CHAPTER 5

WE'RE RUNNING IN CIRCLES AGAIN

"Seriously?", Kevin said.

I nodded, staring out the window as the trees and houses went by. Kevin had been driving me to school regularly these days. It gave me some extra time in the mornings, and gave him a chance to play the concerned big brother.

"Why would she text you to take back a kiss?", he asked

"I wish I knew! I sent her texts yesterday to ask, but she never returned any of them. We had a great time, I didn't think I did anything wrong but…," I threw up my hands in frustration. "I don't know. What do you think?"

"Uh…," Kevin laughed nervously. "Ronnie, I'd like to help, but I'm not really the guy you want to talk to about women..."

"Well, we're all human, aren't we? Same hearts, same minds... what would you do if a dude who seemed to be into you acted like this?"

"Well, uhh…," he thought for a moment. "I would say that, after the kiss, she must have had second thoughts."

"But why?"

"I don't know, Aaron! It could be a lot of things. Maybe she thought she moved too fast, maybe somebody- like family or something- got in her ear about it, maybe she just didn't… I don't know, all right!"

I scoffed and turned back toward the scenery. Kevin continued driving. Houses rolled by in silence.

"Listen, Aaron," Kevin said eventually. "You're not stupid. You know that if you really want to know what's on Eve's mind, I'm not the person you should be asking."

I sighed. "I know."

Kevin chuckled sardonically. "But you don't want to do it, do you? Because you're afraid you won't like what she says."

I didn't tell him he was right.

"Well, it's natural to be afraid when rejection's on the line. Rejection is painful, after all," Kevin said. "But as a gay man, I can tell you this: one thing a relationship requires is courage. Courage to put yourself out there and let yourself get hurt. Courage to stay there when it's not so great. Courage to try new things together, and sometimes to give up old ones for the greater good. Courage to deal with people who will try to make drama over it. Courage to share in her pain, to stand by her, and sometimes, if it's for the best, courage to walk away. Love is not an easy business, and if you're going to stick with it, you have to be brave."

"Kevin, it's easy to say that, but what if..."

"Yeah, yeah," Kevin interrupted. "What if, what if, what if. You never know if you don't try. Why don't you be honest with me, Aaron? You're not afraid of her telling you something awful. What you're afraid of is that it'll be completely out of your hands."

I grit my teeth and managed to resist the urge to hit the dashboard hard enough to get punched in the face by the passenger-side airbag. "Everything's always out of my hands. Dad, Mom, and now this..."

"It is in your hands, Aaron," Kevin interrupted. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. This is the choice you've got: to take the plunge and find out what you're dealing with, or to wuss out and always wonder whether you gave up on something incredible because you were too scared."

Put that way, it did seem kind of dumb for me to be mooning about. After all, asking was a possible loss, but not asking was a certain loss. Of course, like Kevin said, I wasn't stupid. I already knew all of what he was telling me. But sometimes you need to hear it from someone else before it clicks, and what else are big brothers for?

"So what are you going to do, bro?", Kevin asked.

I sighed, surrendering to the inevitable. "I guess I'm going to talk to Eve in French class."

I didn't get a chance to talk to Eve in French class. For the first time ever, she was late to French. When she walked in, Ms. Bissette was already talking away. She stopped and glared at Eve- she hated interruptions- then made a mark in the attendance book and continued with the lesson. I made eye contact with Eve. She waved and forced a smile, then had to sit down and get right to work. At the end of class she gathered her things and left before I could say anything.

I followed her, but when she saw she picked up her pace. I matched her speed and called out to her, but she only moved faster. I thought we might be heading for a straight-out footchase, but then Eve took a corner too fast and barreled right into Roxy.

The force of the impact knocked them both to the ground, scattering their books on the floor. Roxy landed hard on her rear.

"Ah! Dammit, watch where you're going, you little shit!", Roxy yelled.

"Sorry," Eve said, grabbing at her books.

"'Sorry?', is that all you've got to say, freak?!" Roxy had been walking with two friends- Becca and Missy, I think their names were- who helped her to her feet. She rubbed her bruised ass as her friends, unasked, collected Roxy's books from the floor. "Look at this!" Roxy added, picking up a lollipop from the floor. Dust bunnies clung to it. "Ruined! Why were you running in the halls anyway, twerp?"

Eve got to her feet, books in hand. "It was an accident, okay? Look, I said I was sorry. Don't be a dick about it."

"Accident, my ass!", Roxy yelled. "You shoved me!"

"I didn't!", Eve protested.

"Oh, yes you did! Didn't she, girls?", Roxy asked smugly.

"She did," said Missy.

"I clearly saw a one-handed shove," Becca added.

Roxy smiled. "You see, you were clearly trying to start something."

Eve sneered. "Oh, fuck off, Roxy!"

"You don't tell me to fuck off, you little..." Roxy advanced on Eve, but the possibility of a cat fight was cut off when I managed to slip between them.

"Leave her alone, Roxy," I said. "It was obviously an accident."

Roxy scoffed. "I got two witnesses says it wasn't."

"Yeah," I noted, "and I've got an entire hallway full of witnesses says you wouldn't let it go."

Roxy looked around and noticed that there did, indeed, seem to be a lot of rubberneckers in the hallway. Some of whom were rather eager to see this situation get worse. I saw cellphones out to record and a few guys smiling. After all, if a scuffle ensued, the possibility of Roxy getting her top torn was strong. Well, greater than zero, anyway.

Roxy scoffed and turned her ire on me. "What do you care, dweeb? Is she your girlfriend now?"

The question threw me. "Uhh…," I said, and that was all the opening Roxy needed.

"I have to say, Aaron, I'm disappointed. You're kinda cute, in that brooding loser kind of way. You'd think you could do better than this… thing."

