed collar seemed to be trying to choke him.
"What was that you said? I look…?"
"Beautiful," Patterson said carefully. "Ma'am."
She was standing directly in front of him now. "Robert, I told you to call me Arianna."
"Yes, ma- Miss- yes, Arianna."
"I- am I making you nervous, Robert?"
"Yes. No. It's okay. I'm not important."
She regarded him for a few moments. "I think you're very important."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Do I make you nervous?"
Patterson hesitated. He didn't want to make this any worse than he already had. He was probably one more mistake away from making her call the date off in annoyance.
"I'm-I'm just- I want to be polite."
"You've never offended me. Everything's okay. I'm looking forward to our date."
"I am, too," Patterson said honestly. "Thank you for asking me out."
Patterson happened to sense movement behind him just then, and he turned to see a massive, elegant car of copper red and silver, gleaming chrome and whitewall tires, pulling up in front of the house. Determined to make sure Arianna was treated correctly, Patterson carefully opened the door and stepped outside, holding it for her.
"Thank you, Robert," she said. She, too, it seemed, was being careful about being polite. She kept looking at him, as if anxious about his responses.
She can't possibly be nervous! Not like I am! She's a princess!
She's human, my man.
A girl that beautiful just isn't mortal. She's mythical. She's Juliet.
After he closed the front door, Patterson carefully replaced his cover and offered Arianna his arm. He stayed ramrod straight and was terrified she would refuse, or he'd trip or step on one of her fine shoes. But he didn't. Somehow, he managed to keep from making a fool of himself. She linked her arm with his and he walked her all the way out to that priceless work of art masquerading as a car.
As stiffly and cautiously as he could manage, Patterson reached out with one white-gloved hand, clasped the finely-polished, hand-crafted rear left door handle, and pressed a button he spotted on it. With a soft, almost inaudible click, the door released from the frame and Patterson pulled it open, revealing a sea of red leather and luxurious red carpeting. Real wood, polished to as brilliant a shine as the chrome, lined the top of the doors and the back of the front seats. All Patterson could think of was that Arianna deserved nothing less than a car like this one.
Standing almost at attention, Patterson held the door while Arianna got in. She moved over to the right and even smiled and patted the open space to her left.
Well, get in and sit next to her!
Patterson did so, and as he pulled the door shut, all the sound of the outside world seemed to instantly fade away. There was nothing but the quiet hum of the car's engine, probably a V8, one carefully turned for dignity and subtlety rather than speed and power.
"We're going to the King of Prussia Mall," Arianna announced.
"Certainly, Miss Arianna," Mr. Travis said. He shifted the automatic transmission's hear selector and started to drive. The car didn't so much go as glide. Patterson sat exactly where he was in this eminently comfortable seat, fearful of messing something up and causing offense.
She's so beautiful. That girl next to me is the most beautiful- no, no, stop. She's worth more than that and her looks aren't all she is. You better stop right now. You have no chance with her, anyway. Remember: show her every courtesy but don't long over what you can't have.
The two teens did their best to talk 'normally', if normal was awkward and filled with nervous tension. Patterson wanted to apologize for being like this, especially given that this was as far as he'd probably ever get. One date with Arianna Lovejoy, the most beautiful girl in the world. Jack would have considered it a wasted night unless it ended with sex, but Arianna wasn't some whore. Jack had never understood that. Patterson had always thought Arianna was beautiful, but had recognized long ago that he had no chance and thus never worshiped her from afar. But to him, just one date with this girl had always seemed like heaven on earth.
XX
Patterson walked with Arianna into the King of Prussia Mall looking handsome and elegant and feeling awkward and strange. Afraid of offending the beauty beside him, he offered her every courtesy he could think of and then some. He said little unless she indicated she wanted him to speak. He wasn't sure if he should hold her hand or something. The idea seemed too bold, so he dropped it. Arianna seemed oddly nervous herself, and she kept fidgeting behind one ear, drawing Patterson's eyes to her heavenly body, so perfectly shown off in just the right way by her turquoise dress. Every time she tossed her head, that long, jet black hair of hers shifted and flowed black down past her shoulders.
I guess I'm supposed to hold hands with her. Or am I? I don't know. I better not do anything. Listen, if she wants you to do something, she'll say so. Leave it to her. Yes, that's a great idea. She has enough guys trying to make moves on her. Let her make those choices, if she wants to.
It was doubtful that this would amount to anything. Patterson knew he stood little chance of being more than a fleeting friend to this beautiful girl. But after his first look up the stairs, seeing her transformed into something almost mythical in that dress… a date, just one date, was wonderful. Patterson would appreciate it. His time was hers to waste.
XX
They wound up going to see Cadillac Man, a new movie about a car salesman who'd gotten himself into a few too many binds suddenly being thrust into the role of hostage negotiator. An angry young man took Robin Williams' character hostage along with the other staff and visitors to the dealership, and Williams, though hardly a heroic figure or trained negotiator, stayed remarkably calm in a crisis and kept the young man with the automatic rifle from harming anyone.
As the number of police outside grew and the pressure increased, though, the situation looked dire. Patterson began to feel his finely-honed survival instincts kicking in, and his heart beat faster as he started to feel like he was in a fight-or-flight scenario.
Then something else happened. Arianna had gasped and made little startled yelps a few times in the movie, and she'd glanced at Patterson a few times. Finally, Patterson noticed her trying to hold hands with him, nervously reaching for his left hand with her right.
"I'm scared," she whispered, looking at him in the darkened theater.
"It'll be okay," Patterson promised her, though he had no idea. He gently closed his hand around hers.
Ultimately, things ended well enough. Williams' character made it through, and there were no fatalities at all. The only injury was the hostage-taker, who was unjustly shot as he was about to surrender. Patterson disliked that. It was either treachery on the part of the police, or sloppy discipline. Either way, it wasn't right. But at least the man lived, and you could tell he'd made a connection with Williams. Patterson found that easy to understand- even the sleaziest characters Robin Williams played seemed to have an inherent goodness to them, a certain sincerity. It was a quality Patterson admired.
