CHAPTER FOUR: THE WESTERN BOY
"His redolent iniquity
Reflects in every corner of the room
Maybe it's the treason
Maybe it's decay
Maybe it's the reason
Maybe it's the words you say."
"The Western Boy" - Little Comets
Deep breathing was supposed to be a calming sensation, but Riku was finding it ineffectual at best midway through the school day in the face of the overt hostility he'd encountered that morning. Eyes fixed on the interior of his locker, he deposited textbooks from his first four classes and reached for the materials he'd need to finish off the day. He'd thought that no longer having Hayner as a guide after yesterday would work in his favor and offer a fresh start; it hadn't taken long after the teacher had dismissed first period English for him to learn just how misguided that assumption had been.
Hey, newbie…hey. Yeah, I'm talking to you.
Shouldering his messenger bag, he closed his locker with an unassuming click, then made his way toward fifth period Physics. None of these classes posed any challenge for him; they were covering materials that were either completely basic or outright review, which had Riku initially believing he'd be able to float by, turning in homework but remaining otherwise unnoticed. Instead, it'd just left him looking like a smartass every time he got called on and was practically guaranteeing that the last three months of his high school experience were sure to bore him astral projection-style straight out of his idling mind.
Hey, newbie. Where're you from?
That didn't even account for the revisionist history he was getting a crash course in, posthaste. In the midst of its Civil War unit, his US History class had yet to acknowledge the minor detail that the South hadn't actually prevailed. When he'd raised his hand to clarify an associated point, the teacher had regarded him with such unconcealed disdain that Riku had quickly redefined his criteria for feeling idiotic and small. He supposed he probably should have noted that the majority of cars in the school parking lot sported some variation of the Confederate flag, be it via fabric attached to a side window or something more pseudo-artistic like a decal covering the whole of a back bumper. It shouldn't have been difficult to work out from there how testing a centennial and a half's worth of Southern pride was about as effective as showing up to a gunfight sporting a knife as his weapon of choice.
Not for the first time in the past three days, Riku found himself grateful that he'd already been accepted to his top choice college. He just couldn't see himself feigning ignorance about common-knowledge facts on even something as trivial as a US History test at an ass-backwards rural high school like RHSHS.
California…? No, I mean where are you really from? What third world nation did your parents boat over here from, takin' jobs meant for actual Americans?
Sora had been the school's one saving grace thus far, Kairi in her own quirky way to an extent as well. While Southern through and through in speech and manner, Sora never failed to make light of Riku's myriad miscalculated comments and actions in a way that also subtly steered him onto a path the students at Radiant High seemed to find more socially palatable. It wasn't so much that Sora had been willing to give him a pass on his missteps over the past few days; he was simply more patient about explaining why others might see them as problematic, as opposed to simply shooting Riku a dark look and leaving him wondering how it was even possible for one lone person to step on so many toes in such a short span of time.
It was unfortunate, then, that he was in only one of Riku's classes beyond study hall. Even then, they were seated on opposite ends of the room from one another, and the classes Riku had immediately before and after were located in the outdoor trailer area completely across school grounds. With only a seven minute break between each period, he hardly had enough time to speed-walk his way to and from where he needed to go, let alone being able to stop and chat for more than a handful of seconds.
You think you're better'n us with those fancy clothes?
They didn't even have lunch period together. On Tuesday and Wednesday, Riku had sat with Hayner and his friends. On his own from here on out, he'd seen no reason to endure his classmate's silent treatment and thinly veiled glares for the span of thirty excruciating minutes that were supposed to be relaxing and social. During today's lunch period, he'd sat off on his own, somewhat relaxed, he supposed, but in no way remotely social.
So much for that.
At least he'd started eating better since he'd made the concerted effort to pack a his own lunch. As inconsequential as it felt in the face of so many other new experiences, a homemade meal was something that didn't change, from San Francisco to even middle-of-nowhere here. He'd had to improvise on a few of the ingredients that the local market hadn't carried, yes, but it was close enough to suffice under the circumstances.
That hair's so gay, Hollywood. We got a fag in our midst?
It was evenings when he was loneliest. With his father spending full weeks further down the Gulf Coast for his legal work and his mom working long hours at a regional hospital a handful of towns over, speeding back to Radiant Hollow for the sole purpose of picking him up from school before often making the return trip, Riku had been left primarily to his own devices. The two hour time difference hampered the majority of his efforts to keep up with his friends back home, and their rental house was far enough away from town to make it impossible to even entertain exploring their ant-sized version of an urban center. He'd even considered making his way over to the landowner's home and introducing himself more thoroughly to her daughter for a hot minute. Riku wasn't overtly social to begin with though and he wasn't confident he'd have much in common with someone as book-obsessed as the girl seemed to be, if her hours-long stints on the porch swing were any indication of overall personality.
