Tuct Side - 2. Chapter 2

And, oh boy, would that statement ring true after the summer’s end.

{3 Months Later}

Saturday, May 26th, 2012

“You only have to remember the basics, bro. It won’t be that hard.”

Two hours ago, school had let out, officially ending their time as freshmen. Now, West, Kaspar, Justin, and Finn – since known as the “Jiving Four” to the rest of Tuct Side since their championship win – drove through town, courtesy of their team captain.

“Yeah,” Kaspar sighed deeply, “but what if they decided to up the stakes this year? Leave it to dumbass me to screw it all up.”

West gave his cousin a stern look. “Stop.”

“Kasleo, dude, if you keep saying stupid shit like that, you just might convince me you’re a dumbass after all,” Justin, settled horizontally in the back seat of the blond’s hatchback behind Finn, piped up, twirling a basketball on his finger.

“You’re not helping,” West turned to eye the brunette.

Justin ignored him as he continued. “You’re, like, the smartest guy in our class. The highest fuckin’ GPA. And you’re worried about a stupid driving test that you’ll no doubt breeze through? You got this, man! Right, Finnehugs?”

Finn, who was hunched on the car floor in front of Justin, reached over and patted the redhead’s shoulder supportively. “Every word spoken from a wise man.”

“See? If Justin Shoemaker is considered wise for some reason, then I wonder what they’d call you,” West smirked back at the brunette, who flipped off the blond in turn, but grinned, too, nonetheless.

Kaspar was quiet for a beat before sighing, his lips tilting upward. “I guess. Thanks, guys. I just-” then he froze, spotting something at their destination. “Du musst mich veräppeln! Come on!”

The others directed their sights to the basketball court up ahead and identified the “something,” or rather several someones, perched around a picnic table overlooking the local park. West’s lip curled in disgust as he saw plumes of smoke arise from a couple of them. He never saw the appeal in smoking, slowly obliterating your lungs for a momentary high.

Tuct Side was a divided town. On one side was occupied by the average, well-to-do families. White picket fences, polished cars, affluent buildings made up the eastern side of the Idaho town. The western side, however, has seen better days. There wasn’t a clear, visible line that separated the halves, but once one noticed the declining quality in their surrounding areas, it became obvious territories have been crossed.

And right now, as West parked his car in the lot nearby, five pairs of eyes locked onto the hatchback as if they knew their terrain had been breached. The quad climbed out, eyeing back the glaring group.

Bradvons Park owned the last vestiges of attractive property that was now possessed by the eastern half of Tuct Side. Above the land of freshly cut grass were a playground, tennis area in one corner, skating ramp in the other, and a pathway that bordered the entire area with wooden benches sitting before the edges. The constructions were nearly two decades old, but they were nowhere near being unusable. And to top it all off, music, which was usually hip-hop and R&B, played in the background until eleven.

However, it all belonged to the western side.

“Sorry, guys,” West addressed his friends. “Should have known they’d be here.”

Kaspar dismissed the apology with an elbow nudge to the arm. “Don’t worry about it, man. We ain’t afraid of those losers.”

“Should we wait for them to leave?” Finn asked, despite looking the most confident out of the four. He was always nervous around people he did not know, but he was well acquainted with the individuals they were about to come face to face with.

“Fuck, no! The Jiving Four aren’t pussies!”

“Hell yeah!” Justin slammed the basketball down a few times. “We’re fucking champs! Didn’t we beat Wildwood a while back? I bet they’re still bitter.”

Despite being the de facto leader of their quad, West knew he couldn’t fight off a decision when those two got all rambunctious. A braggart’s random bouts of overconfidence and the hedonism of a thrill-seeker were hard to beat.

“Alright, we’ll go, but no fistfights. They know they can’t touch us. I hate saying this, but they’re not as… well off as us, so the police will look at them first.”

“Untouchable,” Justin leered at the thought, earning a scowl from his captain.

