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One Month Later
--
Kyle sighed and rubbed his forehead as he got back to his apartment, his day of classroom hassles finished – for the moment, at any rate.
I thought you were here to help me, he thought wryly.
There is only so much I am capable of assisting you with during this day and age. I have no concept of what you call "literature". During my time, there was hardly even a written language, and if your history classes recount accurately, I am to understand that there would not be one for another millennium. Our tales were told through word-of-mouth and by art.
Yeah, yeah. Make up all the excuses you want. You just want me to do it myself. Kyle smirked.
Would not any parent want their child to show proficiency in a subject based on the merit of the child and none other?
You hardly qualify as my father, Theoris.
At this moment, I am the closest thing you have to one.
No argument here. Kyle picked up his mail, noting the stack was unusually high today. This might be good. More and more publishers are sending me stuff every day. Maybe I really can do this?
You have been pushing hard to reach your goal, Kyle, as hard as anyone could be expected to, I believe. It should follow, naturally, that your efforts are rewarded.
Let's hope so. In this society, it's a lot harder. It's not like yours, Theoris... we didn't have a destiny planned out for us from birth. Them's the brakes of capitalism.
...I am sure your language teacher would be quite proud of you for that last sentence.
Kyle laughed aloud. Sarcasm? I think I like that on you... but don't overdo it.
And become like Jade? I think not.
Kyle laughed again. Okay, okay. Now... first thing's first. Need to buckle down and do my Lit studies. He unlocked the door to his apartment as he continued to look through his mail, then quickly passed through and locked the door behind him. But even before that, I need to make sure not too many people stare at me for laughing at myself.
He tossed his backpack into his computer chair, arguably the best chair in the place, and rummaged through it until he found and pulled out his Literature book. Rhet and Comp can be horribly boring sometimes... but at least Poe is the slightest bit interesting.
If morbid.
Definitely morbid, Kyle agreed. But that's what makes it interesting!
If you say so.
Kyle rolled his eyes. Whatever. He sat down on his couch and opened his book up to the latest Poe entry his class had been assigned to read and write an analytical essay on. "To Helen". Already read the poem... but just how am I supposed to analyze it? It's comparison, mostly. Simile.
Look over the second question, Kyle. It asks what of Helen's qualities the comparisons suggest. So perhaps your analysis should focus on this.
Maybe. Though that last stanza makes him sound more like Dante, mourning his never-to-be relationship with Beatrice.
I was given to understand you have never read Inferno.
I haven't gotten all the way through it, no, but I've read bits and pieces of it. Plus I've taken a look at his biography. Pretty obsessive guy.
...Read Inferno this weekend. Then we shall both know whether your judgment is accurate.
Kyle scoffed. C'mon, Theoris, I've got enough to do this week! I've got the PowerPoint project for Computers, then the research paper for Lit, and an analytical paper on that Government book. You always can tell finals are coming up when you've got a workload like this one.
All the more reason you should get your homework finished on time. That way you shall have time for Inferno. Now, get to work. It's in your best interest.
Another scoff escaped Kyle's lips. Sheesh. You're about as bad as my–
Do NOT compare me to your parents.
The teen's jaw dropped as he realized the faux pas he'd come dangerously close to committing. Oh my god... Theoris, I'm sorry...
As you should be. I know it is in your best interest not because I say so, but because you are the one who chose this line of study. Not your parents, but you. It would not do to fail a class you chose to participate in.
You're right, you're absolutely right. Kyle sighed and pulled out a pen and paper. So. Time for note-taking.
--
An hour, two hours passed, and Kyle was stuck on his analysis paper for Poe. He sat back and sighed. I've got all the notes I need, don't I? Got an outline, point-by-point... so where's the inspiration?
The phone rang.
Kyle huffed and picked up his cordless. Just when I thought things couldn't get any more hectic... "Hello?"
"McCraine?"
He blinked, blinked again. "Monica?"
"Duh. Who else in this region knows you by McCraine?"
"Probably all of my teachers," he responded. "How's it going?"
"Going fine. Got a five-class roster, though, so I'm busy as all hell."
"Well, then, I won't waste your time. What can I do for you tonight?"
"You got Hoskins for Government?"
"Yeah."
"Good, because I'm stuck on the final analysis paper he assigned. And considering you're about the only one I know out here... I wanted to know if..." She sighed. "God, I feel like I'm taking advantage of you being nice to me–"
"You need some help with the paper?" Kyle asked.
"...Yeah. Yeah, I need help on it." Static crackled across the line; Monica was blowing out a breath. "There, I said it."
Kyle shrugged amicably. "Sure, I can help you out on it. Come on over, I'd be happy to do what I can."
"How far are you on yours?"
"Wrote up the outline yesterday, got my thesis statement out of the way before class this morning. I'd been planning to write up a couple paragraphs this evening."
"What's your thesis?"
"Justification of the Fourth Amendment."
"Good God, why pick an amendment like that one in these times? The most prominent ones are the First and Fifth, you know that."