I knew what Roxy was doing. An argument like this wasn't an argument, but a street fight in disguise. It didn't matter if the things said were true, as long as they were hurtful. Getting drawn in was a mistake. Everything you tried to say would either be riposted or turned against you. It's like that saying about arguing with idiots on the internet: they drag you down to their level, then they beat you with experience. But whether you know this or not, you could still get drawn in if the person you were up against knew how to make your blood boil.

"Eve is not a thing," I said.

Roxy scoffed. "Please. Look at her. She must be an alien, because no real person could be that ugly!"

"She's like a scarecrow!", Becca said, laughing.

"A half-stuffed scarecrow!", Missy added.

"Why do you think she's always covering herself up like that?", Roxy asked. "And why is she always in and out of the locker room before everybody else? It's because she can't bear to let anybody see how ugly she is!"

Missy and Becca laughed. I looked behind me, and saw that Eve was clearly being affected by their jeers.

"Or hey, maybe it's because she doesn't want us to see the cuts?", Missy offered.

"I bet she does cut herself, the little weirdo", Becca added.

"And what's with the blue hair, anyway? Only dykes dye their hair like that." Roxy added.

"If she's a dyke, why is she with Aaron?", Missy said.

"Maybe she's a loser dyke. A loser dyke and a loser guy, makes perfect sense," Becca added.

"Maybe you need some bi loser to share," Roxy concluded. "You can make ugly people porn together!"

All three of them laughed. It was difficult, but I tamped my anger down. Sticks and stones, just like Mom had always taught me. I shook my head and turned away from these clowns, towards Eve. Her hood was pulled closer than I'd ever seen it, hiding her entire face above her mouth. Her lips trembled. "Come on," I said, "Let's go."

I reached for Eve, but she swatted my hand away and stormed off, moving as far and as fast away from those laughing hyenas as she could.

I turned back to Roxy and her little clique. "Oh, I'm so sorry if I killed your game, perv," she taunted me. "Here, you want another lollipop to even us out?" She held out the dusty, dirty candy to me.

I didn't take it. Didn't say anything. Barely moved. I just stood there, staring at Roxy. Fury molded my gaze into a diamond-tipped drill that bored into Roxy's skull. I must have hit pay dirt, because after a few seconds the laughter ceased. Roxy and company looked back at me with timid, almost fearful expressions.

"Why do you have to treat Eve like that?", I asked softly.

Roxy was thrown for a minute, then recovered with a dismissive snort. "Because she's a loser, duh."

"So what? What do you gain from making her feel like shit?"

Roxy sneered. "What does she get from always going around acting like she's better than everybody? Never talks to anybody, just sits around spying and eavesdropping and drawing freaky death scenes or whatever."

"Why should she talk to you, if every time she does she gets insulted?"

Roxy waved her hand dismissively. "Fuck off, loser. I don't have to explain myself to you, and I don't have to be friends with your loser girlfriend. In fact, you know what? I don't have to be talking with you right now, either. Come on girls, let's go."

The three of them walked off, leaving me seething there in the halls. I wasn't sure if I hated or pitied Roxy more. So much effort she put into making people feel bad, and for what? Sure, she had people fawning at her feet now, but admiration fades over time. Grudges last, and if she kept up with this she'd wind up with no friends and enemies everywhere. Graduation might hit the reset button on her life, but she'd still face the same problem wherever she landed post-high school. But I wasn't sympathetic. Roxy's karmic backlog was her problem. Mine, right now, was getting to English class before the bell.

It didn't take a genius to see Eve was avoiding me. But apparently she had a change of heart, because midway through English class my phone buzzed. I sneaked it out of my pocket and turned it just enough to read the text on the screen: "If you want to talk, meet me in the auditorium at lunchtime."

The auditorium was nearly always empty when there wasn't an assembly going on, and when I walked in Eve was seemingly nowhere to be found. It wasn't until she called to me that I saw her, sitting in the back row of seats, feet up on the headrest of the row below. Her backpack sat in the adjacent seat. The wall hid her from view of anybody near the doors. She gestured for me to come over, and I took the seat next to her, leaving my own backpack in the seat to my left. Our own little backpack-fort in the middle of the auditorium. "Good afternoon," I said. "what're you doing here?"

"Hanging out. Nobody's ever here. Good place to come if you want to break the law."

"Uh… break the law…?", I asked.

She held up a lit joint that she had been hiding somewhere. "Want some?", she asked with a conspiratory grin.

"Uh, no thanks, and you shouldn't be either."

She took a quick hit. "Why, you gonna nark on me?"

"I dunno, you gonna peer-pressure me?"

She snickered.

"Seriously, Eve, I don't have a problem with it, but the reason nobody ever hangs out here is because it's on Annie's checklist. She shows up randomly hoping to catch people doing just what you're doing. If she sees, or smells anything..."

Eve tilted her head back and groaned. "Oh my God, Aaron, you sound just like Grace. It'll be fine. I can stow a joint in a second, if I need to."

"Where, exactly?"

"In my panties. Nobody ever checks there."

I raised an eyebrow. "So, in addition to being slightly illegal, there's also a possibility that joint tastes like ass."

"Girl-ass, yeah. Sure you don't want some?"

"Joint, or ass?" I said, with a grin.

For a second, Eve smiled, but the smile faded quickly, wiped off her face like raindrops by windshield wipers.

I quickly changed the subject. "Where'd you get that, anyway? I thought you couldn't afford one?"

"Borrowed it from Grace."

I gave her a doubtful look. "Borrowed it from someone who didn't want you having it?"

Eve sighed. "Stole, actually. Grace is such a hypocrite! She lights up three times a week to unwind after work, but she makes me be all goody-two-shoes. Like I'm too dumb to keep out of trouble."

"I'd think robbing your roommate's stash is going to mean trouble regardless."

"She won't miss it. It's schlag."

"I'm sorry?", I asked quizzically.

