II
Following Julie's example, I pack up my stuff and quietly slip out of the library. Some little punk heading for the children's section gets in my way. A head-on collision leaves my books on the floor and a mildly perturbed Ken. The kid starts laughing so I flip him off. He needed a taste of reality. The librarian sees but before she can make a scene, I'm gone. Out the doors and into the mind-numbing cold of a Minnesota October. I exaggerate, of course.
As I stalk across the campus, a conversation I had heard in the library replays itself in my head again and again.
"So what you doing this weekend?"
"Nothin', why?"
"Wanna come over to my house? I'm having this early Halloween Party thing. My parents are going to be out of town."
When you're little like me, it's easy to be invisible to the big hulking football jocks and the slutty-yet-innocent cheerleaders.When they do notice me, they can tell I'm not the kind who'd ever run in their circles. To be fair, I didn't even know these people, yet I'm passing judgments and making stereotypes. It's hard not to though, when I'm seeing the jock awkwardly feel the bimbo up in the library. It's something they'll gloss over when their Accident -artfully named Junior- asks how they met.
I'm a horrible person. Horrible people deserve the rack. And in my case, syphilis too.
I pull out a pack of cigarettes.
"Hey Kenny," Adam says quietly as we pass by each other. He's the only one on the team that calls me Kenny. Correction, he's the only one I'll let call me Kenny. "Don't forget to be in the locker room."
I nod and keep wearily shuffling on. Everywhere I go I keep seeing people I know. The cigarettes are a beacon of light.Everyone wants the Holy Grail today. It's like I'm in some demented video game: hide from Charlie, the Dean, and random history teachers without getting caught. Ahh, the thrills of being a total bad-ass. Dodging across the main court yard has never been this much fun.
There's a monkey on my back and he's screeching in my ear. Ever get that feeling? It's like:Nicotine. Nicotine. Nicotine. I NEED MY NICOTINE FIX, DAMN IT.
Technically there's no smoking on school grounds. BUT according to the resident future lung-cancer sufferers at Eton Hall, the evergreen bushes off to the side of the courtyard are a sort of No Man's Land. They were supposed to be hiding this ugly, gray, concrete building. It was actually a huge bomb shelter. I can't say that McCarthyism never did anything for me.
The junkies love this spot because it's conveniently close to the classrooms. The particularly neurotic can still get their fix every hour without worrying about being late. Let me rephrase that, they didn't have far to walk once they decided to ditch.
You just had to watch out for the grounds-keeper. He'd cultivated these evergreens into six and a half feet tall monstrosities and didn't appreciate 'a bunch of punk-ass kids romping around in the foliage'. The grounds-keeper would get his revenge by spraying for pestilence without checking to see if anyone was there first. True story, happened twice to a friend of mine. Note the dubious 'friend of mine' tag on.
When I push past all the brush, I see there's somebody already there. I light up after we've exchanged cool, collected nods.
"Ken," he says simply.
"Luis," I answer back as I drop my bag on the ground. The monkey has backed off a little, but he's still there.
We stand there for a few minutes, chewing on the ends of our nicotine deathsticks.The silence isn't awkward. It's actually kind of comforting.
It's a special little club me and Luis have. The rules: new Ducks only and you have to smoke. Simple enough, right? Julie wouldn't touch a cigarette to throw it away. Dwayne took everything they had taught us in health class to heart. Every once and a while Russ will stop by, but he talks too much and it's uncomfortable. And Portman, he's too busy smoking something else. So that just leaves the two of us, the repressed figure skater and the social butterfly. I'm not judging Luis because he 'adjusts' himself more than he should, and he's not judging me by the way I occasionally glance around nervously. I'm quietly collecting my thoughts about nothing and everything when he ruins the moment.
"So. Are you going to tell me what's going on, or am I going to have to stand here in the cold until next year?"
"You should wear more clothes if you're cold," I giggle."Layers are key."
"Christ, I'm not going to let you lecture me on fashion," Luis scoffs and raises one of his eyebrows. I wish I could do that. "Besides the fact that you shop at fucking Walmart with Banksie Boy, you're suffering just as much as I am, Mr. Know-It-All."
"Yeah? Maybe I just have the nuts to shut up and take it."
"You?" He laughs, flashing me his pearly-whites. "Your balls froze off a long time ago. It's this damn Minnesota climate-"
"Shut up," I cut Luis off. I throw myself on to him, adrenaline, lust, and a little bit of nicotine rushing through me. Luis isn't too much taller than me, so kissing him is incredibly easy. We're standing very close, body to body, boy to boy.
Our cigarettes have fallen to the ground to eventually smolder into ash. Mementos of our little stay here. Next time I come back, I'll see the buds and remember how his lips tasted like a little like strawberries and his tongue tasted like every Christmas candy I'd ever eaten. Surreal.
My mind's back to everything and nothing and how fantastic it would be if the world would just end now. Yeah, this is all just from a kiss. His hands are mussing my hair and mine are on his waist and heading down. The-kiss-that-could-be-a-whole-lot-more. I'm looking deep into his brown eyes when the tips of my fingers reach the elastic waistband of his track-pants.
Should I? A thousand lonely thoughts and a night to remember...except it isn't night. It isn't even dark out. But it's the moment that matters. I slide my hand first under his track-pants, then his boxers to his warm skin. Suddenly, he stops kissing me.
Luis shoves me away so hard I trip and fall backwards. I just lay there on the ground. Funny thing, I'd been expecting that.
