September 16, 1999 7:49 PM
POW! Right Kick!
POW! Left Kick!
POW!Tornado Kick!
"HuRa! HuRa! HuRa!" I shouted as I punched the bag, but soon all my HuRaing was soon becoming guttural growls and grunts. I had lost the patience to focus my energy. I was spending my energy wildly.
I was at the gym in the mall. I was in my human morph, which I named Terrence Stevens or Terry. The words of my Sensei from my Karate class a few hours ago play in my head.
"Terry! You have skill and talent, but you are letting your anger cloud your judgement. Let go of your pain."
But Jason St. John could not know the depths of my anger. How could he? How could he know that he reminded me too much of my false friend, Jason Lee.
Yeah, I know, Jason Lee? The Actor? No, of course not. But it was because of the similarity that we saw Mallrats, and the rest is history. Jason and I became View Askew nuts.
But Jason was a controller the whole time. Which I shouldn't be so surprised. The last movie I saw the actor Jason Lee in was a View Askew movie in which he played a demon.
Jason and Stephanie were my demons. Demons that maybe I couldn't escape.
I faced them alone. I faced them without the Animorphs. It wouldn't be long before I am called upon to fight the Yeerks, again. I would have to face them. Face what they knew about me.
What am I to be ashamed of? When have I ever shirked away from shame? No, it wasn't scorn I feared.
It was pity. I mean Cassie already worried about me. Aximili and Tobias too to some degree. But Jake? I wanted Jake to be cautious of me. If I can delude myself into thinking that Jake thinks I'm a threat, than I will be less likely to try and prove myself. I need his caution to control my ego. But kind of threat is the saddest, most pitiful wretch in the land?
Marco? I admit it. I like the guy. We understand each other in way. He was the first person I met here. Although we later hated each other, I don't know. I don't get the hate vibe from him. Even if he does pity me, he won't show it. Marco hates getting pity and thus he never gives it. Pity and mercy just aren't in Marco's repertoire
Rachel? That's a different story. She dislikes me. Adamantly. Which is fine, the feeling is mutual. For her to pity me would just about send me into absolute monstrous rage. To be pitied by that bitch.
I shouldn't say such things. Deep down inside, she is a good person, but her heat-of-the-battle rage is frightening. Even for me.
Ah, fuck em. Fuck em all!
POW! POW! FWAPP! Two punches and a kick later and I was back into my groove, burning out my anger with excess violence. It had become a daily thing for me.
"My, my. Aren't we energetic?" Said a voice. Feminine.
I turned around fast like I was going to be attacked. There, I saw a girl.
A very sexy girl.
HOTT! Not 'hot', mind you, HOTT! But past the knee-jerk penis reaction, her appearance deterred me for one main reason: She looked an awful lot like Rachel.
Blonde hair. Nice breasts. Icy, steel-blue eyes. Just like Rachel.
This girl had more curvy hips than Rachel, and her nose was different, and she had to be at least a year older. But damn she looked like Rachel.
She was dressed in a very form-fitting leotard. The design made me think of 10 from Batman Beyond, white on the right, black on the left. Or was it the other way around? Anyways, she had white on the right, black on the left.
She was very fine, but I was not in the mood for courting.
"What do you want?" I asked rather curtly.
"And full of attitude, too. What's the matter? Did some poor girl break your heart?" the girl said as she seductively pouted her lips and stroked my cheek.
I knocked her hand away. "What are you doing?"
The girl got some annoyed look on her face like she can't believe I just did that. "What's your name?" she asked.
"Terry McGinnis." I answered.
"The New Batman?" she asked coyly. This chick new The Bat!
"You know The Bat?" I asked incredulously.
"Shhhh! Don't tell any one." she said, again very coyly. This girl was laying it on thick. And me being me, ate it all up. "I kind of stole the costume of one of the villians." she said displaying her leotard like a runway model.
"10 of the Royal Flush Gang." I said.