"Schlag. Dirtbud. Weed so low-quality, you have to smoke a dozen of these just to get a little high." She took a long drag, as if to emphasize how worthless it was.

"So, all of the risks of smoking it, but none of the benefits?", I noted.

"Pretty much."

"Why bother, then?"

Eve stared up at the ceiling, seeming to consider the question. "Maybe because it makes me feel free. Like people can't tell me no. Like I'm allowed to be who I want to be."

A moment passed in silence before I spoke. "Eve… about the other night..."

She winced as if the incomplete question caused her pain. "Aaron…" The sentence hang in the air unfinished. She bit her lip, thinking. Took her feet off the chair in front and sat up. Instinct brought her hand to her hood, but after a moment's hesitation, she lowered her hand and turned to look me in the eye. "Aaron, you're a good man. You're sweet, and funny, and I value your friendship. And the other night, it felt good to pretend, just for a moment, that we could be something more. But..." she shook her head, eyes shut tightly in sorrow and frustration. "But we can't. I can't. There's… there's stuff wrong with me, Aaron. Stuff that I can't change. I'm sorry, I really am, but friendship is as far as I can go."

"What is it?", I asked, as gently as I could.

She turned aside from me and shook her head no. "It means a lot that you care, Aaron, but it would…" she bit her lip, uncertain how to continue. "You just don't need to deal with it. It's better this way. I'm sorry."

I considered a minute before raising it. It might do more harm than good. Be brave, I thought. Just like Kevin said. "Is it something to do with those pills in your medicine cabinet?"

Eve opened her mouth as if to say something, but couldn't bring herself to answer, nor to meet my gaze. So I put it to her directly.

"Are you dying?", I asked.

Eve's reaction was instant. Her gaze snapped back to me, eyes wide in astonishment. "What?!"

"Is that what they're for? Do you have some hideous disease that's killing you slowly?"

Her mouth hung open for a second. Then it snapped shut. In quick succession, she sputtered, her cheeks inflated like a balloon, a smile creased her mouth, and then the balloon ripped open and she bust out laughing. She fell back in her seat from laughing so hard. Slid down in it until she was struggling not to fall on the floor. She laughed and laughed and laughed. I watched incredulous. And a little pissed too, if I'm being honest.

"It's not funny!", I protested.

And of course this only made Eve laugh even harder. She laughed so much she teared up. It was at least a minute before she was able to compose herself enough to sit upright again and wipe the moisture out of her eyes. "Aaron, you're really something else," she told me. "You can always cheer me up, even when you're not even trying. No, it's nothing like that, and I'm sorry if I misled you. But it is something that I have to deal with on my own. And I need you to let me."

I hung my head and sighed. "Well… if that's really what you want, then..."

A terrifyingly familiar voice rung out from behind me. "This room is off-limits!"

I whirled around. (Fucking) Annie stood in the aisle with arms crossed, glaring at us. Fortunately, me and my backpack gave Eve had enough cover to stash the joint before Annie noticed.

"Jesus, Annie!" I retorted. "Are you trying to give us heart att-"

"No backtalk!" the tyrannical hall monitor barked. "The school rulebook clearly states that the auditorium is to be kept clear except when in official use! I won't have..."

"Alright, alright, we're leaving!" I yelled. We both took our backpacks and got up from our seats. "God, Annie, what is your problem?!"

"Today?," Annie said, pulling out her notepad. "Let me go down the list: Trespassing in restricted areas of the school, eating outside approved lunch areas…,"

"We weren't eating!", I protested.

"Arguing with a representative of the administration, insulting a fellow student…,"

Eve was making disinterested "Yakkity-yak" gestures.

"Oh, yes," Annie said, grinning like a slasher. "And violation of the new school dress code."

I gave her a confused look. "Dress code? We don't have a dress code!"

"Not officially, no, but I've submitted a few suggestions to the administration, and I expect them to be coming back with approval shortly," said Annie smugly. "Among other things like visible non-ear piercings and excessive bare skin, hair dye in non-natural colors is now prohibited."

"What?!" I yelled.

"That's bullshit!", Eve added, grasping protectively at the tips of her hair.

"I'll add 'foul language' to the list, then," Annie said.

"No, Eve is right, it's B.S.!", I said. "Eve is the only person in school who dyes her hair, you're targeting her specifically!"

"This is profiling!" Eve protested. I wasn't sure if that was the right word, but never mind that.

"Well, if you're going to dress like a delinquent, then expect to be treated like one," Annie said smugly.

Eve grit her teeth. "You rotten..." She tried to push past me to get at Annie, but I stopped her.

"Eve, calm down," I told her. "She's just trying to get you angry."

"She's doing a good job of that!" Eve barked.

"Oh, violence now?", Annie said with crossed arms. "I'm sure the administration would just love to hear about your latest offense."

"You're an offense, you childish little brat!", Eve yelled.

Annie's eyes widened. The lame comeback normally wouldn't be worth mentioning, but Annie was very insecure about her height. Calling her childish or 'little' was a sure way to send her berserk. "What did you… just say…?", she said menacingly.

"Ease up, Eve," I said, "this is just what she wants. Come on, let's go." Eve pursed her lips tightly, but saw reason and turned on her heel. I followed her to the opposite aisle.

Too late to put out the fire, though. "What did you call me?!" Annie bellowed. Eve responded by throwing a middle finger over her shoulder as we clambered away through the cramped row of seats.

"Oh, don't you walk away now, you blue-haired thug!", Annie yelled. "Nobody talks to me like that! Get back here!"