"That was so nice of him," Arianna said, trying to compose herself as the movie ended. "I liked that. I don't usually see movies like that, but, I didn't know what it was about exactly, I kind of just guessed." She looked anxiously at Patterson. "Um, sorry about holding hands." She let go.
"No, it's okay."
"Oh, I wasn't sure if-"
"It really didn't bother me, but-"
"I-I just got really nervous, and I thought it'd be okay if-"
"But I didn't-"
"Well, I won't do it again-"
"It's okay," Patterson said, with forced calm. "I'm- I don't mean to get- jeez. Uh, what I mean is, we can hold hands if you want."
Her beautiful, perfect face lit up. It was like a firework had gone off on the night of the Fourth of July.
"Really?"
"Um, yes. Really."
She laughed, clearly relieved. "Okay. Uh, sorry about, you know, just now."
"We seem to keep interrupting each other. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude."
"You're actually really nice."
"It's how I made First Sergeant."
"Wait, it is?"
"I actually have no idea. They just promoted me."
"They'll promote you again. I know it."
"If they want to, they can."
"What if I want to promote you?"
Patterson smiled. "Please leave me where I am. I don't want to outrank Jack and then have to listen to him get mad and start yelling at me."
Arianna grinned excitedly. "Ooh, do you really think he will? I'd love to see him mad! He bothers me all the time and I'd do anything if it made him mad!"
"Uh…" Patterson cleared his throat nervously. "Well. Um. I bet he'd just hate it if we- if w-we went on a date. Like right now. And- and you know what else he'd hate? If-"
"We had dinner?"
"Huh?"
Arianna hesitated, then meekly said, "Uh… I… I kind of… I made dinner plans…"
What? Why did you do that? You want to waste even more of your valuable time on me? You should be dating some great prince. Not the son of two park rangers. I don't understand you, Arianna. You're beautiful and I don't know why you're doing this.
"I don't want you to get in trouble with your father," Patterson said.
"Oh, I already kind of made the reservation, and, I told him I'd get a lot of big muscles- I mean guys not wearing shirts- shoes- shoes! I might go look at shoes, and not at any guys, but he knows I get dinner here sometimes. And so I made a reservation for two people."
"What about Mr. Travis?"
"I gave him an extra hundred and said he can take the car and go have dinner with his family."
"Oh. Okay. I guess… I mean, I'd be glad to- I will go to dinner with you. If you want."
"Okay!" She took his hand and stood up. "It's over at Morton's! They have a table for us and everything! Let's go!"
"Sure."
XX
Arianna was afraid she was being too forward. And what an unladylike display of excitement, hurrying Robert Patterson out of the theater like a schoolgirl! The situation had almost been much worse, she knew. She'd slipped up and said what was really on her mind, nearly told him her fixation on his huge, sculpted muscles and how stunning he looked shirtless. Arianna couldn't believe how clumsily she had handled extending the date into dinner.
But he said yes.
How close do you think he was to saying no?
Not close enough.
Please. You're wearing it all on your sleeve and you're gonna scare him off or just bore him.
Trying to rectify her mistake, Arianna made sure to say lots of nice but polite things to or about Patterson while they walked through the vast interior of the mall to the exclusive steakhouse where she'd reserved a table. She asked his watercolors and made sure to laugh when he said he had a secret fondness for eating crayons- a persistent rumor about cadets- because she wanted him to think she thought he was funny. Or that she liked him. Especially that she liked him.
Did he like her? Patterson was being so… aloof? Indifferent? Excessively polite? God, he was mysterious! And intriguing! Even now, having just been invited to dinner at an exclusive restaurant with a girl who was basically a princess and had the looks and status to match, Patterson was behaving how he always did. He just refused to pursue her. Once or twice, though, some awkward nervousness on his part had shone through, and that only intrigued Arianna more.
He wouldn't be nervous unless he likes you right back.
No way.
I'm serious.
He's getting bored.
Is that why he smiles and/or laughs every time you say anything even halfway funny?
I happen to be a princess of amazing talent and wit!
Arianna managed to get her date to the restaurant without saying anything really stupid, although at one point she saw a poster of a model who looked so much like Patterson it was insane and fumbled and stuttered through the rest of her sentence. The young man- probably a boy of 18 or 19- was every bit as stunning as Patterson, and even had his color hair. He was in his underwear and that sent Arianna's mind down so many new, exciting, tempting avenues. Patterson, for his part, let Arianna awkwardly recover herself without comment. He was so nice. Jack would have mocked her viciously for it, and then propositioned her again.
It was so pleasant going out with a guy who wasn't like that. Even if Arianna barely understood why he was behaving this way, she loved that he was giving her space. Jack and his crew harassed her so much that this was a welcome break, indeed.
XX
Patterson surprised Arianna again by going through no fewer than four full-size orders of steak, well cooked, plus all the sides that each dish came with. He devoured the food at such a rate that Arianna wanted to ask if he'd eaten in the past few days. But she'd heard about the eating habits of the set of boys who'd come back from the island looking all hunky and awesome. They were all big meat-eaters, always hungry, always ready to chow down on more protein. They needed so much of it that a normal meal for them was well beyond the volume most were used to.
Arianna contented herself with a much smaller half-portion of steak, a salad, and two fried potatoes, although she'd had a pretty light lunch to make sure this didn't hurt her figure. She did her best to keep up a regular conversation, still desperate to cover up for her awkwardness and fumbling earlier.
Patterson was courteous, as usual, and said little himself, preferring to respond to whatever she said. Arianna was nervous and tried to cover it up by chattering about watercolors and any state or national park she'd been to or could even think of. The teens were in a pleasantly secluded corner of the restaurant, chosen specifically so they could talk in peace even at the busiest hours the restaurant had.
