OH HAY.

SO I HELPED FRANK WRITE THIS AND SINCE HE HAS GIVEN UP ON PANIQ AT THE CRISCO I AM REPOSTING AND CONTINUING.


::CHAPTER ONE::

My eyes open, permanently ending the last of summer slumber. I've woken up to September, and my senior year of high school. This is the final book in my free-education series and the first chapter starts today.

I'm the narrator, and this is just the prologue.

I kick the sheets down to my ankles and stretch, arching my back and feeling my tendons crack. My arms and legs, enlongated over the years, now hang over the sides of the mattress. I still haven't perfected carrying my awkward lanky body, that fact that I have to attempt this in public today gives me a good reason to stay in bed.

If I was in charge of some form of government, I'd make it legal to walk around in your boxers. Because right now that's all i'm in, sunk into this old mattress and feeling pretty damn good. The fan to my right makes this moment even more serene and I could stare at my ceiling for hours in a trance, counting the dots.

Damn alarm clock.

Go meet my closet.

Six-thirty blurrs across the scape.

Alright, fine, meet the wall.

It's fucked.

This is the last year I have to wake up early, and thinking this, it gives me energy to actually get up. No, wait, not quite there. I'm up, propped on one elbow. A gargantuan hand rubs the sleep from my face, a bit prickly. Maybe I should shave for the sake of first impressions on new people.

Looking across my room, to my window, there's writing on the panel. I swing both my feet off the bed and rub more sleep from my face before attempting to read a message: Are you awake yet? in tall, slanted letters. I yawn and write 'NO' with my breath, just to make him laugh. Pants would be a good idea about now. I rummage around until I pick up a lucky contender, free from the dead mass it was just sitting in. 'Liar' replaces the former words on the window.

I should really do some laundry.

I grip the border of my window and slide it open, making it out to be a bigger deal than it really was. I pretend to be straining and push my cheek into it, making a squeaking sound with the glass. I hear him laugh the word dork.

I stick my torso out the window, and it's windy. An excessive mull of hair blinds me before I see Ryan smirking from below. I pretend to spit on him.

"You're up too early." I whine, pretending to leave.

"I'm used to the high expectations of private school, remember?"

"Oh shit. I totally forgot you're coming to Pablo Verde this year!" I really did forget. Some best friend I am. We'll actually be going to the same school for once.

I reach for Ryan and he locks his hands around my wrists. I mimic his move and haul him up the side of the house with a grunt. He slips a bit through my grasp and we both curse. Now a bit panicked, I hastily pull him through the window, making our bodies crash on my mountain of 'less than perfect' clothes.

He starts laughing.

"Why can't you use the door like everyone else?" I moan, removing a shirt from my face.

"Well, you've got those biceps you've always wanted, why are you complaining?" He throws another shirt at me and I pull it on, not really paying attention to it's cleanliness. I stretch my arms to the floor, secretly checking myself out.

He snorts.

I push him over before heading to the bathroom to shave.

Pulling myself towards the counter, I stare into the mirror. A single anti-freeze green eye stare back at me, morning glaze still lingering. The other hides behind the black curtain of bangs, I find myself tilting my head to find it. Ruffling the back of my hair, and take a pair of fingers to mend frayed ends. My hair's kinda long. I mean shit it's almost to my shoulders. Whatever.

Shaving cream.

Razor.

Work.

Ryan has propped himself up on the counter, a flattening iron in his hand. He twirls it around and speaks in a bored tone;

"My dad still won't let me get one of these, he thinks it makes me gay." He finishes his sentence with a flavor of disgust on the word gay and crosses his eyes.

I let out a snort as he brings the iron to his mane "Ryaaaan's a faaaag."

He stares at me with false annoyance. I can see him suppressing a smile.

"Faaa.."

Stare.

"Faaaaag."

Stare.

"Ryan's a..." I pick up a stick of eyeliner.

"DARREN'S A FAG!" He laughs, taking my bangs a bit too harshly and straightens them.

"I am not!" I wail in false agony, I think my sob was convincing, because Ryan's expression has changed to a state of panic...

"I know you're not a fag! Uh, you're going out with Becca aren't you?...how's Rebecca?" It was hard not to laugh at his stressed face.