She was gaining on us, propelled by a rage that was only ever born of unchecked egotism. I took a pen out of my pocket, pulled the cap off with my teeth, dropped the pen on the floor just in front of me, and stepped over it without breaking my stride. It was a very lame trick- it worked maybe one out of twenty times- but either karma or dumb luck was on my side. In the process of pursuing us, Annie stepped on the pen and it rolled across the floor, taking her foot with it. She lost balance and fell backwards, landing sprawled between the rows of seats on her behind. Eve turned, hearing Annie's yelp of surprise, and laughed a wicked witch's cackle at her hated foe's misfortune. I prodded Eve onward. "Come on, let's go, let's go!" Annie would be up in a second, and mad.

"That's it!", Annie yelled, almost incoherent with rage. "I will see you both in detention after school today! This behavior will not be tolerated! Don't make me..."

And so on. We ignored Annie's ranting and walked fast to the auditorium door, and past that to the nearest door to the schoolyard. Out in the fresh air, we slowed our pace. Eve was still livid. "Can you believe her?! Going after me for my hair?!"

"Fucking Annie, right? Maybe you should shave yourself bald to spite her?", I suggested.

Eve glared daggers at me. Fiery poisoned daggers.

"Sorry," I said. "Not my best material. But hey, don't be worried. Annie makes so many recommendations that the principal's stopped listening to them. I doubt this one's going to go anywhere."

"Probably not, but…," she threw her hands up in frustration. "Why me?"

"It's not you, Annie's an asshole to everybody. You just happened to be in range this time. Next time it'll be someone else."

Eve started to walk away. "But it's not just her," she spread her arms wide to encompass the entire campus. "Everybody at this school hates my guts!"

I shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. They're all assholes, maybe. Look on the bright side: a few more months, we'll be out of here."

Eve sighed. "Yeah. Wish I could be out of here now." She slumped against the yellow-brick wall of the school building and stared up at the sky. Her backpack dangled heavily from her hand, like she'd very much like to just drop it and walk off without a care. It was a clear day, just a few clouds hanging around, and the sky was bright blue, almost as if it was staring back at Eve with eyes just as blue as her own.

I knew what Eve was saying. Everybody I knew said the same thing on a bad day, and me too. High school was drama, and drama is fun at any time and place that you aren't. As a kid, you look forward to high school, and as an adult you look back on it nostalgically. It's easy to forget that when you're there, you'd rather be anywhere else. So we stare into the sky and dream of a future where we can put all this bullshit behind us.

"Have you eaten?", I asked.

Eve shook her head no. "I don't need half your sandwich again, thanks."

"Then you can pay me back instead. Let's hit the pizza place for a couple slices." There was a small pizzeria a block or so from the school. Nice place to drop in whenever you wanted something more substantial than cafeteria slop.

Eve shook her head again. "There'll just be assholes there, too."

"Yeah, maybe, but they might be better behaved. Besides, Annie might still be looking for us, best to hide off-campus until the end of lunch."

Eve looked at me briefly, then down at her feet with a small smile. "Well… I suppose I do still owe you. All right, let's go."

She hefted her backpack up on her shoulder. We walked across the parking lot, staying close to the wall so that nobody ran us over on their way out for lunch. But no sooner had we taken five steps than a horn sounded behind us. Tyrone's big Jeep pulled up alongside us.

"Hey, Blue!", Tyrone said. "Got a little present for you!" He jerked his thumb at the rear drivers-side window, where Chad leaned out from the waist up. He was holding a jumbo-sized super soaker water gun.

"Say hello to my little friend!", Chad said.

Because of course he would use that quote.

Chad pulled the trigger and hosed Eve down. That guns were powerful; before I could even react, Eve was soaked practically head to toe. Chad bust out laughing. Tyrone joined in, as did Chico, barely visible in the rear seat beside Chad. Eve stood there, mouth gaping and clothes dripping. She was not amused. I wasn't either.

"What the hell, Chad?!", I yelled.

In response, Chad took a shot at me. This shot was weaker- you have to pump between shots to keep a good stream- but still left me with a line of wetness from my collar down. The morons laughed again.

"Hey man, it's a hot day, just thought you might like to cool off some!", Tyrone quipped.

"Yeah, want some more?", Chad asked, pumping the gun. "Open wide, baby Blue, maybe you can get a buzz off of the next one!"

Buzz?, I thought. Then I noticed an unexpected smell in the air. I sniffed my shirt to be sure. "This isn't water!", I said.

Eve had come to the same conclusion. "Beer?! You hosed me down with beer?!"

Tyrone abruptly stopped laughing.

"Hell yeah, baby!" said Chad. "You said you wanted to drown in a forty, well there you go!" He stopped pumping and leveled the gun. "Sure you ain't thirsty for-"

Chad was interrupted by Tyrone leaning out of his own window to smack him across the back of the head. "You dumbass! You hosed them with beer?!"

"What the hell, man!", Chad protested. "I thought..."

"We're on school grounds, moron!" Tyrone yelled. "What if someone sees?! Get back in the car!"

Without waiting for Chad to comply, Tyrone floored the gas and peeled out. Chad lost his footing and flailed trying not to fall out of the car entirely, until Chico grabbed him by the band of his pants and awkwardly pulled Chad back in. The car made a hard right out of the lot and was gone.

"Crash and die, assholes!", Eve yelled after them.

I wasn't exactly cool-headed myself. The sour scent of cheap beer assaulted my nostrils. "Fucking hell, this is a new low!", I said. "We ought to tell someone!"

Eve gave me a glaring look of disappointment. "Who? Annie?"

She had a point. We were soaked in alcohol and smelled like a brewery. Annie would just assume we had been drinking ourselves and haul us into the principal- that was shit the administration couldn't just dismiss as Fucking Annie. Telling a teacher would probably have the same result. At a quick look around the area, I saw no witnesses to back us up. Those pricks were going to get away with it.

I sighed. "Eve, I owe you an apology."

She looked at me confusedly.

"I was wrong before. This is not a good afternoon."