Naturally, in their highly formalized dress, the teenagers fit in perfectly. Everyone recognized Patterson as a cadet from Bunker Hill, of course, but he must have looked as magnificent to the other guests as he did to Arianna, because the only looks that were sent his way were approving ones. Arianna herself turned heads, of course, but she expected no less.
Late in the dinner, Patterson discreetly checked his wallet and quietly admitted he had run out of money at the movie theater. "I didn't plan on this," he said. "I'm really sorry."
"It's okay," Arianna assured him. "So, what did you want for dessert?" She looked at the menu. "I don't even know what half of this stuff is." She frowned to make sure he noticed. "Can you read French or something?"
"I can try."
"And they only gave us one dessert menu!" Yes, like I told them to! So we'd end up sitting next to each other!
"Oh. Uh-" Patterson carefully picked his chair up, moved it right next to her, set it down again. He leaned in, trying to read the menu. "Hey, I know what that one is. That first one. That's-"
"Do you like me?"
"Huh?"
Arianna's face was burning, but she'd come too far now. "I-well, I-I think you're… great, and handsome, and really ho-athletic, and, I'd love to go on another date, and another one after that if you want, and, I'd love to go to your swim meets…"
"I'll go out with you again if you'd like me to."
"I really like you, Robert. You're so nice to me. You don't bother me like Jack and his guys do."
"No one should ever treat you that way."
"What if it was up to you?"
"It isn't up to me, Arianna. I just want you to know I'll never long over- over what I can't have."
Arianna stared at him. He stared back at her.
Do something!
What?
Anything!
He still thinks he has no chance with you! Do it! Prove him wrong!
I can't just-
DO IT NOW!
In studying the menu, the two teens' heads had wound up less than a foot apart. Arianna leaned in before she could stop herself and kissed Robert Patterson on the lips. Her stomach did a happy little flip-flop, and then something abruptly exploded, like a huge firework had just gone off. Arianna felt the soft firmness of Patterson's lips, heard him make a small, surprised grunt, but was relieved when he did not break away. He even carefully put one hand on her left shoulder. Arianna pressed in just a little more, keeping the kiss going. Her heart thudded in her chest and she was terrified that she had gone too far, but when he'd said that it had just about driven her crazy. What he couldn't have- here was what he could have!
Morton's was a superb restaurant, one of the best in the King of Prussia, and so when the teen couple's waiter started over to check on them again and saw them "talking," he discreetly withdrew and made sure that other staff steered clear and gave the two kids some space while they had their moment.
Arianna basically forgot to breathe while she kissed Patterson, so she gasped much louder than she meant to when she finally came up for air. Patterson sat there, frozen in place, looking like he'd been hit over the head with something heavy.
"Sorry," Arianna said quietly. "I'm sorry. I got nervous."
Patterson stared at her. "Oh. Okay. That happens."
"I never kissed anybody like that before."
"Me neither. That felt different."
"What's different about it, though?"
"I don't know."
Arianna hesitated. "Did- uh… did you… wanna do it again?"
"All right."
Arianna leaned in and kissed Patterson again, and she closed her eyes this time. For a boy so strong and muscular, his lips were so pleasantly soft that Arianna wanted to just fall into his huge, muscular arms and be safe there. Safe from Jack and his crew, safe from all the things that worried and bothered her. Robert wasn't just the boy she wanted in her life. He was the one she needed. Arianna kept the kiss going as long as she could, feeling like she'd died and gone to heaven, hoping and praying it was that pleasant for him. Patterson, for his part, gently put an arm around her shoulders, albeit only after about half a minute.
No sensation Arianna Lovejoy had experienced in her life felt better than kissing Robert Patterson. Every second felt like an eternity in paradise.
I think you better start longing over what you CAN have, Robert.
XX
Colonel Harding stood to greet one of Bunker Hill's better teachers, Major David Brown, as the latter entered his office. Harding returned Brown's salute, shook his hand, and gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"Well, David, it's always good to see you," Harding said. "I get the impression you're concerned about something. So, what can I do for you? What's on your mind?"
As Brown took his seat, he shook his head. "I never thought I'd say it, Tom, but I think the boys are losing their minds."
"As opposed to their usual rational and sane behavior?"
Brown laughed, but only for a moment. "Oh, I know. I can be so serious. The boys give me enough grief for it. What I'm talking about is this- this movement they seem to have started. It's called The Wave and from what I can tell about half the Corps of Cadets are now members, or probably are. I've seen the boys organize little unofficial and clandestine clubs before, Tom, but this is different. They're changing the way they salute each other, and they're even carrying membership cards and booklets." He pulled one out of his pocket, handed it over.
Harding frowned as he looked at the crude stapled-together booklet, noticing the three waves drawn on the front cover. A red construction paper card stuck between the pages fell out as Harding opened it.
"Philips, Brian, R.," Harding said, looking at the card. "Cadet Corporal, COC, and Trainee, SS." His eyebrows went up. "SS? As in, the Schutzstaffel? Have I got a frigging Nazi Party organizing within this school?"
"The kid clammed up when I asked about that after class. He wouldn't even tell me what The Wave was. Only reason I even have it is because Philips dropped it during class, and I picked it up before he could. He wouldn't tell me a thing, Tom. It was like he had orders, and orders he took damn seriously."
"You said they're saluting differently?"
"Yes. Like this." Brown stood up, imitated The Wave salute, and sat down again.
"I've seen that," Harding said. "So that's what that was about."
"This thing is popular. Whatever it is, it's popular. I talked to Jeremy Morgan over in Maintenance and he says somebody spray-painted his van with the three waves logo last night. He found it when he got in first thing this morning. Then he talked to me later in the morning and said he'd found the three waves image drawn onto three bathroom stall doors in Black Hall alone."