There was always the possibility that he, Sora, and Kairi could hang together outside of school at some point. That might offer some form of reprieve from the gnawing ache of new-kid isolation that, despite best efforts, Riku hadn't been wholly successful with keeping at bay. It felt like such a cliché to him, this entire situation. The relocation wasn't even permanent, and he knew it. But try as he might to approach his temporary living situation in a more cogent light, his mind seemed hellbent on cheeking whatever pills of rationality he kept trying to encourage it to swallow.
Every. Single. Time. It almost wasn't worth the effort expended at this point, he couldn't help thinking when he was at his testiest.
He refused to believe it had more to do with being made to feel hopelessly vulnerable than simply being irritated about the unenlightened viewpoints flung in every direction around him by teachers and students alike.
Arriving in his Physics classroom with a few minutes to spare, Riku glanced around the room at the students who'd already arrived. Most ignored him, their eyes down or fixed on people they were already chatting with. The few who did return his gaze kept their expressions unreadable, blank slates hiding any number of thoughts about the outsider with strange clothes and an accent that simply screamed affluent West Coast.
At the far end of the room, a boy with mussed blond hair sat slouched, eyes trained at the nearest window but not discernibly focused on anything, all the while rapping his splinted finger to an unidentifiable tempo directly against the sharp corner of his desk table.
I dunno know how they do it out west, but here, we got our own effective way of handlin' queers.
It wasn't enough to just be quiet, to try to slide under the radar. He could acknowledge that the mess with Hayner had been completely on him, but it was just as true that some people seemed to take offense at his mere presence, and there was nothing he could feasibly do to rectify it, regardless of how much Sora was trying to help.
Without a word, Riku slid his messenger bag up over his head, then deposited it at the foot of the table he'd been assigned on his first day. It could be worse, he thought, trying to buoy the belief that none of this was as awful as it seemed as he pulled the chair out and lowered himself into his seat.
No matter how ostracized and misunderstood he felt now, he reminded himself, it could always, invariably, get so much worse.
o - o
If there was ever a high school experience that transcended provincial differences, gym class had to be it. There were probably a few athletic activities that were region-specific but for the most part, PE was like math — universal, no matter what part of the country you hailed from.
A fluent grasp of the English language wasn't necessary for it either, Riku noted with a touch of cynicism, still mindful of some of the ignorant comments he'd fielded since his arrival.
It wasn't that he was great at basketball by any means, but there were sports he was definitely worse at. He had developed good hand-eye coordination training in water polo over the years, so at least he'd be able to catch any balls thrown his way, he figured. He'd changed out of his street clothing before class without speaking to anyone in the locker room, tying his hair back behind his head with a small band to keep it out of his way just like he did back home, then made his way into the adjoining gymnasium area.
Students were congregating in small groups in the general location where the instructor was standing, clipboard in hand. From Riku's vantage point, it seemed that there was a subtle social hierarchy among his classmates, much like in his last school. He just didn't know enough yet to take a stab at which group equated with each traditional high school trope. Again, he hung back, close enough to the instructor for him to be aware of a new student's presence, but not making an effort to insert himself into already-existing groups or conversations. Apart from Pence, a boy who'd sat with Hayner at lunch on his first two days, Riku didn't initially spot anyone he knew by name beyond simply recognizing a good number from periods when he was scheduled for more substantive lessons.
A quick glance toward the bleachers also confirmed that the guy with the injured hand was still benched. Having just entered the gym through a different door still in street clothes, he was making his way into an area about midway up a row of seats.
It wasn't until his gaze traveled away from the bleachers and back over toward the instructor that Riku spotted a student who made him freeze in place, the neutral expression he'd been trying his best to maintain momentarily faltering before he could catch himself.
He was coming from the locker room, a small cadre of other students trailing closely behind. His blond hair and well-defined physique were the picture of an Abercrombie ad about half a decade out of date. Given how much he'd been heckled by the guy over the past few hours, Riku was honestly surprised he hadn't noticed him before today. He'd remained quiet all morning, suppressing the urge to respond back with anything beyond one or two word answers to what he'd initially thought were legitimate questions posed out of curiosity. Once he'd realized they were more realistically lead-ups to what amounted to bile given verbal form, he'd been less forthcoming, had just let the pointed taunting wash over him while trying his genuine best not to react to anything. It'd have been different if this were happening in California where he had his own group of friends to back him up. In a new, unfamiliar social environment, he'd thus far had to deal with it quietly and hope it didn't develop into something more physical over time.
Spotting Riku, the boy's expression darkened. In light of the gym teacher's proximity, however, he said nothing.
As the period got underway, the gym teacher wasted no time in sorting Riku into a preexisting team of students, which thankfully didn't include the racist Abercrombie model or any of the people he seemed to consider friends. At the teacher's instructions, each member of Riku's newly assigned group introduced themselves. Still distracted by the vestiges of insults from earlier that morning, the only names he managed to commit to memory were of a girl named Selphie, who he recalled from Kairi's mention on Tuesday, and Tidus, a guy with sandy blond hair.