"We're doing pretty good," I sniff, selling my sadness, "We went to the movies last week," My eyes flash to Ryan's phone on the counter, now I let my humor shine through my eyes, and change my voice to more serious tone, "Faggot, it's time for school."

His face brightens "Well...shit, let's go," He swipes his phone off the counter and looks at it, "we're gonna be late."

I laugh as I plan to pounce him.

I make my voice all seductive and push him against the mirror, "Com' on Ryan...we have time for a quickie." The brown of his eyes is easier to see when they're the size of dinner plates.

His whole body shudders and his face scrunches up into that, 'utterly disgusted-how dare you-you got to be kidding me-i might-throw up-and-shoot myself' face. It really is a sight. "Okay, stop it Darren. It's really creeping me out. Bad."

"I can never joke with you anymore! Of all the homophobes, myself included, I think you could be king, you've got it so bad."

He's still a little flustered, "Ren? SCHOOL?"

"Oh. Right." I flash him an excited smile, "Want to see how high we can get on the speedometer?"

Carmel hair, out of view. The sound of my stereo flooding the air.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: ChayNEE,

I like it

Can I be in it?
With Ryan or Jon?

looks good!!!

It looks good please continue

I remember this

:::CHAPTER 2::



The first week of school had to be the most boring thing I have ever lived through. Okay, I admit it wasn't that bad. Ryan got ridiculously lucky and is in all of my classes except for math, but that's just because he's a smart-ass and is taking Calculus.

The first week can be summed up sort of like so;

we stood dormant as we watched reams of freshman get paddled, screaming and small, they threatened seniors with lawyers and the professions of their parents.

Assigned seating in government landed Ryan and I seats next to what had to be the gayest guy to walk these halls. Designer clothes with the voice to match, you see him a lot by the lockers singing to himself. Fortunately, I got to sit behind him so my eyes were spared. Poor Ryan sits right next to him, leaning to the right ever so slightly with a wary watchful eye. Every time I threw a paper wad at the kid I could hear his cry of dismay as he turned around to see his offender. I couldn't have done it, I'm too busy taking notes. My smile almost ruins it though, cause I can hear Ryan laughing under his breath every time I do it.

Algebra 2 is my most boring class, partially responsible is the blatant lack of Ryan. While taking notes, some jock called me a fag and I just about punched him in the face. Just about. If you were sitting next to me, you would have seen my arms flex from under the table and my jaw tighten. 'Emo' got thrown around a couple times too. In other news, what could only be a whore or a cheerleader, invited me to a party down on Vista this weekend. Hopefully Ryan will be able to go. Lately George hasn't been too kind on letting him come to my house on the weekends, all hell might brake loose dare he go to a party.

Chemistry. Thank god we can pick our own seats in that class. The faggot's in there too, sitting right up front. Ryan and I sit in the very back of the room, next to the vials of hazardous shit. This is one class me and Ryan will definitely pay attention to, we're set on learning how to blow up things more efficiently than we already do. (The last week of summer it was a lawn mower, gas and orange juice. Definitely an awesome explosion.)

Spanish. Holy hell. It is the funniest thing ever to hear Ryan speak Spanish. Assigned seating. Ryan and I hold staring contests from across the room. Poor kid has to sit next to the fag.

Cafeteria food is something I can't get used to. Five days of it has taken it's toll on me, and I feel disgusting. Ryan and I have plans to flee the campus next week. Pizza? My house? Maybe. Food is thrown in fag's direction. It wasn't me throwing it though...and i'm serious. It's funny all the same.

English is nothing special. The perk is that we're faggotless. Ryan's a bit enthusiastic though, Fight Club in hand all week.

Music. Messing around all week with Ryan. My vocals are getting better, thank god. It's my easiest class by far. By some act of satan, gay-boy is in here, playing guitar and hitting bars better than me.

Fuck him, not to be taken literally.

Friday's bell has rung and it's the weekend. Ryan's up for the party so we head over to my house to study for a bit. That's what we're doing if anyone asks, studying. George agreed to it anyways. It ended up being ice cream and youtube until leaving for the party.