"I'm surprised I haven't heard about that."
"I'll bet Jerry got a report to your Inbox by now."
Harding picked up the stack of papers in that tray, leafed through it. "Yep, here it is. 'Estimate the value of damages to be…'" Harding shook his head, set the paper on his desk and returned the rest to the Inbox. "Something's going on around here, Dave," Harding said. "I got the feeling this isn't just another unofficial club."
"I don't think that's what it is, either."
"Thanks for coming to me about this, Dave," Harding said, looking at the report again, then the captured booklet and ID card. "I'm gonna be doing some questioning here real soon, and I'm gonna start with Cadet Corporal Philips."
"That's an excellent idea, Tom. And if you want my two cents, I'd go ahead and bring in Jack Merridew, too."
"Why do you say that?"
"He gets talked about way too much to not be involved in this. I hear his name all day, and it's usually from the boys I see giving those funny salutes."
"I'll make sure he gets called on the mat, too, then."
"Thanks, Tom."
"Sure thing, David. I'll let you know what I find out. Keep me posted if you notice anything else."
XX
Andy Wells led the Bunker Hill Military Academy wrestling team to victory in their first match of the season, and he did so without even really trying. They put him up against boys years older than him, but still they had no chance. Andy fought each boy who challenged him with all the power and might of The Wave, and he pinned them all to the mat like it was nothing. It was as easy as taking Allison away from Seth had been, as enslaving Seth had been. These weaker boys stood no chance at all.
The wrestling team whooped and screamed and hollered as their captain held his last opponent down for the count, and yelled themselves hoarse as the referee blew a whistle, indicating the time was up and Andy had won. Jumping up and raising his fists high, Andy shouted, "Strength through Unity!"
"STRENGTH THROUGH UNITY!" the boys in the stands, plus his team, shouted back.
"Strength through Discipline!"
"STRENGTH THROUGH DISCIPLINE!"
"Strength through Action!"
"STRENGTH THROUGH ACTION!"
Up there in the stands, Andy could see his slave, Seth, leading the cheers. Now completely happy as a slave, Andy's property was eagerly looking for ways to please and assist his younger brother. He had even come to Andy's room the other night and expressed his eagerness to help Andy fuck Allison when Thanksgiving break rolled around. He added that it had been "awesome" to see Andy "mate" with Allison once, even if that had been accidental.
Andy gave a smile and a wave to his slave, and unsurprisingly, the older boy went crazy, grinning and cheering as if he'd been praised by a king.
XX
As the cheering and clapping for Andy, the muscular, invincible, fearless leader of the wrestling team slowly began to subside and the team headed for the locker room, Seth noticed one of the other enslaved boys near him in the stand. Robert Elwin was looking quite dispirited. He was cheering and had chanted The Wave slogans with everyone else- non-members were banned from attending wrestling matches- but he had no heart in it. His voice and movements were weak, unenthusiastic. Elwin was a boy who was running out of hope.
His master will beat him if he sees this, Seth thought. I was punished a lot until I learned. Elwin must not have accepted what he is yet. He's a slave and slaves have to obey their masters. If he goes on like this it'll be bad for The Wave- people will see a member who doesn't mean it. And Rapper will beat him if he finds out. I better talk to him.
"Hey, Elwin," Seth said, coming up beside the other boy.
"Hey, Wells."
"You don't look so good."
"I'm fine," Elwin sighed. "Don't worry about it."
"I know what's happening to you," Seth said, lowering his voice.
"You- what- why?" Elwin yelped.
"Shh," Seth said. "Listen, I understand. I do. Let's go to my room and talk about it."
Elwin looked like he wanted to refuse, but finally his shoulders slumped a little further and he nodded.
"Okay."
XX
Robert Elwin perched nervously on the spare bed in Seth's room as the other boy closed the door and sat down across from him.
"So, like I said, I know what's been happening to you," Seth said. "I know what you're going through. Andy did the same things to me over the summer. He punished me a lot. He made me stand outside his weight room's bathroom and I pissed myself. It hurt so bad. I'd been holding it for over an hour, and he beat me for urinating without permission, and for making his weight room smell bad. Andy beat me over and over every day. He never left me alone. It was hell. But that was before I realized the truth."
"The truth?"
"Yes. Rapper is just breaking you, like Andy broke me. Slaves must be broken. You have to submit to your master's will. He owns you now." Seth held up a hand as Elwin started to object. "I wanted to fight, too. I hated it. But then I realized the truth, like I said. I realized how physically superior Andy is to me. He's such an awesome alpha male! He'd lead The Wave if Jack weren't running the pack already. Andy deserves to have me serve him. It's only right for me to be his slave."
"Did he really take your girlfriend?" Elwin asked. "I heard he did. That must have been- I don't know, man."
"I watched them fuck once."
"You what?"
"Andy had sex with Allison once, right in front of me. She came over for his birthday, they forgot to order me out of the room, and I watched the whole thing. She loved every second of it, man. Andy was amazing. He had her sweating like you wouldn't believe by the end. When he was finished, he hid her in his arms once she saw me. All in the same day I saw how much bigger he was, how much stronger he was. And I saw him fuck Allison and I realized I'm just… I'm nothing next to him. I got to see an alpha fuck his mate. It was awesome."
Seth leaned forward, his eyes bright. "I'm a slave and I deserve to be. I get to serve an alpha and I think that's the fucking coolest thing there is. Accept what you are now, Elwin. Your master will be kind only when you realize you're just property."
"But I don't wanna be!" Elwin blurted out. "I'm not a fuckin' table! I don't want to be a goddamn slave! He- he raped me!"
"He can do it anytime he wants to. He's trying to tell you that you're property."
Elwin was almost in tears. "He- I can't- I don't want to be like this!"
"It'll be better once you accept it, man. I promise. You're going through a lot, but it'll end when you stop trying to fight it."