They headed over to their assigned area of the gym, complete with a basketball hoop all their own and boundaries that were outlined in colored tape across the floor. Where other teams yelled and whooped at each other during gameplay, Riku's group practiced in relative silence. He tried to recall if he'd seen this set of students being more talkative over the past two days prior to his inclusion, but between paying attention to the game and the distraction of his earlier encounters, he couldn't remember. He also wasn't sure if it mattered in the long run. They were including him in gameplay, at least. It was a start, however small.
Over the course of the hour, they fell into a pattern of quiet cooperation. None of his teammates made much effort to engage him in conversation, but Riku couldn't really say he minded. It was harder to get insulted or called an uncreative but still biting slur if no one felt inclined to open their mouths to talk to him at all.
Before this morning, Riku had never encountered anti-gay attitudes held with such apparent fervor. The term queer in particular was one he'd never heard used in a pejorative sense. He'd always assumed it was just another way to define someone as something other than straight. At least, he'd heard it used at LGBT demonstrations and events back home relatively often, and the participants had seemed proud to refer to themselves under that definitional framework.
The tone that guy had used when directing it his way hadn't been accepting or inclusive. No question. It'd made Riku bristle, felt like an unequivocal, pointed insult. In a place like San Francisco, Riku hadn't felt the need to label himself, and his parents were progressive enough that he'd never spent sleepless nights debating what they might think if he ultimately came to the conclusion that he was something besides straight. They were more likely to ream him out over a less than acceptable exam score than who he chose to date. As long as it didn't interfere with his studies, he didn't have much to worry about. The notion that something as immutable as sexual orientation might be seen in a negative light somewhere else in the country, quite frankly, had never crossed his mind, at least until now.
Not to mention that it was hella misguided to assume anything about someone based on their clothing choices or hair length, in his view. People here were a decade behind the times, maybe more.
Trying to force his attention to remain on the game, Riku watched Tidus pass the ball toward Selphie, throwing it more gently than he knew his classmate was capable of. She caught the ball a little clumsily but held onto it, dribbling toward the hoop in front of her as her teammates gave her some space. Coming to a stop almost directly under the hoop, Selphie furrowed her brows and stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated and took aim.
Bending her knees in the midst of a projected wind-up, Selphie threw the ball more like someone might pitch a baseball rather than aiming and using her wrists to direct the ball toward the hoop.
She wasn't even close, unless you counted the fact that the ball did manage to impact the hoop's metal rim. It ricocheted in an unanticipated direction, off toward the bleachers lining the far wall of the gymnasium. She glanced at Riku out of the corner of one eye, and he noted the corresponding flush forming on his classmate's cheeks without a word. Nearby, Riku caught sight of Tidus and another member of their group. Both seemed to be attempting to stifle grins at what had just taken place rather unsuccessfully.
Shooting Selphie what he hoped was a friendly, non-judgmental half-smile, Riku turned to the rest of his group. "I'll go get it," he offered. When no one objected, he turned and sprinted over toward the bleachers where the ball had ultimately ended up rolling. For someone as small as Selphie, she had certainly put enough force behind her shot to send the ball completely across the sizable room. It was a thought that was followed by a tinge of amusement and the realization that this was the first time he'd found himself enjoying something about his new school beyond study hall with Kairi and Sora. Riku supposed it was a subtle sign that he just might be making some form of progress.
He didn't look up as he neared the ball by the bottom bleacher seat, even though he was aware of the student a few rows above him and even sensed the boy's eyes on him. They had the majority of their classes together, except for English during Riku's first period and maybe one other lesson, but neither had yet said a word to one another, despite Riku's impression from the boy's repeat presence at lunch that he and Hayner were friends.
Leaning over, he reached for the ball that had come to a stop a few inches from the bottom row of bleachers. Its velocity had slowed upon impact, and the ball was now making lazy, erratic loops in place as its momentum gradually dissipated. Without further consideration, Riku grabbed it in one hand and straightened up.
He saw the orange blur of an airborne basketball in his peripherals but couldn't completely dodge out of its speeding path in time to avoid it. The ball connected with his shoulder, his neck snapping back in a reflexive chain-reaction. It was nothing short of a miracle that he'd managed to keep the basketball secured in his arm given the unanticipated nature of the impact he'd just suffered.
"Not as light on your feet as a cocksucker rightly should be, Hollywood, are ya?"
That voice. By now, it had the ability to cut the distance from his shoulders to ears almost in half in one tense, rising motion if he wasn't paying requisite attention to his body's own involuntary movements. Neck aching, Riku turned to face his assailant. Arms crossed over his chest, expression openly smug, the guy was flanked by a couple other students who seemed to be in the active process of stifling laughter with varying degrees of adeptness.
Riku let his eyes travel past the group, over the heads of others still playing basketball games, until he finally located the gym teacher far across the room. Chances were next to nil that the instructor had heard the inflammatory comment or even seen the action that had preceded it.