Eve smiled slightly. Then, either laughing or crying- it was hard to tell which- she more or less fell into my chest and hugged me. Caught off guard, I had only just brought my arms up to return the hug when she pushed away from me.

"Sorry, sorry...", she said. "I'm getting beer stank all over you. God, what a mess." She wiped her face with her sleeves. Eve's treasured cat-ear hoodie- the one she wore so often it was practically trademarked- was soaked through and ruined. Possibly for good.

"Let's go," I said. "We should get off-campus before somebody finds us smelling like this."

"Yeah, good idea..." Eve said. "Let's go to my place, we can wash these clothes there."

"We'll miss lunch and the next class just getting there and back. Let's go to mine instead, it's closer," I suggested.

"Isn't your Mom home?"

I waved my hand dismissively. "She won't give a shit. She doesn't give a shit about anything these days."

"She might give a shit if you show up smelling like beer."

"From what you've told me, Grace will give a lot more shit, and most of that shit you'll get."

"I know, but… look, I'll just be a lot more comfortable doing it at my place. Besides, we won't get any shit if we can sneak in without anyone knowing."

It turned out that this wasn't Eve's first time sneaking back home in the middle of a school day, and she knew what she was doing. I never seen someone open and close a creaking old garage door so quietly. Upstairs in the bathroom, there was a box-like rectangular device about as tall as the sink. I'd noticed it when I was in here before, but didn't pay much attention to it. Turns out, it was a compact washing machine that had room for both our clothes. Apparently, Odette had bought it as an apology gift after ruining three of Grace's shirts, three pairs of pants, four undies, one skirt, two bras, and a hair scrunchy all during a single house party. (I never got the full story on that, beyond Odette being a very sloppy drunk.)

Eve didn't want to be seen in her underwear, so it took us a while to work logistics. Eve undressed in the bathroom. I stripped to my socks and briefs in Eve's room, then passed my clothes through the bathroom door, which Eve then closed from inside. "How long will this take?" I asked.

"A quick load takes about twenty minutes." Eve called from inside. "They'll be a little damp, but just wear them outside for a bit and they'll dry right off."

The contents of my pockets were sitting in a pile nearby. I took my phone and checked it. "Lunchtime just ended at school," I said.

Eve made a dismissive sound. "Forget that. I'm just going to hide out here for the rest of the day. My daily drama quota has been exceeded twice over."

"What if Grace finds you?"

"She won't; once the shop opens, she's downstairs for the rest of the day. Unless she or Odette wants to eat lunch or dinner out of the fridge, and that's rare. Three fifteen, I'll sneak down, pretend like I'm just getting in, say hi, come right back up, and she'll never be the wiser."

"Alright, then." After a pause, I added: "Will your hoodie be okay?"

She laughed. "I've worn it every day since I got it. This isn't the first time I've had to wash something nasty out of it." From inside I heard the sound of a washer firing up.

"Still and all," I said. "It pisses me off that those clowns are going to get away with it." I made a fist and smacked my palm. "Wish we could get even somehow."

"Like how, beat them up?" Eve asked skeptically.

"Not like that, just… ah, forget it," I said. "You really like that hoodie, don't you?", I asked.

"Yeah. It was a gift from Grace on my 18th birthday. It meant a lot to me. Mom and Dad didn't like it, on account of the ears."

"What's wrong with the ears?", I asked.

"Oh... they... thought it meant… I dunno, code for 'pussy', or something. Like I was a degenerate woman."

"Not big anime fans?"

"Not big fans of anything I did."

"Sorry to hear that," I said sympathetically.

"Wish I couldn't say it," a sigh. "I'm sorry, you don't want to hear me bitching about them..."

"No apologies," I cut in. "Say whatever you want. Or say nothing, if you want. I'll always be there to listen."

Eve snickered. "You might end up regretting those words someday."

"Never," I said resolutely. "I enjoy the musical sound of your voice."

She said nothing, but if I knew her as well as I thought I did, she was smiling. Maybe blushing a little.

For a moment there was silence. I brought up the news on my phone and went looking for tragedies that made some dirty clothes look insignificant.

"Say, Aaron," Eve said, "as long as you're out there, can you do me a favor?"

"Whatcha need?", I asked.

"Take down a few of those sketches; I'll need the clothesline to dry my clothes."

I raised an eyebrow. "No drier?"

"We're old-school around here. Saves money. Put the sketches on my desk."

I did as she said. Most of them I'd seen last time, but among them I noticed a new one. It was a colored pencil anime-style sketch of a blue-haired woman. She wore a lavender halter top with matching leggings, plus a black leather jacket and boots. In her right hand was a hi-tech pistol, which she pointed at something just over the viewer's shoulder. She looked familiar.

"Hey, Eve…," I said.

"Yeah?", came her voice from the other side of the door.

"What's this new one? Looks like The Major from Ghost in the Shell," I noted.

"It does, yeah. What do you think of it?"

"It's good," I said. "You really captured her. Except…"

Beyond the bathroom door, Eve was silent, waiting patiently for me to finish.

"Well, her hair…" I said. "It's supposed to be a dark purple, probably black if you want a more realistic version. This blue is…" I stopped. Took another look at the drawing's face. Tilted my head to the side. "Is this a self-portrait?"

"Yep!", she said in a sprightly tone.

Now that I took a closer look, it wasn't The Major at all, though that was clearly an inspiration. The Major didn't wear leggings or black boots. Eve's character also had some accessories that didn't match: a technological device of unclear purpose behind her ear, fingerless gloves, and wires running from ports on her left shoulder twined around her arm down to the wrist. Her bust and hips were a little too big for Eve, but it was still awesome.

"It's cool", I said. "Cyberpunk Eve. Badass."

She giggled. "Thanks, I'm glad you like it." She sighed. "I did it for Ms. Ross, but I don't think I'll turn it in. She'll probably reject it the same as all the others."