“Maybe they’ll let us play with them,” Finn shrugged, still seeming less tense than the others. “A rematch.”

West pursed his lips. “Hopefully.”

The Jiving Four got into formation and marched forth to the heavy beat of Justin’s measured dribbling, West leading the charge, Kaspar and Finn flanking him, and Justin in the back, his tall form hovering protectively over the whole group.

Inspecting the quintet, most of them seemed to be of Hispanic descent. Despite their hoodlum appearance, they looked to be as young as West and his boys. The blond knew he had charm in many kinds of conversation, but his magic wouldn’t always work. Talking to others his age would make the incoming confrontation a whole lot easier.

“Hey!” West called out, completely undeterred when those five glares pinpointed on him. “Need a team to play against?”

The one with the longest limbs of their group – albeit lankier than Justin – scoffed, exhaling a cloud of cigarette smoke. “Nah. We’d beat your ass anyway.”

“Du Stück-”

West raised a hand to stop Kaspar’s tirade, keeping a smile on his face. “Okay. You mind if we test that theory?”

“You think you motherfuckers are better than us?” A shorter but stockier male snapped, his voice croaky, most likely from the cancer sticks in hand.

“Just wanna play ball, man. You game?”

“You-”

Justin groaned dramatically, now looking bored with the situation. “Man! All this talkin’ and no action! I get we destroyed your sore losing asses back a long time ago, but I expected we’d move past that. Shame, Wildwood, shame.”

“Schande,” Kaspar shook his head in mock disappointment.

The stocky one sprang up from his seat, his pale face reddening in anger. “Th’ fuck you say!?”

West sighed as he grabbed the basketball out of Justin’s hands. He could only hope the argument didn’t blow over into fists. He searched the quintet for a considerate ear. There was a girl who looked similar to the irate, thickset boy. The sister, in all likelihood. There was another female, one with the least amount of enmity in her eyes. However, she was preoccupied in the discussion with the third guy next to her.

The Pioneers’ captain caught the pair of storm clouds, two blue orbs of hostile electricity striking down at the surface of West’s grass green irises. Those azure eyes, which were accentuated by the coal blackness of his hair, glowered back with nothing short of unfriendliness, but West couldn’t help but be entranced. There was something familiar about the other boy, but he couldn’t place it.

Who was this kid?

“You a Nazi or something? I’ve heard them speak like that before.”

West was snapped out of his stupor by the retort from the stocky one’s sister. Kaspar’s shoulder nudge took his eyes away from the blue eyes.

“You hear that, West? Sweetcheeks over here thinks us German Americans are Nazis.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ talk to my sister that way!”

West shook his head and headed toward the center of the court, dribbling the ball to distract himself from the allure of the third boy. “Come on, Wildwood. Just a few rounds.”

“We know who you guys are,” Lanky pointed at each of them. “The Jiving Four? Just a bunch of rich pricks slumming it over in this part of town and looking to humiliate us peons.”

“Is that a 'yes' then?” Finn smiled lightly, ostensibly at ease.

Stocky narrowed his brown eyes at him, a flash of recognition sparking in them. “Nah! This is our court. You need to leave. You and your Nazis, Casbah!”

“Hey, racist bastard!” Justin took a heavy step forward, but was cut off by his ebony-haired friend.

Finn’s smile never wavered. In fact, it only seemed to grow. “Well, you almost got my name right. Two years, so close and yet so far. How about you, Neil?”

West tracked Finn’s line of sight only to land on the same electric orbs he tried to escape a few moments ago. Only this time, there was a flare of hidden surprise when Finn addressed him aloud, which was immediately covered up with a sneer of disgust.

“Hey, Fish Fins,” the girl next to him waved half-heartedly.

Beaming, Finn returned the gesture enthusiastically. “Hey, No-No!”

While the rest of the quintet did not seem affected by the interaction, his friends looked back and forth between the two in shock.

“You guys met before or something?” West asked.