"Uh-huh. I could be the Queen. After all, I am the Homecoming Queen for Sandy Hook High."
Sandy Hook is Western High's rival. She's mostly likely a senior, about seventeen-years-old.
"But something about 10 just appeals to me." the girl continued as she glided her way to me. "Young, sexy, smart." she way about a foot away from my face and putting a hand on my arm. "And not some pun-spouting moron, like the others."
"Well, he's called the Joker for a reason." I quiped.
"From one Bat-fan to another, do I look like I could be 10?"
"You're a '10' all right." I said.
"Ooh, witty too. You might just be the Batman." She said as she leaned close.
What the hell is this? What does this girl want from me? I'm in here working out and some über-sexy girl comes in and hits on me harder than a drunken prom date. This is like a every guy's fantasy.
Every guy, except me. Something had to be up. She had to have some hidden agenda.
"What do you want from me?" I asked.
"And suspicious. Definitely, Batman material."
I tested her. "Brain Parasite."
"Parasite? Never. I don't bite, unless you want me too. And as for the brain thing, don't worry, hon. I don't play mind games."
"It is my experience that she who says 'I don't play mind games' play the worst mind games of all."
She backed up and looked coyly at me. "Seems you got a mystery on your hands, Detective." She bent over slightly giving me a decent look down her leotard. She touched my face with her hand. She had soft hands. "Care to have a night to solve it?"
I should just say 'no' and run. "Ok."
We changed out of our work-out clothes (separately, much to my disappointment). And she led me to her car. I was dressed in a pair of jeans, t-shirt, and trench coat I 'borrowed' from a few of the stores. I also had on 'borrowed' Nike shoes.
The girl led me to her car. A red sports car. Big surprise. "What's your name" I asked.
"Call me . . . 10." She said coyly.
She wouldn't give me her real name. That irked me. "Whatever you say."
I got into her car. She started it up and N*SYNC came blasting out of the speakers. Figures.
"You don't say much, do you?" 10 said after about five minutes.
"Well, I don't what to say really. I'm in the car of a girl I met ten minutes ago. Said girl picked me up at a gym and then won't give me her real name or tell me where she's taking me."
"I'm taking you to a little club I like to go to." 10 said. We pulled up in the parking lot of a dance club. I came out and read the sign.
"'Club Enigma'?" I asked.
"I like it." There was a mildly long line, but 10 went straight up to the bouncer.
"It's good to see you again, Ms. Kyle." The Bouncer said as she let us in.
"Ms. Kyle?" I ask.
"Not my real name." She said. "I'm only seventeen, but Ms. Kyle is twenty-two and of legal age."
"Twenty-two?"
"I've been going here for a year."
"Ms. Kyle's first name wouldn't be Selina by any chance, would it?"
10 led me to a table and she ordered a dry martini. I asked for a Rum & Coke. Why? Who knows? Despite my recent heartbreak, I find myself being led by the balls by this aspiring Batman-villainess of a siren. I could never love someone like 10. Tobias was the one who went for crazy, sexy, supermodel versions of Genghis Khan. I was also confused. I wasn't lustful for Rachel, why did I feel so drawn to 10? There is hardly a difference from my viewpoint.
Probably because I never say 10 turn into a grizzly bear.
I actually tried talking to her. "So, you go to Sandy Hook?" I asked.
"Uh-huh" she said as she sipped her martini. Her eyes were facing away from me, scanning the dance floor. The dancers were dancing to some Techno remix of some Brittney Spears song.
"Let me guess: Cheerleader Captain? Maybe Poms or Drill Team?"
"Uh-huh." She said, not listening at all.
"Maybe you're a varsity fucker."
"What?" She said surprised, turning her attention to me.
"Who are we looking for?" I asked up front.
10 gave me a coy smile. "You dance?"
"Yeah, I'm a smooth dancer. John Travolta ain't got nothing on me." I joked.
"Let's dance."