Kyle smirked. "I picked it because I didn't think anyone else would. And you've pretty much proven me right. Hoskins had better give me a good grade."
"We'll see. Obviously I'm not doing that one. How much about the other amendments do you know?"
"Enough to analyze most of them. Come on over and I'll help you out. Sound good?"
"Fine by me. I don't suppose you need help on anything?"
"Depends on whether you've got Meyer for Rhet and Comp Two."
"Nah, got her for Rhet and Comp One."
"Figures. Did she give you a research paper? Or something on Poe?"
"No, but I've done a couple research papers for my other classes. So what? Do you need some help with that, then?"
"Might be nice, yeah. Plus this analysis on a poem by our favorite raven. I'm kinda stuck on it, could use some insight."
"We'll hammer something out. I'll be over in, say, an hour?"
"Sounds good."
--
Monica was true to her word, and within an hour, she found herself knocking on Kyle McCraine's door. She was shaking her head as she did so, however; she couldn't help but wonder to herself what the hell she'd been thinking to actually ask him for help.
It was only through forcefully reminding herself that he'd done nothing but be nice to her all this calendar year that got her to decide she was doing the right thing. She'd not really bonded with any of her classmates... she only considered Julian an acquaintance, and he was the closest classmate she had. She didn't have any classes alongside Kyle, and she found herself wondering if that might change next term.
Kyle's door swung open, and she was greeted by a much different-looking Kyle McCraine than the one she'd expected. He was wearing a muscle shirt, and she could see that his complexion was not the pasty, pale one she'd come to know, but rather a healthy moderate shade, just slightly tan. His arms were bereft of their many tattoos, another great surprise – he still had one on his upper left arm, one that looked rather like an eye she'd drawn for her seventh grade history class during their studies of Eastern civilizations, but beyond that, there was nothing to even indicate he'd had tattoos in the first place.
There were two surprises, though, that were the greatest among all the ones she encountered in his appearance. He did not smell the slightest bit of cigarette smoke, nor did the interior of his apartment, and his hair had been cut short and the dye taken out, to reveal a light brown that actually looked very good on him.
Her reaction to all of these changes was a simple one. She stood there and goggled at him.
For his part, he grinned, unperturbed. "Wow. Nice to see you again, Monica. You look great. Come on in, I've got some soda if you'd like."
"Um..." She forced herself to nod and to step inside. "Sure. Sure, I'd like some soda... that is, if you've got some Dew."
"By the truckload. It's the only thing that'll keep me awake at night to work on my reports." He snickered. "That and Pepsi. The original stuff, not the vanilla or the blue crap they had going a while."
She nodded again as she made for his couch. "Yeah, I had some of the blue stuff while it was on the shelf... probably the most worthless seventy-five cents I've ever invested..."
He gave an appreciative laugh. "Well, no worries. Not only are the drinks around here free, they're palatable, too."
"How can I go wrong?" She sat down and shrugged her backpack off. "Unless you tell me it's diet soda."
He shook his head. "No way. Heard what that can do to your teeth. I figure I've made enough mistakes where that's concerned."
"Good for you." She pulled a couple books out of her backpack, along with a notebook and a pencil. "Okay, so we both need some help. Let's get started, shall we?"
--
For the next two hours, they conducted their business both formally and informally, showing each other what mistakes had been made, what still needed to be done, and giving each other encouragement where appropriate. Being who they were also gave them the unique opportunity to feel they could be as honest with each other as humanly possible, and so they didn't dole out praise lightly – not even Kyle, who had long since resolved to be as civil with Monica as he could be.
At the end of those two hours, Kyle was well on his way to resolving his research paper and analysis on Poe, while Monica had found her inspiration for the Government analysis. They'd barely said anything to each other in the last fifteen minutes, in fact, so engrossed were they in writing out their notes and thoughts. Both of them chose to stop when their wrists began to cramp up – Kyle's wrist held out only about thirty seconds beyond Monica's.
"Ow," he gasped, and he leaned back and shook his wrist out.
She scoffed at him. "Too many thoughts?"
"Yeah."
"Same here. Guess this was a good idea."
"Looks that way."
They regarded each other a moment. She broke the awkward silence. "I, um... never did thank you. For the yellow roses, I mean. I know I was a bitch about it before–"
"Hardly."
"–but they really did brighten my day. You were right, I was feeling alone." She sighed. "And those girls, the ones chasing me everywhere... they had even less inside than I did. Their entire existence seemed to rotate around me. It was like, I could hardly get anything done. I had to satisfy their image of me as a prom queen first."
"Well, after your uncle, though..." Kyle cocked his head. "You got rid of them. You were all by yourself for a while."
"And that's how I wanted it, too. There wasn't anyone around who could make me feel better, so why should I have even bothered to ask?" She shrugged. "But those roses... they did something for me. Made me feel better, I guess. Maybe even..." She trailed off.
"Maybe even what?" he inquired.