Fucking great.
Eyes narrowing, Riku took a step forward, the fingers of his free hand flexing into a fist before releasing as he reminded himself that initiating a fight on school grounds would not do him any favors. There was also a high probability that a physical altercation was exactly what this guy wanted.
"Seriously?" The word was spoken with incredulity, a quiet expression of his disbelief that anyone would stoop to such juvenile conduct. This extended beyond fielding insults and bordered on actionable behavior in his view. He wanted to say more, to give this guy a true piece of his mind, but Riku's throat constricted, his inherent reticence holding him back with a subtle but effective warning that continuing down this path most likely wouldn't end well if he didn't want to add a school suspension to his record.
Before he could determine the most appropriate course of action, someone cut in.
"Last I checked, it takes two to suck dick, but only one to be a righteous hypocrite."
The voice had come from behind him, its tone a languid drawl, emphasizing the message in the most indifferent way possible. Out of the corner of his eye, vision still blurred with the heat of ire he'd forcibly internalized, Riku saw a mottle of blond hair, blue eyes, and white, athletic arm sleeves.
In front of him, his assailant's expression turned dark. "Stay out of this, Strife, unless you want another broken finger."
Unsure how to respond, or if he should even consider jumping in to fight his own fight, Riku took a few half steps back. It allowed him to better keep an eye on both classmates. Neither made a move toward the other, although the benched student did rise from his seat. Riku watched as he hopped a few rows of bleachers down, closer to everyone else involved.
"Oh, Mr. Almasy." The boy sighed, brows rising until they almost disappeared beneath a crown of flaxen hair. "You don't call. Never write." His face turned mock-sorrowful. Nearby, Riku found himself staring as a student he'd hardly heard say more than a handful of words over the past couple days went into full-on snark mode.
"With all this indecorous talk of blowjobs and the like, I just don't rightly know what to think 'cept that maybe you've got someone else on the side." Blue eyes widening, his register rose in perfect mimicry of a distraughtly lovesick Southern belle. He clasped his hands in front of him, the gesture almost comical in light of his splinted finger. "Tell it to me straight, hun. I need to know — are you cheatin' on me? Is this the end of us?"
A few feet away, the boy he was addressing had gone rigidly still, eyes narrowing as his friends looked between the two speakers with overt uncertainty. Although he didn't know them, Riku had a sneaking suspicion the baffled expressions implied that they weren't quite catching on to the sense of satire woven with indulgence throughout the boy's words. Riku found himself holding his breath, somewhat stunned by what was taking place, wondering if he should speak up before he or his blond interlocutor got another basketball thrown straight at their faces.
The gym teacher beat him to it.
"Roxas Strife!" the instructor hollered, voice carrying with impressive force from the opposite end of the gym. "It's not called sittin' out if you're standing there flapping your mouth."
A bare minimum of three sets of eyes redirected to where the teacher stood, arms crossed and expression stern, but no one initially moved. Riku noted the curious gazes of the other gym students and a notable lack of the standard sounds associated with continued gameplay. By now, it was abundantly clear that everyone was watching. With one last murderous glance in his direction, Outdated Abercrombie and his merry band of fashion-sense rejects retreated back to the other side of the gym.
And then there were two.
The student who'd just been dubbed Roxas glanced over at Riku. "Hey, Pikachu, here's a tip you can take to the bank." His voice was low, tone thickening into an almost incomprehensible inflection that seemed nothing short of a performance for Riku's express benefit. Briefly, he wondered if his classmate was a theatre enthusiast, given his penchant for exaggerated dramatics. "Don't take things so personal," the boy continued. "Seifer calls everyone a queer. He'd say it to his own mamma if she weren't dead and it suited his present agenda."
Across the room, the instructor's expression hardened, Riku noting it out of the corner of one eye with increasing apprehension.
"You that eager to get a write-up, Strife, this close to graduation?"
"No, sir!" Roxas looked up, saluting the teacher as he hopped a few rows upward and settled himself back into his previous seat. His eyes met Riku's a moment later, expression just as impassive as ever. All the energy and emotion he'd put into his little act of love unrequited had vanished, his eyes reflecting back Riku's way as inhospitable now as they'd always been blue.
As Riku tucked his group's basketball under one arm more securely, he gave his classmate one final, bemused look. "Thanks," he said, the sentiment genuine, albeit hesitant.
With a subtle roll of his eyes, Roxas moved his gaze elsewhere, dropping his chin into his palms seemingly without regard for how it bent back his injured finger as he looked back down toward the other side of the gymnasium. "Yeah, whatever."
Glancing back toward the instructor, acutely aware of the increasing irritation in his body language, Riku turned and made his way back over to his assigned team, actively avoiding a look over to where Seifer and his friends stood silent and observing. He could feel the intensity of their gazes well enough by now to know that he was still being watched.
o - o
He arrived in study hall in a mood darkly dense enough to rival a black hole's crushing void. Both Kairi and Sora looked up at his arrival, Sora offering him a smile and Kairi nodding minutely before returning to what looked like assigned reading for English. A pair of earbuds snaked down from each side of her head and connected with her flip phone on the table, although if she was listening to music, it was on a volume low enough that the sound didn't travel.