"Is that your extra credit project for her? A self-portrait?"

"Yeah, but she's all crazy about it. She said I could do something fantastic or abstract, but everything I bring her, she tells me the same thing: 'It's who you want to be, not who you are.'"

I raised an eyebrow. "How does she know who you are better than you yourself?"

"I know! Where does she get off?! I mean, okay, she's a teacher, I'm a student, but don't tell an artist how to art, goddammit!"

I shook my head. "Yeah, I know." I piled the sketches on the desk, as requested, then I sat back down next to the bathroom door. "People are like that," I opined. "When you're young, adults are always saying you you can be anything you want to, but when you get older and decide you want to be something they can't accept, suddenly you're the one that doesn't know themselves. When Kevin came out to his parents, it was a long time before they were able to accept it. They actually told him to try being bi, so that they could still have grandkids."

"Seriously?!", Eve said, incredulous.

"Yeah, he didn't take it well," I laughed. "They came around eventually, but… I dunno, I guess after changing somebody's diapers and tying their shoes, parents get used to their kids not being able to get by without their help. It's the same for everybody; when we're 40, we'll probably still be hearing older people bitch about how they could live our lives better than us."

"Of course, by then we might be changing their diapers," Eve noted.

I laughed. Silence, again.

"Aaron," Eve asked, suddenly serious, "do you think I'm fake?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Am I pretending to be something I'm not?"

I scoffed. "Eve, come on. You're the most real girl I know. Nobody tells you what to do, to think, or to be. Or if they do, you don't listen."

"Yeah, but…," she hesitated. "but, what if that isn't what I'm meant to be?"

"Nobody's 'meant' to be anything, Eve. We are what we decide to be. If you want to draw yourself as a badass woman, you should. If you want to try and be that woman, you can. You should be allowed to be whatever and whoever you're happy being. If someone else has a problem with it, tough for them."

"But... what if everybody hates me for it?", Eve asked. "What if you hate me?"

"Eve, I could never hate you. I'd be more unhappy if you tried to be someone you're not just because of me. Then you'd be fake and miserable about it, and I'd..."

An unhealthy mechanical grinding was heard from the bathroom. It quickly stopped. "Sorry," Eve said. "This thing starts acting up sometimes. Can we finish this conversation later? I should wash the beer out of my hair."

"'Sokay," I said. "Let me know when it's done."

I sat there in silence for a while, listening to the dull whirring of the washer and the water running in the bathtub. Suddenly I jumped as a blast of loud metal music erupted from the main room. The door between the rooms was mostly closed. Approaching carefully, I peered through the crack and beheld a jaw-dropping site. Odette was dancing in the middle of the floor, alternately munching on and singing into a leftover eggroll from our chinese feast two days earlier. That wasn't what dropped my jaw. What dropped my jaw was the fact that she was wearing nothing except panties and stockings.

I am not normally a voyeur, but given the body Odette had, it was difficult not to look away. She was curved in all the right places- hips, butt, thighs, and massive tits that somehow didn't sag a bit. She was like a walking wet dream. Like Roxy done right. She headbanged hard enough to whip her raven-black hair back and forth in waves, then moshed along to the song in the middle of the floor. Her tits bounced. And bounced. And bounced some more. My underwear was suddenly very, very tight, but I couldn't look away. It got worse when a bridge came on and she leaned forward towards the music and started licking the eggroll like she was preparing to fellate it. 'Oh, man,' I thought, 'I really gotta look away or things are going to get really awkward when Eve comes out of that bathroom.'

I didn't look away. I have no excuse; blame it on my youth.

Then Odette's gaze swung past the doorway. Seconds later, she did a double-take. 'Shit!' I thought, ducking quickly out of sight. Had she seen me? There was no immediate sign, but if she had, Eve would have to explain having a nearly-naked boy in her room in the middle of a school day. I waited with trepidation.

The music cut off suddenly and Odette's voice came from the next room. "Evie? Are you home already?"

'Don't come in, don't come in, don't come in,' I thought.

"Eve, I'm coming in!", Odette said.

As the door creaked open, panic set in. I lunged for the bathroom door and barged inside, hoping I got it closed before Odette entered the bedroom. The bathroom door closing alerted Eve. She was leaning over the bathtub in her bra and panties, having washed her hair and face in the bathtub- the sink was hooked up to the washing machine- and was drying off with a bath towel. As soon as she noticed me, she clutched to towel to herself, holding it over her chest with one hand and her privates with another. Fortunately she noticed the shushing finger over my lips and the half-panicked expression on my face and swallowed the scream in her mouth. "Eve?" Odette called from the bedroom. "Is that you in the bathroom?"

Eve must not have heard her earlier, but she did now. "Yeah, it's me. Don't come in!"

"What are you doing home at this hour?", Odette asked with concern.

"There was some drama at school. I had to come home," Eve said.

"What kind of drama?" Odette gasped. "Oh my god, did you get beaten up?!"

"No, nothing that bad. Just… I'll tell you all about it later, alright?"

The deflection seemed to make Odette suspicious. "Eve, you know I'm going to have to tell Grace. Just be honest with me."

"I'll be fine. I'll talk to her. Just leave me be, Odette."

A pause. "Okay.", Odette said. For a second I breathed a sigh of relief. The relief ended when Odette continued, "Just let me have a look at you and make sure..."

"NO!", Eve said. "Don't come in, I'm… I'm about to… get in the shower!"

She gestured to me to get out of the way, squeezed past me and turned on the shower. As she bent down to reach the tap, my eyes were instinctively drawn to her rear. With legs pressed tight together, it rose up in the shape of a heart. I knew she agonized over her butt being flat, but I wouldn't describe it as such. "Tight" might be a better word. Tight wasn't so bad…

I shook my head to clear it, lucky that Eve hadn't noticed me leering. Or my own tight underpants.