"Maybe even... made me feel wanted. I mean, it's not like my parents ever paid attention to me, unless I was doing something they didn't like." She scoffed. "Dad's a lawyer, Mom's a self-satisfied, power-mad dominatrix. She always had to control me whenever I wasn't behaving to her standards."
"Which is why you went out with all those guys?"
"Kind of. I guess it was my way of saying, 'Screw you, woman. I can live my life they way I want it.'" She looked at him. "I wasn't sure I believed it before when I first heard it, but I might believe it now, if you told me it was true. Is it true that you moved out of your parents' house because you hated them?"
He bit his lip. "Hard to answer. What I hated wasn't them, I don't think... what I hated was the way they were trying to force me into a life I didn't want to lead. And it just got to a point where I couldn't stand to be stifled by them anymore, so... yeah. I took off because I just couldn't live with them anymore."
"Hnh. Kinda makes me wish I'd done the same thing. It's hard to be your own person when everyone just expects you to be their image of you."
He frowned. "Don't tell me you did all that stuff back in grade school just because you were living up to everyone's expectations."
"No, I did a lot of it because I felt like it. Purely to satisfy my own ego. And then people built their expectations around that."
"Hmm."
There was another prolonged silence between the two of them, and once more, Monica was the one who broke it, standing up as she did so. "Well. I guess I'd better get going. Got classes in the morning and I'm not paying to miss them."
Kyle nodded. "Probably best. Look, uh..." He scratched the back of his neck. "Would you like to maybe... get something to eat sometime? There's a Starbuck's over on 3rd Street, and I don't think the local cops have a warrant on us yet..."
A slight smile crossed her features at that one, but the awkwardness of the question hung there for a moment. A thoughtful look entered her gaze. "You sure you want to be seen hanging out with the likes of me? I am your worst enemy, after all."
He shrugged. "In Indiana, maybe you were. Here in Oregon, though? Middle of nowhere? There's always the chance to start over. And the question isn't whether I want to be seen with you, otherwise I wouldn't have asked." He smiled. "Question is, do you mind hanging out with the likes of me?"
Before she had a chance to answer, though, there was a knock on the door. Both of them turned at the noise, and Kyle's brow furrowed. "Strange. I'm not expecting anyone else."
"You didn't order a pizza?"
"That's a joke, right?" Kyle got up and approached the door. "Who is it?" he called.
No answer came.
At least, none of the verbal sort.
But a small card shuffled underneath the edge of the door, followed by the sound of footsteps quickly leaving the scene.
Monica, being the one closer to the door, likewise frowned, then bent down and picked up the card. She raised her eyebrows at it. "Doesn't have a name on it. Just says 'Duelist' across the front."
Kyle jumped across the room and flung the door open wide.
No one was there.
"Huh." He closed the door again and looked to Monica. "Let me see it."
She cooperatively handed the card to him and watched him as he opened it. His lips moved, but barely any sound escaped, and what sound did escape was unintelligible muttering. Still, it was obviously intriguing, because one of Kyle's eyebrows rose as he concluded reading the text inside.
"What is it?" she asked.
"An invitation to a tournament," he answered, showing her the card. She read it.
You are hereby invited to attend a privately-sponsored Duel Monsters tournament hosted by Abigail Madison, vice president of Madison Enterprises, subsidiary of the globally renowned Kaiba Corporation. Should you wish to act upon this invitation, you are hereby instructed to leave this notice in its original location of delivery within one (1) hour of its arrival with your printed name and signature on the back.
She blinked. "Pretty terse, isn't it?"
"I'd say so." He slowly made his way over to the kitchenette. "What does Madison Enterprises do?"
Monica searched her memory. "Well... back when KaibaCorp was an arms industry, they did oceanographic research. Probably weapons for submarines. Torpedoes, countermeasures, things of that sort."
"And their vice president is into Duel Monsters?"
She shrugged. "Most people are. The game has taken the world by storm, you know."
"True." Sounds almost like something Kaiba would do, though. But why invite me to a tournament hosted by a company that's run by arguably one of the most wealthy moguls on the planet? It'd be a waste of time, I'm not that good–
Unless, somehow, it has to do with me having Sanga.
But who would know about that, besides myself and Zack? Jade, obviously, but would she have anything to do with it?
"Kyle?"
He blinked. "Huh?"
Monica chuckled. "Lost in thought, there, McCraine?"
"Um. Yeah. Unfamiliar territory and all that."
"Yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't fade. "I have to get going."
"What about Starbuck's?"
Her smile widened, just the slightest bit. "After the finals, get back to me about it. And don't stop pestering me until I give you an answer, how's that?"
"Fair enough. But how's pestering you going to get you to say yes?"
"For all you know, it won't." She smirked and opened the door. "I'll see you later."
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And that she will, but not before Kyle finds out what's going on with this mysterious invitation. Up next, Kyle finds out what makes him so special – and what the vice president of Madison Enterprises is searching for! Stay tuned!