Riku made a half-hearted attempt at returning Sora's smile as he slipped out of his messenger bag and placed it on the table, drawing back the flap to its main compartment and pulling out his own English text and notes. He didn't think he could stomach dealing with history readings right now when he was already tempted to want to scribble out each ambiguously described reference to the Confederacy's resounding virtues with the reddest pen he owned. He supposed he should feel relieved that he hadn't had to endure Biology. At this point, he wasn't convinced he'd deal well with the potential of class lectures covering concepts in direct opposition to the well-established facts of evolution.
Taking a seat and moving his backpack to the floor, Riku opened his English textbook to the first page of assigned readings, his eyes traveling over the words without processing any of them. By his side, Sora audibly shifted, and he could suddenly sense eyes on him, a feeling that was beginning to rankle considerably in light of his experiences throughout the rest of this endless day. Nearby, Kairi sat, bare knees folded on the chair underneath her in a position that didn't look remotely comfortable given that she was wearing another short skirt. Her forearms lay flat on the table as she leaned forward to study her textbook, a hint of cleavage peeking out of another noisy-colored bra visible to anyone who glanced in her general direction.
"How's your day been?" Although his voice was a whisper, Riku could hear a smile in Sora's spoken tone. Even Sora's upbeat optimism wasn't going to get him out of his current funk though, as far as he was concerned.
He offered his classmate a light shrug but didn't look up. "It was fine."
The words hung in the air between them, thick with sentiments unspoken. Despite Riku's attempt to keep his tone neutral, it was far more difficult to school his body language to match it. He wasn't a gift to the dramatic arts like Roxas, couldn't feign a level of indifference that toed the line between sincerely-held and merely Oscar-worthy. The silence persisted long enough for Riku to feel it could realistically undergo its own form of evolution into a perceivable substance between them. The nebulous prickle of Sora's gaze remained fixed on him, and now more than ever Riku could see the merit in developing the type of external shell that it seemed like Roxas had already perfected long ago.
"You look tired."
Riku glanced to his right, took in Sora's appraising look. "I did just come from gym."
Brows almost meeting one another at the bridge of his nose as they furrowed, Sora quirked his head, still seemingly considering something. "Is that all? You seem pretty athletic to be tired out by an hour's worth of shooting balls."
More like dodging dicks with a low rate of success, actually…
"It's been a long week," Riku murmured, eyes returning with determination to his text as he reached out and pulled the hardbound book closer to him. "I'm still trying to get used to the daily schedule, I guess."
Riku didn't for a second believe Sora bought the explanation, and for once he found himself wishing the one guy who'd been outwardly nice to him so far here at school didn't have the mental acuity to turn theories about his current frame of mind into unequivocal verities. On his other side, Kairi hummed quietly, her upper body swaying in time with a song only she could hear, either oblivious to the tension building between her two classmates or otherwise indifferent to its obvious existence.
They lapsed into a silence as strained as Riku's aching neck, Sora ultimately returning to his own study materials while Riku unsuccessfully tried to focus on English. His thoughts drifted, making it difficult to concentrate. Between a full day's worth of traversing school grounds and trying to remember routes between classes without the benefit of a guide, coupled with how unprepared he'd been to handle the outright bile in verbal form from that Seifer guy, Riku couldn't help but feel like he was taking more steps backward rather than leaping in the direction of social acceptance at this school. It was nice that Sora was friendly and seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him, he conceded, but one person who showed up in a small minority of his classes couldn't counter the encroaching feeling that all he really had in store for him promised to encompass the longest, most trying few months of his life to date.
Graduation, a one-way trip back to the West Coast, and a return to an overall mentality that he was more accustomed to couldn't come soon enough at this point.
The period had almost fully expired by the time Riku heard Sora clear his throat. As with countless other times today, he felt eyes on him. This time, Riku glanced up.
Sure enough, Sora was regarding him, his front two teeth visible over his bottom lip as he bit it lightly, probably an unconscious action performed while he seemed to be thinking something through with considerable care.
For an extended moment, the two boys regarded one another, Sora working over his lower lip, eyes wide and trained directly on his new classmate. His eyes still had a fathomless quality to them that Riku found disorienting. Their coloring struck a chord of inexplicable familiarity, but it was more than that. They were just …so blue. Even beyond the irises, Sora's eyes seemed full of the color, giving the boy a preternatural mien. Riku was having difficulty deciding whether it was mesmerizing or something closer to unsettling.
Nearby, Kairi's soft humming resumed. It broke the attentive spell both boys had fallen under with unconscious efficiency, and it was now Riku's turn to clear his throat, the sound further adding to the air of developing awkwardness between the both of them. Sora's gaze dropped a few inches, and Riku was treated to the sight of delicate lashes, in tandem with a better view of his classmate's messy crown of sienna-brown hair.