XX
Troubled by Seth Wells' bizarre thoughts and advice, Robert Elwin avoided him over the course of the next day. He tried to avoid Rapper, too, but the dark-skinned boy figured it out and dragged him off for extra punishment. Elwin didn't have to endure another rape, but he did get whipped until his back seared with pain. And that didn't even count against the beating Rapper gave him in the basketball gym locker room after dark. It was the same as usual. Rapper made Elwin strip naked and beat and choked him, continuing the violent dominance he seemed to enjoy inflicting.
And as usual, Rapper was naked, too. He seemed to enjoy doing that, showing off his extremely powerful body while abusing Elwin's. The older boy was in excellent shape, but only by 'normal' standards, so against Rapper he was helpless. Nothing was private anymore, and Elwin was almost getting used to it. This was better than being raped, at least, and Elwin lived in perpetual terror of it, knowing Rapper could rape him again any time he chose.
When the groping and beating and strangling ended, Rapper dropped Elwin at his feet and ordered him to crawl around. Rapper amused himself by kicking Elwin periodically. Once, he kicked Elwin in the balls, and Elwin curled up, whimpering, shutting his eyes against the tears as agony rolled through him.
"Get up," Rapper ordered.
"Please," Elwin gasped.
Rapper knelt, forced Elwin's legs apart, grabbed his privates. "What did you say?"
"Please, Master."
"I should just fucking crush them. I don't want my slave breeding and passing on weak genes."
"Please don't, Master. I'll do anything, sir. Please, sir."
"Get up."
Elwin obeyed, getting carefully to his feet and standing at attention. He avoided looking Rapper in the eye, and instead stared at the floor between them.
"Go get my fucking clothes for me," Rapper said.
"Yes, Master."
Elwin walked past Rapper, went to the bench where the heavily-muscled boy had left his PT uniform, and bowed to his… owner. Yes, his owner. Rock-hard muscle decorated Rapper's frame from head to toe, and between his legs- there was no exaggerating that. Rapper was unstoppable, irresistible. He had raped Elwin and gotten away with it. He was so strong he could probably lift a car with one hand. His body was a monument to strength and power.
Against even his own conscious thoughts, Robert Elwin began to be in awe.
XX
Larry watched proudly as Brian Philips, one of The Wave's most loyal recruits, managed to complete his tenth rep at one hundred pounds on the bench press. It was a new count at that weight for him, and better still, he managed twelve, then fourteen at 95 and 90 on his second and third sets respectively. The Wave required that members work out bare-chested, the better to show off their progress or lack thereof, so Philips' skinny twelve-year-old body was coated in sweat when he finished the third set.
"That's some good fucking work, Philips!" Larry said, clapping the other boy on the back as he got up.
"Thank you, sir," Philips said humbly. "The Wave gives me strength."
"What are you without The Wave?"
"Sir," Philips recited, "I am nothing without The Wave."
"Can I try, sir?" the pale, skinny kid with the glasses and red hair said. His eyes were weak, and so was his body- for now- but the eleven year old was trying hard to make gains, and at an unusually early age. His muscles, if still small and thin, were at least growing better-defined.
"Sure," Larry said. "I'll set you at… ninety. Remember it's not about trying to act tough. Work within what your body can handle, get better at that, and then move up. Up your weight as often as you can, but don't wear yourself down trying to show off."
"Yes, sir."
"You like being in The Wave, don't you, Preston?"
"Yes, sir, I do!"
"You wanna fuck girls, don't you?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Alright, show everyone what you can do, then!"
"Yes, sir!"
The red-haired boy struggled fiercely, but was only able to do six reps at ninety. He did manage eight at 85, and then ten at 80, however, but he faltered and Larry had to catch the bar for him at the end of the second and third sets.
Then it came time for William Carr, the blond kid, to go. He was the smallest and could only do sixty pounds for his first set, but he worked hard to complete each rep smoothly. He waited through his required rest time, then went again. Despite his small size, Carr was determined. He believed in The Wave powerfully, and never questioned orders. None of this group did.
It was late in the evening, and Larry had saved his own turn on the bench-press for last. The three boys with him had struggled and fought through every exercise, but they were quickly becoming familiar, learning more every day. In just a few years, Carr, Preston, and Philips would all be teenagers, and their bodies would begin developing faster as they became adolescents. Larry couldn't wait to watch zealous young recruits like these realize their potential as they grew up, with The Wave guiding them every step of the way.
They will become whatever Jack wants them to, nothing else, Larry thought proudly. Like me.
When Larry finished his third set on the bench-press and the workout was over, he rendered The Wave salute to his three partners, who snapped to attention and saluted back. They were still very young, and their bodies were developing. But they were learning. They were definitely learning.
Larry left the room, smiling to himself, glad that he'd taken these smaller boys under his wing. They were all starting to look at Larry much the way Larry had first looked at Jack on the island.
XX
Zack Huff stood up as Larry MacDonald left the room. He was fourteen, a fit and dedicated soccer player and loyal member of The Wave, and none of it seemed to make any damn difference. He'd gone through the brutal initiation rites and training to join the SS. He'd just about killed himself on the soccer field for MacDonald. But the blond had chosen those three twerps over there for his personal workout group, and not Huff, who was unquestionably in better shape and just all around less of a dork.
I better show 'em what they really are, Huff thought. He walked casually across the weight room, over to where the three little kids were still talking excitedly about The Wave and about Larry MacDonald. They didn't notice the older boy coming up behind them until he'd reached over and snatched the redhead's glasses.
"Hey!"
"Calm down, four-eyes," Huff said. He snickered, looking at the glasses. "God, you are blind. These fucking things could stop a bullet."
"Give 'em back," a brown-haired kid, whom Huff remembered was called Brian Philips, said sternly.