"I won't keep you long," Odette continued, "I just need to check..."

"ODETTE!", Eve screamed. "I'm not decent!"

"Oh, Eve, you don't have anything I haven't seen before..."

The doorknob turned. Eve wheeled on me, grabbed my arm, and nodded to the shower, whispering "Go! Go!" I half-jumped, half-was-shoved into the tub, counting myself lucky I didn't trip and faceplant into the shower wall. And even luckier that I avoided screaming on learning that it was the hot water Eve had turned on and the shower head was spewing boiling lava. I hissed in pain and quickly pressed myself against the back wall of the shower, dodging the worst of the spray. Eve threw the shower curtain closed just as the door swung open.

"Come on, sweetie, you can trust me...", Odette said, oddly maternal.

I heard Eve sigh and the sound of cloth rustling. "Here, see? No bruises or anything."

"Okay...", Odette said. "So then… what did happen?"

"Nothing big, just… some assholes being..."

"Evie, you don't have to both shower and wash your clothes for 'nothing big'… They slimed you, didn't they?"

"It was nothing." A pause. "Odie, don't..."

"Your hair is wet," Odette said. "but you haven't been in the shower yet. Was it…?", she trailed off.

"Beer," Eve answered. "Loaded up a super soaker with it and sprayed me down."

"Beer?! Why?"

"I don't know, it was something new and original! Anyway, I had to get home before anybody smelled it and dragged me to the principal for drinking."

"Were you drinking?", Odette pressed.

"I wasn't!", Eve protested.

"Because if you were, you should admit to it. Grace used to booze on the DL too, but on school-"

"I wasn't drinking! I swear!", Eve pleaded.

Odette sighed. "Alright, honey. I believe you. We still have to tell Grace, but I'll vouch for you."

It was good to know that Odette had Eve's back, but I really wished she would wrap it up and get out soon. Boiling-hot water was currently backing up in the tub and soaking into my socks, cooking the soles of my feet. Not to mention the steam was making me sweat.

"But dear God, who would waste good beer like that?", Odette continued. "It's like, sacrilege!"

"Well, I doubt it was what you'd call 'good' beer, these guys were more the 'big bottles of cheap piss'-type drinkers. Look, can I just shower, please?"

"Okay, honey. When you're done, come inside and we can talk about it over lunch."

"Thanks, Odette."

A pause. "Oh, come here and give Aunt Odie a hug."

"Odie, I, ughhh..." Eve voice was muffled, and I had a sudden notion of her head being pressed between Odette's breasts. Her big, firm, soft, pillowy, probably-very-cuddly… I deliberately threw my head back to bonk it on the wall. 'Down, boy!', I thought.

"Thank you, Aunt Odie," Eve said with a little sarcasm. "I'll be out quick."

"Take as much time as you need," Odette said.

I waited. Heard the sound of footsteps and a door closing. Then Eve threw open the curtain, holding a bath towel in place around herself, covering her body from the chest down. "Come on, we're clear."

I ran past the fire-breathing showerhead and hopped out of the tub. Safe on the bathmat, I hurriedly stood on first one foot and then the other to remove my socks.

"Jesus!", I said, hoping I wasn't loud enough to be heard outside. "How high do you have the boiler up? Look at this, my feet are red!"

"I'm sorry! It was the only thing I…," Eve stopped, staring down at my feet.

"What?", I asked. "They're not blistering, are they…?"

Eve lifted her head to look at me, mouth hanging open. "A-Aaron… are you… hard?"

I was. Very much, I realized. "Uhh…!", I stammered, then just smiled lamely, put my hand behind my head and laughed nervously.

Eve's voice rose an octave. "For me?!"

My brain locked up like a web browser trying to open 20 video streams at once. "Uhhhhhhhh…," I said, trying and failing to figure out what, if anything, was the right answer to that question.

A sudden electric beeping made us both jump. The washer was done.

Eve made a circling gesture with her finger. "Turn around."

I obediently faced the closed door. A few moments later, Eve handed my clothes to me. As she had promised, they were damp, but clean. We dressed in awkward silence, with our backs to one another. After I was dressed, I snuck out via the window. We were only on the second floor, and the drop wasn't dangerous if I hung from my fingertips first. I waved to Eve and left.

Back on the main street, I checked my phone. By the time I got back, it would be sixth, if not seventh. And I still hadn't had lunch. I decided Eve had the right idea; I'd blow off the rest of the day and kill time at some hangouts until evening. Hopefully without anyone noticing that I still had a raging boner. What the hell was I going to do about that?

Her mouth covered mine, and our tongues danced like rutting snakes. The moans in her throat were music to my ears, and I devoured her lustful cries like ambrosia. Her body was heavy atop mine, but soft, and softest of all were the two plump mounds that rubbed against my chest as she ground her underpants against mine. I ran my hands all over her body- ass, hips, waist, back, everywhere was curved and voluptuous. Breaking the kiss, she threw herself back, her long black hair tracing an ecstatic curve through the air, until she was upright. She straddled me, looking down with a smile that was almost predatory. Odette was truly as wild as her reputation implied.

"You like this, loverboy?" she asked. "You like it when I ride your rod?" She ground her hips back and forth, stroking her cloth-clad vulva over my exposed dick. "Oh, wow," she continued. "You are a big one, anybody ever tell you that? I'm big too, aren't I?" She cupped her tits and jiggled them like that clip I'd seen on that pornsite that one time. After a giggle, she went on. "You want to touch them, don't you? Squeeze them?"