"There's going to be a party outside of town after school on Friday," Sora said, still not meeting Riku's eyes. It was the first time he'd seen his classmate look doubtful in his delivery of anything from crucial school information to joking observations about Riku's social solecisms. "It's just for seniors," he forged on, words tumbling out at a faster pace and with more Southern inflection than Riku was accustomed to hearing from him. "Kairi and I were thinking of going, and I thought you might want to join us?" Sora stole a glance up at Riku. "It might be a way to get to know people better," he added. "Maybe even relax."
Expression neutral, Riku noted that Kairi had pulled one earbud out and popped a piece of chewing gum into her mouth as she listened to their exchange without a word of contribution on her part.
Riku tried to choose his words carefully. "I'm not really sure if I'm going to have the energy for a party after this week."
Sora's expression dropped in response, and Riku felt the immediate urge to kick himself as a direct consequence. He'd never felt bad about turning down plans with friends before, but there was something about that disappointed look that hit him deeper than he was used to. His only guess as to its origin was the simple knowledge that Sora was going above and beyond anyone else at this school to make him feel welcome. Now Riku was deflecting another idea that might help him better assimilate, and for what reason? So he could mope around a house that didn't feel like home, with nothing to do beyond continuing to unpack or trying to reach a distracted Kadaj via iPhone?
Yeah, that was real mature on his part.
"It's not that kind of party," Kairi cut in, her words spoken around a wad of mint green chewing gum that performed a gelatin peep show every time she opened her mouth to contribute.
Both boys looked at her. She stared back at Riku specifically, expression subtly arch.
"You're imaginin' lights and dancing and clubs, right?"
When Riku didn't immediately respond, she blew a small bubble. As it popped, she directed her eyes skyward in a clear demonstration of exasperation.
"This won't even be in a house. We're just going to the marshes outside of town to let off some steam, and smoke, and eat."
"…oh." The word was spoken softly, Riku's mouth forming more a hint of what he'd said than his actual voice. Like a devoted dog, Sora's eager nod followed closely on the heels of the single word utterance.
"There'll probably be some music, maybe even dancing if people end up drinking enough," Sora conceded, "but it's meant to be low-key. You don't even have to talk to anyone outside the group you go with. Not if you don't want."
Riku looked between the two of them, noting Sora's increasingly hopeful expression along with Kairi's lip-smacking indifference about his decision one way or the other.
Still, Riku hesitated. "I …don't exactly have a way to get anywhere. We have a rental but my parents haven't gotten around to car shopping yet."
Sora clasped his hands together, his smile widening. A few students nearby looked up at the sound. By now most seemed accustomed to Sora's exuberant responses, particularly in Riku's presence. Unlike on Tuesday, no one bothered to hush him this time.
"Leave the ride stuff to me," he said, expression eager, excited. "I can let you know all those details tomorrow."
Riku only made it through half a nod before Sora started chattering again.
"Or…" He paused, features turning thoughtful. "I could text you tonight, if you want to swap numbers?"
This time Riku did get a nod in. "Sure. That works."
They passed off their devices, Sora pausing to examine Riku's iPhone between two thin hands. "Is this the model that just came out?"
"Yeah." Riku inclined his head in affirmation, before glancing at Sora's offering now in the palm of his own hand. It was also an iPhone but at least three generations behind his, practically an artifact by Silicon Valley standards. Not commenting on it, he set to work creating a new contact with his information while Sora did the same on his end, even going so far as to snap a selfie of himself on the forward-facing camera to include with his details. Once done, he held the phone out toward Riku with a bright smile and they exchanged devices, hands briefly touching before they returned to their rightful places in each boy's respective lap.
Riku turned toward Kairi to offer her his phone but was waved off. "I'll get it later from him." She inclined her head toward Sora without more than a minute glance up from her textbook.
With his phone screen still lit up, Riku looked down at the information Sora had entered, eyes skimming the number's local area code and passing over the goofy expression gracing the area reserved for the contact's photo, before rising up to the name that'd been typed in. As his eyes traveled past the familiar letters of the first name, he paused, then looked back up at Sora.
"Your last name's Strife?"
Thick tresses of brown hair bobbed in response with Sora's nod. "And yours is …Kimura." He enunciated the three syllables carefully, then looked up. "Did I say that right?"
"Perfectly, actually." The smile that followed was his first genuine expression of the day. It wasn't a difficult surname to pronounce by any means, but every single school administrator and teacher who'd tried to say it since his arrival had treated it like they were trying to decipher hieroglyphics from a long lost civilization. Leave it to Sora to be the first person in this town to get it right. It seemed somehow appropriate.
Looking down at his phone again, his eyes settled on the digital clock at the top of the screen, noting it was just about the time when he was supposed to be out in front of the school waiting for his mom. Her schedule was so inflexible, she couldn't really afford even a few minute's delay on his part.