"Get lost, loser," Huff said. "You little kids may be in The Wave but you don't know your place. There's a pecking order around here and you're at the bottom. None of you even have had your balls drop yet."
"You can't talk to us like that!" the smallest one, a blond, said indignantly.
"Sure I can, I'm doing it right now."
The redhead's eyes were clearly being strained without the glasses. He made a grab for them, but Huff pushed him away. He grabbed the kid's right bicep and laughed.
"Look at that, it's pathetic," Huff said. "Look at me." He demonstrated, holding up one arm and curling his bicep. "I can bench almost two hundred. You're a couple of little kids. Just run along and get Four-Eyes back to the barracks. Maybe get him a cane so he can find his way around."
Philips took a swing at Huff then, but Huff smacked him aside and planted a foot on his chest. "You just messed up, kid," he said calmly. "Now you're gonna get it."
The brown-haired youth laughed. "I don't think so, buddy."
"Oh? Why's that, 'buddy'? I'm gonna be MacDonald's new workout partner once he sees how weak you all are. And you can't stop me."
"Hey, Huff," a deeper voice said from behind him.
Oh, shit.
Huff took his foot off Philips and turned around, stared up at the awesome, powerful physique of the boy he admired, Larry MacDonald. The younger boy was flexing his huge arms in a way that made Huff's knees feel weak.
"Hey, kid," Huff said. "You can have your glasses back."
"Fuck you," the redhead said. He snatched the glasses out of Huff's hand.
"I don't like bullies in my gym," Larry said.
"MacDonald- sir- I-I-I promise, I can explain. I p-promise. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Seriously. Never."
"I know you won't," Larry said, nodding.
The next thing Huff knew, he was on his back. Larry slammed blow after blow home. Blood ran from Huff's nose, his mouth. It was a wonder he didn't lose any teeth. Larry backhanded Huff so hard that his head snapped almost ninety degrees to the left, then to the right. His vision distorted and Huff could barely think. Then Larry paused and almost thoughtfully punched him in the groin, where agony exploded and Huff went from wanting his mom to wanting to die.
After the beating went on for what seemed like eternity, Larry closed his hands around Huff's throat. Urine stained his shorts as Huff's bladder let go, and he kicked and flailed in a panic.
"Preston," Larry said distantly, as if through a tunnel. "would you like me to kill him?"
"No, sir," the redhead said. "I want him to live but be sorry. I don't want to get you in trouble."
"He's worthless."
"I bet he'll serve really good after this," the blond boy said. "I bet he'll never bully anyone."
The iron grip around Huff's neck loosened, and Huff gasped loudly for air.
"Are you sorry?" Larry asked.
"Yes," Huff said. One of his eyes had already swollen shut and there was blood all over his face. "I'm sorry."
"Hey, do any of you guys need to take a piss?"
"I do, sir," Philips said. "I drank a lot of water about twenty minutes ago, sir."
"Pull down your shorts. Actually, take 'em off. I want Huff here to see what a real man looks like."
"Yes, sir!" Philips said proudly. He obediently yanked down his PT shorts and underwear and stood naked at attention.
"Take aim," Larry said, gesturing.
"Yes, sir!"
"Fire whenever you're ready."
"Yes, sir!"
Philips snickered, waggling his penis with one hand. He moved to stand over Huff, planted his feet wide apart, and started to urinate on Huff's face as Larry removed his hands from Huff's throat.
"God!" Huff spluttered. He tried to sit up, but Larry put a foot on his chest and slammed him to the floor.
"You stay there or I'll put your fucking eyes out!"
The other two boys laughed and laughed as Philips urinated, and they high-fived their friend once he was done. As Philips put his underwear and shorts back on, Larry leaned down and looked at Huff.
"You're lucky. I'm letting you stay in the SS, for now. But soccer practice is gonna be hell for you until I decide otherwise. At least Philips was nice enough to wash the blood of your face. You should thank him."
"Th-thank you, Philips."
"You're welcome, kid," Philips said. He grabbed his own crotch. "Tell your girlfriend I'm single!"
"I doubt he has a girlfriend," Preston laughed.
"Don't you fuck with my workout buddies again, Huff," Larry warned. "Get over to the fuckin' infirmary and tell 'em you fell down some stairs or something."
"Yes, sir."
"You're lucky," the redhead commented as he turned to leave with Larry. "I almost let him kill you."
XX
Jack had just completed his one thousandth pushup in a row when Andy opened the door.
"Sir," the redhead barked, "Andy Wells reporting as ordered, sir!" He rendered The Wave salute.
"Close the fucking door," Jack said. He sighed and stood up. At least he'd managed to break a sweat this time. His mind and body both screamed for physical exercise, but really making it tough took a great deal of effort now.
"Sure," Andy said, closing the door behind him. He sat down on Jack's spare bed as the towering blond admired himself under the overhead lights, looking at the dense, hard-packed muscle that decorated his frame.
I fucking love myself, Jack thought proudly. This is what I always deserved to be.
Speaking of fucking, though…
"Andy," Jack said, "I know you got that little notebook of yours and all, but what do you think about going over to Desele's and fucking some whores again soon? I need it bad, man. And Larry, too."
"We should go soon," Andy agreed fervently. "I can't stand not getting laid, man. We better lean on the slaves some more and make sure we can come up with the money for two visits a month."
"God-fucking-damn-it!" Jack exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Over the summer, after we got back, I was getting laid every fucking day! Now all I can get is twice a month! And my man Larry, he's got needs, man! This is killing him! I need to take care of him, man, he's like my brother!"
"I'm right with you, Jack," Andy said. "I need it bad, too. I'm jerking off three times a day just to keep from going insane. But Bunker Hill isn't just some high school. We have to just live with it and do the best we can to manage the guys' needs."
"What do you think about bringing Luke and John with us?" Jack asked, sitting down on his own bed. "They've been doing some good work as recruiters and instructors. They're loyal." Jack grinned. "If we start rewarding them with the kind of whores they got over at Desele's, man, we'll own those two until the fucking end of time."