"I was kidding, you know."
10 dragged me to the dance floor. Stephanie and Jason had taught me how to dance. Limited Success. I did a few moves. I have a good grasp of music and beats. 10 was not impressed, but she danced with me and would often do moves that made her slide across the dance floor such that I'd have to follow her. She stopped in mid-slide for some reason and then turned to me. She suddenly started dancing with me, very closely. Sure, I liked it, but even the most hormone-driven dude in the world knows when he's being used as a tool.
I turned my gaze from my newly, affectionate dance partner to the other dancers around me. Nearest to 10's gaze was a guy, obviously drunk, dancing with two women, one behind and one in front. He often stumbled on to one of the ladies. He could have been that drunk, or just pretending. Hard to tell.
10 was definitely trying to get his attention. She got impatient and basically, playfully shoved me into him.
"Hey, watch where you're going asshole!" the Drunk guy yelled at me. He turned his attention away from his two dance partners and faced me, belligerently.
He was tall. I was about 5'9 and he was 6'1, but I stood up to taller, namely Brett Taggart (6'3). In fact, this guy was a lot like Brett. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Stupider than dirt.
I was having trouble thinking of something witty to say, then 10 interceded.
"Terry! Baby, watch out. I'm going to want you in prime condition."
"Prime Condition"? "Baby"? What the fuck is she doing????
"T.J.?" the Drunkard asked 10. TJ? What kind of a name is TJ?
"Oh. Hi, Scott." She said very nonchalantly. "Well, Terry and I will be leaving now." She was a total tease.
"Hey, Matrix-boy!" Scott yelled to me. Guess he noticed the trench-coat. "I'd double-bag it if I were you. You wouldn't believe where's she's been!" He taunted. The Britney song ended and another song started. I actually recognized it. K5's "Red Alert." It was in Chasing Amy.
This was not the effect 10 was going for. Her manipulative little face contorted into a three-year-old's expression of hurt.
I could have just left it alone. I mean, since when have I ever stuck my neck out for anybody?
Fight for others. Steph didn't teach me that. Cassie did.
"Hey!" I shouted "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"I'm Scott Taggart. Captain of the Sandy Hook Football Team." Scott announced.
"Taggart?!" I repeated incredulously.
"Yeah. And I'm your worst nightmare!"
"You have no idea what my nightmares are like." I said. Scott . . Scott . . no, that was Brian, . . . wait, a minute! I know who this guy is! My memory searched for who this guy was. Taggart is not a common name, this guy had to be related to Brett.
Brett and I once got into a fight in the middle of class. The two of us were sent to the school psychiatrists. We both had to meet with her alone. She of course, wrote up files about us.
I stole Brett's file. I read it. I regret it because it made me feel sorry for him. I still hated him.
But this Scott character I couldn't give a damn about. I wanted him out of my hair. And I was pissed that 10 (or TJ or whatever her name is) used me so. Stephanie used me. Cassie used me, in a way. Know 10 was using me. Well, I'm tired of being a fucking tool!!!
"Let's go, Nightmare Boy." Scott yelled at me.
"Seen your Uncle Rudy, lately?" I said.
"What?" He asked surprised.
"It's been, what . . . . ten years? Since that night?"
Scott started to panic. "I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Must have been terrible. I can only imagine. You're trying to get to sleep. Then you hear your door open. Your Uncle walking softly, but arrogantly in the room."
"Shut up! Shut up! How the fuck . . . . who told you??" Scott yelled as he clutched his head.
"See, first he went after your cousin, Brett. But you just had to speak up. Defy him." Scott started looking at me with terrified eyes. The song had reached a feverish pitch, adding to Scott's living nightmare. "That's when it happened, didn't it, Scott? That's when he stuck it in you!"
Scott launched himself at me. I dodged. Scott ran head-first into a table. The guy sitting there decided he didn't like him and started to punch him. A bouncer came and took them both away. 10 followed him.