Without waiting, my hands grabbed Odette's tits and squeezed. She squealed. "Oh, god, so rough! Keep going, baby, I don't mind at all." I squeezed harder. My breath was coming rapidly, the excitement growing as my pulse quickened. The woman mmmed and ahhhed along with my maulings. "Pinch them," she said. I pinched the nipples, and she yelped from the pain. "Harder," she said. I did so. And again. And again. Then my hands covered them again, tits so small they barely more than filled my palms, but the small ones were so sensitive. She grabbed my hands and shoved them down on the mattress, looming over me, ocean-blue locks hanging messily about her face, a whiff of floral scent in the air. Her eyes, blue like a pure spring, pierced me like spears. Eve…

"You want me, don't you?", she asked. "Nobody else but me. Even the hottest, sexiest, most wanton woman won't do." She lunged down and kissed me, sucking my lips so hard she must have been trying to draw my soul from my body. "I want you too, Aaron. Oh, god, how I want you. How could you ever think different? Feel it, I'm dripping for you!" Her bare crease rubbed against my hard rod, drenching it in wetness. My hands were all over her body, slim and tight, but still with a pleasing feminine softness. She pushed herself to an upright position, still holding my hands in hers. "Oh God, Aaron, I want you inside me! I want you so much! You want it? Do you? Then go ahead, lover. Go ahead and take it. It's all yours. Nobody else's. Give it to me."

Slowly, it slipped inside. The feeling was hot and wet and indescribable. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh…," She moaned, voice shaking, eyes closed, mouth wide. "Oh, yes! Oh, yes! You're so big, Aaron! Go on, give it to me!" Leaning over me with a smile, she slid up and down, her silken lips caressing my turgid flesh with each movement. My heart was pounding, and her moans were lewd and breathy. Up and down, up and down, each one taking us higher, making her cries louder and hotter. "Say you want me, Aaron. Say you want me. Say it!"

I did want her. More than anything. Her up and down came faster and harder, hips bouncing against mine again and again. "Say you want me! Say you want me forever! Say you can't live without me. I'm so close, lover, please, I want to hear it."

I grimaced. I could barely keep control. "Do you want me, Aaron? Do you want me? Answer me, lover, just one word, that's all it will take." She was breathing heavy as I was. Hot and heavy, she could barely squeeze out words between the gasps. "Tell me, tell me, tell me!", she said, each repetition pitched higher. "Do you? Do you want me? DO YOU WANT ME?!"

Teeth gritting, I squeezed the word out like a hiss. "Yeeeeeeeesss!"

We came as one. She threw her head back and screamed, and my eyes clenched shut until I saw white. The explosive ecstasy of release surged through me, reverberating from the base of my dick in shuddering ripples throughout my entire body.

And then… relaxed.

I took a moment to catch my breath, then I sat up, throwing the heavy blankets off my body to find myself again in my room. The woman who existed only in my lustful imaginings had vanished. Washed away like a dream by the morning sun. I always felt indefinably guilty after these sessions, even when I wasn't imagining someone I knew. I took a sharp breath in and out, to cleanse the feeling from my mind. The handkerchief clutched around my penis had caught most of the physical detritus. I wiped off as much of the remainder as I could before shoving my deflating erection back into my pants.

Diane would be calling me for dinner soon, so I set right to the clean-up. I wadded up the handkerchief so that the wetness was on the inside, then threw it in my laundry basket, shifting some of the clothes around to conceal it. Then I went to the bathroom, flushed the toilet for an excuse, and washed my hands. Back in my room, I sprayed some Febreze around and fixed the bedsheets. All the evidence was now concealed except for the flush on my cheeks, which would go away shortly.

I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling, letting my mind wander. I wondered what Eve would have done if she had seen the thoughts in my head just now. Would she be terrified? Flattered? Disgusted? Excited? Intimidated? Would she swoon, or slap me right across the face?

My desk sat right next to the bed. Impulsively, I grabbed my phone from atop it. I typed out a text to Eve: "I want to be more than just friends." I didn't send it immediately, but read it over. Then I backspaced over the last part and re-wrote it: "I want to be your boyfriend." Again I read it over, backspaced and re-wrote: "I want to be your lover." Finally, I backspaced over the entire message and tossed my phone down on the bed next to me. Eve had made her decision, whether I liked it or not, and that decision was "I want to be friends."

"I want to just be friends."

"It's not you, it's me."

"It's better this way."

People say these things in an attempt to make it not hurt. It never works. Eve had made her choice, and I had to respect that, but a relationship isn't a toy that you can just put away when you don't want it anymore, or replace when it breaks. It's like a business, into which you invest time and emotion. And if that business fails, you don't get your investment back. It's gone, and you're left poorer for the loss. No matter what Eve felt, my feelings for her were more than friendly. The physical urges were easy enough to handle, but it went deeper than that. The time I spent with her was the best part of my day. Seeing her smile made me feel happy. I was at ease with her, like we could talk about anything, shallow or deep, and not be judged. And when she was hurt, I felt the hurt too.

Was I in love with Eve?

It seemed absurd. We had been dating for only… well, we hadn't. Saturday was our first, if it counted. Unless the previous Monday by the fountain counted. But then again, we'd known each other much longer than that, even if it had been a low-key thing. How long does it take to fall in love, anyway? Hell, what even is love to begin with? I'd never been in love before, so I had no standard for comparison.

I beat my head against the pillow in frustration. This navel-gazing accomplished nothing. Besides, the decision had been made. Much as I wanted to explore my feelings for Eve- and hers for me- she wasn't comfortable with it. So that was that. Nothing to be done. I had to move on from it, same as any other failed relationship. Bury the past.

Bury the past.

It seems so easy. Anything does, when you summarize it as a three-word phrase. But when you have to decompress that phrase into a plan of action, it becomes complex and difficult. As appealing an idea as burying the past may be when the past is hurtful, it's not so easy when it's fond memories you have to bury.

If Eve wanted to be just friends, I would try. But I couldn't deny that my feelings for Eve had already gone beyond friendship. And unlike simple lusts, there was no magic lever that would turn these feelings off.