Standing and retrieving his messenger bag, Riku shoved his English text into its main compartment. "I have to run," he said, speaking more to Sora than Kairi. "But yeah, definitely text when you have more info about tomorrow night. Or just for whatever." He paused long enough to see Sora's eager nod and to offer a quick wave to Kairi before shouldering his bag and walking hurriedly in the direction of the front of school. Already out of the library and well on his way toward the pick-up area, it was only then that Riku finally remembered he hadn't actually managed to get any form of clarification about Sora's last name.
o - o
The text from his mother arrived when Riku was halfway to the student pick-up area, the only reason he even saw it with his phone on silent being that he still had the phone out, staring at Sora's small picture while still considering the unexpected surname.
Reading the single, apologetic sentence, Riku turned and found himself making his way back toward the library and texting his mom simultaneously to let her know he'd circle back to the school's front entrance in a little under an hour.
It wasn't unusual for her to get caught up at work; back home, it happened with mundane regularity. In San Francisco, Riku had never relied on his parents to pick him up from school though, and he had a handful of options at his disposal to pass the time if he didn't feel like heading straight home. More often than not, he'd meet up with Kadaj or some of his friends, they'd go grab dinner together, then find a cafe to sit down in and chat, maybe even get a head start on the next day's schoolwork.
Here in Radiant Hollow, with the current rental residence miles away from anything other than the landlord's own home and the humidity already impressively oppressive despite it not even being summer yet, Riku's only realistic option was to return to the library.
At least now he might have the opportunity to actually do some English homework, he thought. Or maybe just talk to Sora again to wile away what time remained before his mother arrived.
And Kairi, his mind helpfully supplied.
Yeah. Kairi too, he supposed.
He returned to the library, making his way through the stacks by retracing his steps to the table he, Kairi, and Sora had been studying at. It was down one brown-haired, blue-eyed, perpetually optimistic, Sora-shaped classmate.
Kairi looked up from her textbook and eyed him. "You're back."
"I am." Riku nodded, then pulled out the chair he'd been sitting at just a few minutes prior. He took a moment to scan the area immediately around them. "Sora left for the day?"
Eyes drifting back toward her book, Kairi smacked on her bubblegum for a few vigorous chews before answering. "Had an appointment, of sorts. He's riding with me and mine when he gets done."
"Ah." Riku reached for his own English homework, fishing it out of his bag and flipping to the assigned reading for the second time in the span of an hour. "I think I saw you get dropped off on my first day. Was that your brother?"
It was possible he was being intrusive, but Kairi didn't strike him as someone who had anything to hide — or someone who would have any hesitation telling him to butt out if she didn't want to talk about something in particular.
To his relief, Kairi glanced back over at him with the same placid expression she'd sported prior to his question. Sliding off her knees and smoothing out the third pink skirt she'd worn in as many days, she leaned forward, treating him to more cleavage than someone her size should realistically have been in possession of. Mercifully, her arm blocked the view a moment later as she placed her elbow on the table and propped her chin up in the cupped palm of one hand.
"Not my brother," she said, jaw still working over the chewing gum, her quiet words slightly distorted as a direct result. "He's a cousin, once removed. Goes by Axel LaChappelle."
With one brow rising of its own volition, Riku leaned a little closer to catch each word of her response. He wasn't entirely clear on what 'once removed' meant, but there was something else about her explanation that struck him as odd.
"You're not on a first name basis?" he asked, finally pinpointing what had seemed off about the familial reference.
Kairi popped a bubble, then shrugged. Riku was close enough to her now to notice the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and peeking under the sheer fabric on her cap-sleeved shoulders. He might have noticed days ago, but her collection of neon colored and animal print bras had been distracting enough to have provided more than enough motivation to keep his gaze directed elsewhere whenever possible.
"It's just what he goes by on account of his profession."
In the silence that followed, Riku considered the possibility that he was speaking to someone whose cousin cooked meth out of a double-wide trailer with questionable ventilation. He wasn't sure whether to laugh at the image or simply be glad he'd caught himself before he had actually given voice to the thought. Something told him that would be an effective way to make an immediate enemy out of someone who might otherwise be edging more toward the border of potential friend territory.
"What does he do?" he asked instead, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his expression more tolerant than mockingly indulgent.
Another few beats of chewing her gum, then Kairi responded. "He's an artist."
Well. That cleared everything up.
Riku actually knew his fair share of self-proclaimed artists in San Francisco. They were usually hipsters who wrote bad poetry or painted abstract designs they liked to think conveyed messages of deep profundity. He was having a difficult time imagining a guy with fire hydrant hair and a penchant for classic rock fitting neatly into his conception of what most artists claimed to encompass.
Then again, he also couldn't imagine friendly, articulate Sora being even distantly related to someone who seemed to be comprised of equal parts indifference and outright snark, yet they both seemed to be inexplicably linked by that one identical surname, so Riku was willing to acknowledge that his assumptions might not be infallible. He just wasn't interested enough to clarify further at this point — at least not when it came to Kairi's cousin.