Andy considered it. "They might be able to pass for college guys," he said. "But not as easy as us. They'd be sophomores at best. We better get fake IDs for them so everyone's covered that way."
"Make it happen," Jack said, waving a heavy arm impatiently. Always a short-tempered kid, Jack was now utterly intolerant of not getting his way. "I ordered it. I want it done."
"It will," Andy promised him."
"What's the latest, Andy?" Jack asked. "I think The Wave's doing pretty good, don't you? We got all kinds of new members. They're learning fast. Every one of 'em needs to be loyal to me, Andy. Me personally. They follow my orders."
"You are The Wave, Jack," Andy said.
Jack's massive chest swelled with pride, and he gestured magnanimously to his aide and confidant. "Go on, Mr. Wells."
Opening his notebook, Andy recited the names of the thirty-five boys who had sworn in today alone. He read from progress notes on the drill and indoctrination sessions. Blind obedience to higher leadership, most of all to the infallible Jack Merridew, was being taught at all levels and to all ages. Physical fitness and selfless service to the cause was absolutely necessary. Severe punishment was being placed on the boys who missed meetings or refused orders, or said anything not in line with The Wave's platform at a rally or meeting.
Jack was pleased to hear that tying a boy's wrists to a bedpost or doorknob and whipping him with a belt in front of a group of at least twenty was proving an effective punishment. One boy, who had spoken up at a meeting and questioned Jack's infallibility, had been stripped naked and whipped for almost twenty minutes by Larry. Jimmy Edwards had learned his lesson, Andy said, and had not questioned anything about The Wave since.
"How many members we got?" Jack asked.
"Two hundred and fifty," Andy said. "More than half of the Corps of Cadets. Nobody who's in The Wave wants to hang out with anybody who isn't anymore. The Wave is 'in'. We're getting all kinds of guys. The shy kids and introverts love being included as equals. Everyone loves feeling like they're a part of something."
"Any problems with the fuckers who won't join?"
"We're getting the boys who used to be bullies to use their talents for the greater good," Andy said with a grin.
"Hey, hey, I don't want us coddling losers," Jack said. "What's so bad about bullying? Survival of the fittest, isn't that the law of the island?"
"We want the strong boys to encourage the weak to become strong," Andy said. "But we're gonna work on that. The world belongs to the strong and the brutal."
"Goddamn right it does."
"The SS now has about twenty guys in it," Andy noted. "They're setting the example for everyone else."
"How are the slaves doing?"
"Kind of like with the regular members, it's gonna take time to wipe out their old identities," Andy replied. "We have to stamp out everything that isn't The Wave. The slaves overall are obedient. They look pretty much like shit." Andy laughed. "I was bored yesterday, so I forced mine to blow me. It felt fucking amazing. You should've seen the loser when I was done. He looked miserable."
"I want them fucking destroyed," Jack said savagely. "They're not human. They're property. Make sure they understand that."
"How's yours?"
"Obedient," Jack said. "I fuck him occasionally, so he knows who owns him. I think that shouldn't just be part of the breaking process. We need to get laid, and using our slaves for shit like, you know, our needs and stuff is what they're for."
"The little ones still idolize you," Andy said. "The Lower School boys are the most loyal of all, and that's where we've done the best. We just gotta indoctrinate them more. Over and over, drill The Wave into them. We keep this up, Jack, and boys will keep joining. They're all being trained so they'll follow you anywhere."
"Perfect," Jack said, grinning. "You're as loyal to me as Roger was."
That was high praise, and Andy knew it. He stood, snapped out The Wave salute, and resumed his seat only when Jack returned it. Then he picked up his notebook again and continued his report.
XX
Sam Thompson toiled away at the foot of his 'owner's' bed, letting Patterson take a nap while his 'slave' shined his shoes and straightened up his room. Having been designated Patterson's animate property, Thompson was left completely alone by the other Hunters. They didn't bother him. Life even largely went on as normal for Thompson, though he made sure to behave appropriately downcast and subservient around Patterson when the other Hunters could see.
His friends and classmates, the whole group that had been 'selected', had been treated quite brutally. Seth Wells' mind had just snapped, and now he apparently loved being a pathetic, craven servant of his younger brother. The others weren't doing so great. Each was struggling, losing their old confidence. Jack and his inner circle were merciless, and punishments for their slaves were common. Only Seth Wells seemed to go without being punished, because he served eagerly and never made mistakes.
Patterson shifted slightly on his bed. He was stripped to the waist, clad only in a pair of PT shorts. He was the most buff guy Thompson had ever seen in his life. His entire body seemed to have been chiseled from stone. The guy apparently caught a lot of action back home, which was unsurprising. He also had come back to this room with a dazed, almost goofy smile on his face and what Thompson swore was traces of lipstick on his lips. Thompson figured that first date must have gone well, and maybe Patterson and Arianna Lovejoy had done some more "talking" in someplace private and secluded. Thompson hoped so. Those two were a great match for each other. The way they looked at each other these days… Thompson was so happy for each of them. He just hoped they could go through their courtship in peace.
Jack Merridew would have been very angry to know that Arianna Lovejoy and Robert Patterson had kissed, were becoming a couple. Jack had set his sights on Arianna years ago and alternately teased and flirted with her. Then he'd come back from the island, and the kid in Jack had been gone. His arrogance had been a hundred times worse. Now he openly propositioned Arianna constantly, not even caring that it repulsed and even scared her. Andy Wells, "Rapper", Andy MacDonald- they were all just as bad.
The brown-haired teen passed out on his bed beside Sam was different. He treated Arianna decently, regarded her highly. Arianna was going crazy about him, even if Patterson didn't yet believe it. Patterson's reluctance to pursue Arianna had intrigued her, apparently, and what a nice relief it must have been from Jack and the others! Thompson hoped that Patterson and Arianna would have lots of fun together.