Vista. Music slams up against our ears and we step inside the house, instantly surrounded by reams of people. Familiar faces, uninvited freshman drunk on their first beer. Liquor is passed between people, people passed from liquor. There's a good amount of conversation over the music and Ryan leaves me in the middle of the room, destination unknown. I look around, and suddenly his disappearance isn't so random. Rebecca, long-time girlfriend of mine for a good two months now is no longer. Playing tonsil hockey with the jock from Algebra. My stomach wells, but I think twice about hitting the guy, I didn't just come here to get kicked out.

I step behind her and clear my throat. They break their slobber session and the jock's eyes narrow, glaring into mine. Becca turns around and lets out a squeak of terror and surprise. She stares at me, as if I had done the cheating. Instead of pushing him away, she tugs on his shirt and gives me the once-over.

"Faggot." She breathes, out of breath from the kiss. I might throw up.

"Last person I went out with was you! I thought I still was! What the fuck is this?! I am not a fuckin' homo!"

"James told me your a fag. I can't believe I didn't see it earlier." She says curtly, flipping her hair.

"What?!" I roar in rage, wondering how much she'll like this guy with the teeth knocked out of him.

His crackly, gruff voice breaks in, "Dude, it's pretty impossible not to see that."

Becca's shrill voice fills my ears, her face is crumpled, "I can't believe you, Darren."

"How can you believe him!? What's wrong with you Becca!"

That whore from math class puts an arm over my shoulder, this is probably her house by the way she walked through that crowd "Is there a problem here?" He eyes meet all of ours.

"My girlfriend is a whore, that's all." I spit venomously.

"Cheater?" She says in a slow, nasily voice.

Becca opens her mouth to say something, but the girl stops her with a finger.

"Well..." She fishes for a name...

"Darren."

"Darren, hey. You want to play a game with the rest of us later?" She motions to the whole room and flashes a smile. Blonde curls bounce on her shoulders as she tilts her head for an answer.

"Uh...sure?" I really don't know where this is going.

"Yay!" She squeaks. "Go have fun! I'll come get you when it's your turn." Handing me a square piece of paper, she parts the crowd and disappears.

Ryan walks up and hands me a drink. "That really sucks man, i'm sorry." I breathe all the air out of my lungs and run a hand through my hair, trying not to get upset.

He throws an arm over my shoulders and I shoot a glance at Becca. Thankfully, she's not paying attention.

"Becca thinks i'm a faggot!" I hiss, Ryan snorts in response.

"That's not funny!"

"I know. Fuckin' whore. Sorry."

I flip the paper in my hand, nothing special about it, it's just green.

"Apparently i'm playing a game later." I show him the paper.

"What is it?" He snatches the paper out of my hand, examines it, and frowns. He hands it back, "Any idea what for?"

"No." I down my drink and stick it in a passer-by's hood, unnoticed. Ryan somehow produced another drink for me.

He always ends up being the responsible one at parties. He'll drink nothing, but serve you all you want. He'll keep tabs and intervene if you need help. I down the second. The third. Ryan bites his lip as I finish the fourth.

Blondie appears and takes me by the hand. "It's your turn!" She laughs, skirting me away from Ryan. He just waves and laughs, probably at my fleeting expression.

She pulls me into a bedroom and I pull my hand out of hers.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

She starts cracking up, she's had her share of alcohol. "No, this is a really fun game, promise. I've given a bunch of girls around the party green slips that match yours. It's sorta like a blind date thing because...you will...uh. Be blind." She holds up a bandanna and I stare at her incredulously, "Seven minutes in heaven, minus the closet, plus all the girls' numbers, minus the faces....and time limit. They'll lock the door to keep out company. Got it? The only difference is that they get to see you."

What a thing to get back at Becca. "Uh, sure." I laugh, a little more enthusiastic than usual. Maybe it's the alcohol talking.

"There's a green piece of paper on the door so they know that they're in the right place." She lifts up the bandanna and my world goes black, I let out a laugh...yet I'm not entirely sure why.

She guides me to the bed and I sit cross-legged. It's really soft. It kinda creeps me out.

"Good luck Darren!" I hear the door shut, and I know that if I could seen her leave, I would have seen her wink.

I sit in silence.