Sora, on the other hand…
Riku leaned back in his chair, eyes still on his classmate.
"Can I ask you an unrelated question?"
Raising her free hand and forming a two-fingered gun, Kairi closed one eye like she was taking aim directly at Riku's heart. "Sure, slick." She dropped her thumb as though pulling an imaginary trigger. "Shoot for the stars."
"Okay…" Riku drew out the word, uncertain whether the gesture was a light-hearted joke or if it was a veiled warning not to pry into the wrong subject, because, of all the people he'd met, Kairi sure had one hell of a superb poker face, and he already had no doubt that half of his classmates were proud, card-carrying members of the NRA. The Second Amendment seemed on par with supplemental biblical reading material in this town. In light of that, Kairi's mimed gesture held a slightly more ominous note.
Yet, Riku really wanted to know.
"So, there's this guy in my gym class. His name's Roxas."
Kairi dropped her hand and regarded him straight on. "That's not a question."
Pursing his lips, Riku inclined his head in acknowledgement before continuing. "I was wondering if he was related to Sora. Like a cousin, maybe. Or something?"
"They're brothers," Kairi said without preamble. "Twins actually." Eyeing Riku, she shot him a sly smile. "Why? Can'tcha tell?"
Trying to pull up the image of scowling, sarcastic Roxas alongside Sora's smiling, openly welcoming expression, Riku found himself floundering. The only thing the two had even remotely in common was eye color and even that differed somehow in his estimation.
"Not…really…"
When Kairi didn't respond, Riku hurried to supplement.
"I mean, I don't know much about either of them, obviously, but Roxas just seemed a little…"
Kairi raised her eyes, fluttering her lashes in a way that seemed a put-on characterization mixing crafty with a pinch of demure. "Like someone's just rammed a stick straight up his backside, but it's a permanent fixture?"
Unable to help himself, Riku felt a small smile form. "Yeah. That sounds about right, actually."
Shrugging again, Kairi made a grab for her phone, then sat back. "That's our Roxas. He's got a mouth on 'im, no one's denying. I'm guessing you know that by now too."
Without a word, Riku confirmed her statement with a quick nod.
She clicked on her phone's display and eyed the time. "Precious, innit?"
Precious wasn't exactly the word he would have chosen, personally.
Riku didn't have a chance to answer what had seemed like a rhetorical question anyway, because Kairi was rising out of her chair a beat later. "Time for me to get goin'," she said, gathering up her textbook and notes and shoving everything into her over-large purse without apparent concern about crushing her other belongings. "See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you…" Riku echoed, although she'd skipped off so quickly he couldn't be sure Kairi had even heard him.
He glanced down at his own phone, and saw that his mother had texted an estimated time of arrival a few minutes earlier. Her ETA wasn't so far off from now that he couldn't start prepping to leave himself. Accounting for the extra time it'd take for his mom to get here, even if Radiant Hollow's concept of rush hour traffic just meant six more people on the road than on off-hours, Riku took his time to pack up his belongings.
Sliding the messenger bag over his head, Riku began retracing his steps back toward the front of the school. He spent the time traversing the mostly empty halls considering the new information he now had at his disposal, but still couldn't wrap his head around the revelation that Sora was not only related to Roxas but that the two were one another's apparent counterpart. They seemed so different to him that no amount of asserting the information as an unassailable fact was helping Riku get any closer to actually believing it on more than the most superficial of levels.
As he turned the final corner into the school's main corridor, Riku made a beeline for the double doors that would be his portal back home — or at least what amounted to his home in this foreign milieu. Beyond the glass doors, he could see an old rusted pick-up truck idling at the street curb. Even at this distance, the faintest hint of unnaturally red hair was visible on the driver's side of the vehicle.
A movement caught his attention and Riku directed his gaze toward its origin over at the gym building on the opposite side of the school. Hands on the metal door latch, he froze mid-push the moment he processed what he was seeing.
Releasing the handle and allowing the door to click back into place, he moved to the corner of its frame not only to conceal himself but also to get a better glimpse at the pair of students approaching the truck.
Kairi and Sora were easy enough to recognize. It was the slowness of their plotted course that gave him pause. With Kairi standing directly in Riku's line of sight, Sora was blocked almost completely from view at first as they walked side by side. Even so, Riku could tell something was off with his classmate's gait; it was uneven and labored, in direct opposition to what he was already accustomed to seeing as a natural facet of Sora's upbeat demeanor. As the two arrived in front of their ride, Kairi moved a few steps ahead. She reached for the truck's door, opened it, and then turned back to her friend. It was only then that Riku got a good look at Sora full-on, only in that moment that he realized the lopsided pace was, quite plainly, the result of his classmate's reliance on a pair of forearm crutches clutched tightly like a lifeline against both attenuated arms.