No way could Arianna get treated better, Thompson thought. Patterson is a good guy. He's ripped as hell like Jack and the others, but he isn't a monster like they are. He'll treat Arianna like a princess and she'll love that.
The door opened, and Thompson caught sight of Larry MacDonald. As a slave, Thompson was supposed to keep his eyes on the ground when in the presence of a master, even one who wasn't his 'owner.' So Thompson kept shining Patterson's shoes, making sure to look like he was working especially hard.
"Hey, slave," Larry drawled, smirking at him as he shut the door behind him. "How's it going?"
"I'm shining my master's shoes, sir," Thompson said, careful to meekly lower his head.
Larry set a hand on the back of Thompson's neck. "You look like you've been broken. How'd you like getting it from a real man?"
"Sir," Thompson said nervously, still shining the shoes.
"I bet you liked it."
"Sir."
"I think you need to get whipped. Every slave needs it."
"Sir," Thompson said, trembling now.
"Larry," Patterson said, stretching and folding his hands behind his head. "I was just taking a nap here. My slave's just following orders. And he's my property, not yours. Go rape your own slave if you want."
"Jack said he wants me to check on all the slaves, make sure they're broken," Larry explained. "Yours looks okay. But you should beat him more. The second he does anything you don't like, just fucking beat the shit out of him. Make sure he knows who the master is."
"Thanks, Larry. He's got a beating coming if those shoes don't shine like mirrors, so, I think he gets it. Slaves are stupid but they learn eventually."
Larry laughed. "Yeah, that's true enough, man."
"Anything I can help you with?" Patterson asked.
"Nah, man, just looking forward to hitting the gym later today. Make sure and punish the slave if he does anything wrong."
"Yeah, me, too. I'll see you there. And don't worry, he knows his place."
"Awesome. See you, Patterson."
"See you later, man."
Larry departed, and Thompson blinked away tears, sniffling for a few moments. He'd been so scared. Larry had not only raped the boy he'd claimed as his slave, he'd come to enjoy doing it. MacDonald had once been a decent kid, but now, he was completely changed. He loved Jack Merridew and was emulating his idol's immense strength, arrogance and cruelty extremely well.
He'd rape me if Patterson let him. Christ, he was thinking about doing it just now! He wanted to rape me right here in this room!
"Don't worry about Larry," Patterson said calmly. "He knows I 'own' you and he won't touch you. Not unless I say he can, and I'm not gonna allow him to do shit."
"Thank you," Thompson said, still shaking like a leaf. "Thank you so much."
"You're welcome. Just stay calm, man. Act the way those assholes expect you to act around me. But otherwise you just live your life."
"I wanna get outta here," Thompson said suddenly. "I think these guys are just gonna get more powerful and I wanna get out of this school before it gets worse."
"Keep that quiet," Patterson cautioned him. "Maybe when you go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas, but don't say a word right now. It'll be hard to explain to your folks. And we need you on the Swim Team."
"I don't feel safe at this school anymore."
"I don't like a lot of what's going on, either," Patterson admitted. "I wish The Wave wasn't doing so well. Honestly. I think unity and commitment to a cause bigger than you is fine. This stuff is too much like what Hitler and his buddies tried."
"That's what Jack wants to be. It's written all over him. And he's getting all kinds of guys where they'll do anything he says. You can see it, a lot of those kids aren't even thinking anymore."
"Well, I am," Patterson said. "No Wave's gonna brainwash me. And no one will touch you as long as I'm here."
"If you leave, take me with you," Thompson begged. "Please. I'll be your friend forever, I'll do anything. Just- if you end up transferring to some other school, please don't leave me here!"
"Easy, man, easy," Patterson said, as Thompson started crying. "It's cool. You can talk to me anytime, okay? About anything. We'll pretend you're slaving away for me but you can talk anytime you need to. And if Larry or any of those guys bother you, you tell me. He thought I was asleep, but I heard him. He better watch himself."
"Thank you so much," Thompson said. "I'm so glad- I'm glad that if I had to get 'picked' it was by you. Thank you for protecting me."
Patterson shrugged his magnificent, thickly-muscled shoulders. "It's cool, man."
Thompson lowered his voice. "So how're things with Arianna?"
"I think she likes me. A lot. We kissed on our first real date. Man, does she like me. I dunno why."
"Dude, look at yourself."
Patterson did, mimed surprise at seeing his pecs, shoulders, abs and arms. Then he went back to lying on his bed, the picture of relaxation.
"It's gonna be okay, Thompson."
"Thank you."
"It's all good, man. No worries."
Patterson went back to his nap, and Thompson shined the leather shoes up until they were gleaming like grounded stars. Then he crawled under Patterson's bed, hiding from a school that was quickly going mad, hiding behind the one person who could protect him. Thompson was out for over an hour, and he dreamed of escape, of resistance against The Wave, and of revenge against Jack Merridew and the monsters who had raped some of his best friends and destroyed their former identities and spirits.
XX
A/N: 2-13-2019.
This chapter was written, as usual, with the assistance of AM83220, the talented writer who provided the narrated summary of the chapter's events. AM83220 and I held a detailed discussion about this story and where we intend for it to go prior to the creation of Chapter 10's narrative, and it looks like we've got a good sense of what the rest of the story will be like.
Arianna Lovejoy is borrowed from the story "Dirty Game" by CocoSushi, who gave me permission to use the character in my own work. She was featured significantly in this chapter and will continue to be for the rest of this story. She will also be an important character in the original story, "Survival of the Fittest," which I will write to completion after I am done with this one.
Any questions, comments, feel free to leave a review. I will begin work on Chapter 11 as soon as AM83220 sends me a new narrative. Those are always fun to read, but the chapters I expand them into are even better. Anyhow- thanks to any and all readers.