A good ten...ten? Ten minutes later I hear the door open and shut. The definite click of the lock makes my heart drop. The bed sags to the left and a soft voice coos "Hey cutie."

"Hi." I manage, uneasy.

A small, cold hand touches my cheek and I flinch. Her breath is on my face and she smells like heavy liquor. It reeks. Her lips crash with mine and I can taste her lipstick. Lipstick just reminds me of sharks, why is lipstick made of of sharks? I think it's gross, to be honest. I touch the top of her head and her hair is thin and curly. She tries to open my mouth and i'm unwilling. She's hungry and demanding, I want nothing of this. I push her off and shake my head. I can feel her force the piece of paper in my palm.

I wait for the door to shut and I throw it as hard as I can.

I start to get up, but the door opens and shuts before I have chance to do anything. It locked a lot faster than the last time. Definitely scared. The stranger jumps on top of me and goes right for the back of my throat, kissing way too deep. She's soft and is bigger than the last, and smells of nicotine. I touch her cheek and feel a scar there. I kiss her back, and in reaction, she lets the whole weight of her body flatten me. I'm not that big to begin so this is really awkward. I stop kissing and she shoves the number down my jacket and leaves as fast as she came, giggling like mad.

Dizzy and disorientated, I try to get my head back. The jacket i'm wearing is suddenly too hot, the only cover over my torso, so unzip it and throw it hastily. It knocks something over in the room but I don't care. I want out.

I stand up and my head rushes, so I sit back down.

The door opens very slowly and the creak in the door is audible. Moments pass and nothing happens, so I let my voice crack into a "Hello?"

"Shhhhh."

More waiting. The lights turn off. Why hadn't the others turned it off? Were they supposed to? It's making me nauseatingly nervous. The door locks and I can barely hear footsteps approaching the bed.The mattress depresses very lightly, as if she's coming on slowly. I lay back down and close my eyes, preparing for the worst.

It doesn't come.

I feel a jacket sleeve cross over my stomach, fingertips too. Her breathing increases and she holds me in an embrace, warm breath ghosting my chest. It's sweet and appealing, a night and day difference from the last girl.

I feel her kiss my chest and my heart races. I can feel her smile and she does it again, more sure than the last time. She presses an ear against my chest. This is incredibly intimate. It almost makes me feel embarrassed.

She draws a trail of kisses and sucks on my collarbone, an involuntary moan escapes my lips. She sucks in air at the sound and I can feel her heart racing. I feel incredibly embarrassed now.

She kisses me. Strong and powerful. Insanely irresistible. I have never felt something that felt so natural. There passion is present in her kiss, the origin inplaceable. My jaw is incredibly strong as I kiss her back with a human need. I feel her smile as I do this, and can't help but smile myself. Her hands tangle in my hair and I reach for her face, now held in two hands.

Some beast in my unconsciousness reaches under her jacket, stomach so soft, so strong. My fingers trace a lowpoint on her hip and feel a diamond shaped scar, I go lower.... Probably too low than allowed. She freezes and draws in a quick breath. She breaks our kiss and slowly moves off the bed.

Her feet are fast as she goes for the door, and I manage a "Wait!"

She doesn't.

I tear the bandanna off my face and rush into the room. My eyes scan the room and most everyone is dancing and drinking, just as before. Not sure what I'm looking for, but a few girls wave at me. I have never seen them before in my life. Wait. Ugh. I've kissed them. Smeared lipstick on the bigger one, curly red hair on the other. I tear off into the crowds, away from them.

Thirty minutes later my search is hopeless and my head is screaming. I wander about until I find Ryan, smoking a joint with a few kids from our music class. It's best we go now. I'm going to be sick.

"Hey, Ryan."

He smiles and makes rings of smoke with his joint, "Heya, Ren."

I make my face crumple "Can we go now? I have a killer headache."

More smoke. "How was the game?"

"Not now..." I moan, taking him by the wrist and hauling him out the door...

Yes I deffinetly remember this

quote:

Originally posted by scampluvsryan:
Yes I deffinetly remember this

Good memories?

Update > two days.

Okay so.

I don't like the name Darren.

Re name him please.

William?

Y/N?

That might help you snag some Beckett fans.