Figures. I checked the clock. It was 9:30. Shit! I need to demorph.. I ran into the bathroom. I demorphed. I took some water into my real hands and threw them into my real face. I looked at myself. I morphed back into 'Terry Stevens.'
"It's all fake." I said. "Everything in my life has been a fake."
I left the bathroom. I expected to find 10 gone and me abandoned. No big deal, I could fly home. Instead, I saw her sitting at the table, alone. Sulking. I sat down. She looked at me surprised.
"You used me." I said.
"What did you say to him?" She asked.
I lied. "Nothing. I made it all up."
"Well, Scott doesn't think so."
"What the hell is going on between you and him?" I asked.
10 didn't answer right away. "He's my ex-boyfriend." She said finally.
"You brought me here to make him feel jealous."
"Yeah." She admitted. "Didn't work."
"So, he dumped you?"
"Yeah. You know, I thought I was in love. I thought he loved me. Five months, we were together. I gave my cherry to him!" 10 said, very sincerely, very sadly. Very familiar. "I was just a prop to him. A decoration. You know, he only dates girls whose parents are in places of authority."
"You serious?"
"Yeah. I mean, so what my mother is chief of police. That doesn't tell anything about me. I mean, I could be a law breaker." She said. She held up her glass. "Oh, yeah. I am."
"I kind of know what you mean. I mean, I thought I was in love once." I said. "But she was only with me because my father was an army general."
10 made many gestures in agreement. "You see? What's up with people like that? I mean, ah! You know he already has a new girlfriend? A principal's daughter. I mean really. Chief of Police . . . Principal. Chief of Police . . . Principal." 10 made balance gestures with her hands. "I mean is that really a step up? I guess, I'm just undesirable, or something."
Now, I mean any idiot can see that this is a line. I knew it was a line. Was I really going to take the bait of a Rachel Clone?
But . . . well, . . . it's just that . . . well, thing was . . . . She was hurt. I mean, the person she loved was not who she thought he was, and she found out that he never really loved her. He was a liar just out for his own gain, and she lied, cheated, and manipulated other people to get what she wanted: revenge.
I guess, at that moment I found a kindred spirit in that girl known to me simply as 10.
"You're not undesirable. You're a beautiful, intelligent women. And any guy would be lucky to spend a few hours with you. Even if you were using him."
She smiled. "I'm sorry about that."
"That's ok. I had a nice time. Ever since said break-up, I don't get out much."
"Let's go home." She said.
"I don't know if I want to tell you where I live."
"No," she said, grabbing my arm. Such soft hands. "My home."
I woke up, and realizing where I was, I panicked. I looked to the left. 10 was still sleeping. Good. After a very energetic night, I had to stay up until 10 fell asleep. Then I demorphed and slept. Now that I'm awake and 10 still sleeping, I morphed back to Terry Stevens. It would be quite a mess if 10 woke up next to a different guy than who she went to bed with the night before. I was awake, and I was Terry. Not wanting to waste any time I lightly kissed 10 on the lips. She woke up.
"Hi." She said. "What time is it?"
"Um, about 9:00."
"Oh, shit!" she said as she jumped out of bed. "You have to get out of here. My parents will be back from their conference, and I'm already late for school!"
"You have a half-day today. By the time you get there, it'll be 10. You get out at 12, why bother?"
"Terry? Please?" She pleaded.
I got dressed, and 10 quickly ushered me toward the door.
"Terry, I mean, I had a nice time last night, but I don't think . . ." 10 started to say.
I stopped her. "I understand. I mean, last night was very . . . therapeutic, but I'm definitely not ready to rush into anything."
"Yeah." She said, laughing. "Me either. But, you know, if you need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to give me a call."
I probably wouldn't. "No problem." I said.
10 started to close the door. I stopped it. "Hey, what's your real name, anyway?"
She bit her lip. "Taylor." She said finally. "Taylor Jane Perkins."