Luis is afraid of being dominated. What I did shook him up a little. There's more to it than just that, but it's nothing we could talk about. He says where and when we'll 'be together' and he makes the first move. I'm supposed to shut up and take it. I'm his little bitch-boy, a fuck-toy. The rhymes are my trippy excuse of a defense mechanism. It's how I make up for the fact that he's with with me only because he wants to respect his girlfriend's vow of abstinence. I know this and I'd still eat out of the palm of his hand. How sweet.
"So what was that about?" I ask, trying not to care that I already know the answer.
Luis plops down next to me.
"I could say the same thing." He pulls out another cigarette, lights up, and casually smiles at me. "Your hand was cold."
This is the closest thing to an apology I will ever get from him. And I cling on to it. That's my apology. That, and Love is Lovely. I move around so my head's resting on his chest. I sigh, "Baby."
"Later, baby," Luis says. I'm not sure if he's either mocking me or half-assing affection. Whatever it is, it makes me feel nice inside.
Don't worry, I'm still normal. I've lost a lot of sleep thinking about it. He fucks me and we don't appear in public together. I put up with it because I didn't want to get kicked out. The school board has a Conservative Agenda, there's no denying it. I've been labeled 'Affirmative Action' twice in my life, first with the Ducks and then for getting into Eden. Affirmative Action had done wonders for me. I didn't want to go back on all that now, did I? So this was serious cloak and dagger shit. I couldn't help being in love, though.
"And now," he says smoothly, "We will continue the conversation."
"Huh?" Lost in Thought: Danger Ken Robinson!
"You still haven't answered my first question. Why are all the little Duckies meeting in the locker room?" His right hand is mussing my hair up again. Normally I'd strangle anybody that got too close, but Luis, he's different. He's special to me.
"That's Question of the Day material," I say absently.
"Don't do Question of the Day, you little shit." He raps my head with his knuckles. "That's Goldberg's thing."
I frown. "Yeah, well he never asks me, so I can do what ever I want." It's true. He asks everybody but me. Even some non-Ducks like Linda, Scooter, and even Connie's boyfriend.
"Poor wittle Kenny-poo. Ignored and forgotten in the corner."
"Asshole," I reply bitterly. I reach up and swat his hand away from me.
"Prick."
"Jerk."
"Bastard."
"Fuckhead."
"Fucker of the Fuckhead."
This was going no where. I sit up and check my watch. "Fifteen minutes until we must make a sacrifice to the Demagogue Duck."
He snorts, "I thought I told you to quit using big words. We're not in school, who you trying to impress?"
I frown again and try to ignore his comment, "You got any breath mints left?"
"Yeah, they're in my pants, hold on."
"Perv."
Luis gets up and walks over to his backpack. He unzips it and pulls out a pair of jeans. "See, these are my pants." He points at his track-pants. "These are my track-pants. You're never doing my laundry Ken." He produces a white lifesaver and tosses it to me.
"Thanks," I lie. I leave the blue wrapper sitting next to my old cigarette. Another piece of trash is another fond memory of my time with dear Luis. "How do I look?" I ask, standing up and brushing off loose dirt from my clothes.
"Like you've just had crazy, wild sex with a hot Latino man."
If it's not the sex, it's the humor that draws me to him. "So you've met Ricardo?"
"Shit," Luis swears vehemently. "Not funny. Are you cheating on me? Are you trying to ruin what we have?"
Is he... serious? I'm either his bitch or his babe. Haven't figured out which it is today. "Ahh, no?"
"Good, 'cause I like you. I like you so much, I'm never going to let you go." Luis crosses the few feet between us and gives me a big bear hug. He IS joking. I can tell because he's trying to feel up my ass.
"Why is it always about the sex?" I shot back disgustedly.
"Hormones man, I can't help it." He turns me around and pushes me away from him. Gently, this time. "Go socialize. Talk to Adam. Tell him to quit being Adam."
I snort and shook my head, "What, you mean a lonely, depressed, self-imposed outcast? We need to get that boy on Prozac."
"Exactly," Luis pats my head fondly. "Viagra too, from what I've heard."
"What have you heard?!"
Luis, he knows stuff. And sometimes if I ask real nice,he'll tell me.
"Nothing, nothing. Well," he smiles a little and bites his lip. "Well, it is something. Later though. Get to the locker room.You don't want to be late do you? Don't you have a reputation to uphold as the Ducks' good little boy?"
"Maybe." Do good boys eavesdrop? The stupid conversation between the jock and the cheerleader was still spinning around my head. "Hey, is there a party this weekend?"
"There's always a party," Luis replies in amusement. "You just have to know where to look, babe. Maybe if you quit spending so much time ignoring the rest of the student body, you'd get invited to a few."
"That's harsh," I consider his words. "But true."
He smiles a little bit more.
I shrug. "I don't know, maybe if you'd get me in..."
"Una problema mi amigo. You know the rules."
I mentally cringe. Despite how much I love him, I still think Luis is annoying when he is 'en español'.
"The rules suck," I say looking down. Especially this one. The whole 'not allowed to appear in public together' thing. It's starting to get on my nerves.
He shrugs. "But they're still the rules."
"And they still suck." I try my best to walk away calmly. And I notice something.
He doesn't try to stop me.
(endparttwo)
A/N: Yay for sakurakasugano and Queen of the Cake-eaters, my reviewers! See, if you review you get to have your screen name published in my story. It's a real honor (nudge nudge, wink wink). Oh, and if you didn't catch it, Ken is in love with Luis, but Luis... he is a bastard. Sorry, but he is for this story. The sheepy plot plays out from there (and with sexy results!).
Warning: I've decided to hell with the word count and now I'm writing to my heart's content. That's why this is so bitchin' long.