“Classmates when I went to Wildwood,” Finn mentioned with a shrug, “which I heard was closing down.”

That riled the talkative duo back up.

“You don’t know shit, Casbah!” Lanky bellowed.

Regardless of their demeanor, West couldn’t help the stab of sympathy in his gut. Wildwood has been on the edge of breaking down for years now given the poor conditions its interior was in, but the enrollment numbers still went strong. The reasons for its sudden closure aren’t clear, but what could be seen was the concealed unhappiness obscured by tough exteriors. His cousin was well-known for that kind of coping mechanism.

“That’s… rough, guys,” West grimaced sincerely. “What happened?”

Before he could get any answers or insults flung his way, the cold tautness of someone’s dulcet tones carved an ending to the dispute.

“Yo. Let’s go, boys.”

All’s attention went to the mysterious, stony male in the rear. His voice had a distinct New York accent mixed in with a sharp Spanish inflection. Paying no heed to the eyes settled on him, he stood up from his seat, spun around, and began his walk down the street.

“Right,” Lanky nodded. “Before Casbah decides to explode on us, too.”

Finn only shrugged again, taking the slur in stride with a strength seen in those who have been in similar circumstances countless times before. The four other members hurried to follow their leader.

Of course, Kaspar and Justin, not appreciating their friend being verbally attacked, needed to get the last word in.

“Yeah! Run away, fucking cowards!” the redhead shouted at their backs.

The tall brunette chortled. “It’s a wonder why they lost the last time, right?”

The two male lackeys swiveled back around and bared their teeth in murderous rage.

“Why you-” the stocky one went to lunge at them, but that same powerfully icy voice froze everything in the area.

“Shaun! Enzo! Get the fuck over here!”

West stared at the boy in the dark sweatshirt – the one dubbed “Neil.” Said boy didn’t even turn around to check if his friends were following. He didn’t need to, for the duo instantly spun back around and flounced to catch up.

As they crossed the street, the words tumbled out before West could swallow them back down. “Maybe next time?”

Neil did not stop his trek. Although, he did turn to walk backward, making lightning-to-grass eye contact once more.

“Maybe next time, Flower Boy!”

West blinked, utterly stunned.

Flower Boy? That sounded a lot like…

The basketball was stolen from his hands, bringing most of his mind out of its total stupefaction.

“So, first to two hundred points?” Kaspar gritted out. “It’s going to take a lot of shit to get this fucking rage off my chest.”

An exaggeration, which was typical of his redheaded cousin, but West found himself agreeing with him. It was going to take a lot of shit to get this confusion off his chest.

Neil, huh?

“I’m not sure, sweetie. I trust you completely, but you know how the older kids are.”

Late at night, West sat with his mother in her study, where she always resided to read after dinner. Being a psychologist for children, her “breathing room,” as she called it, was filled to the brim with books. And instead of a desk in the small alcove in the back, a comfortable, navy blue loveseat took up the space. West couldn’t count the number of times he snuck in just to lay on it, only to fall asleep and get himself caught.

“I know,” he answered, leaning back and placing his hands behind his head. “Dad’s been going on about his party days since we won the championship. Thought I’d get addicted to the ‘afterglow of my win.’”

Sofie snorted a laugh and pointed at her son. “That’s your introvert side. You got that from me. It balances out the ‘party animal’ you got from your father.”

“Spoken like a true psychologist.”

Going by that logic, Isaak, with all the revelry he did in high school, took after Friedrich while Vanessa, a brainy bookworm, got her personality from Sofie. Ophelia was to be determined at a later date, but West hoped he wasn’t alone in his duality.

Sofie sighed, her eyes going back to her book even as she spoke to her son. She was a master at multitasking. “As long as you don’t get it into any trouble. And keep away from the troublemakers. A year should have given you plenty of time to single that lot out. Especially, Justin. Anybody with two eyes can see that that boy is turning into a miniature version of your father in his prime.”

Indeed, he was.

It wasn’t a major issue now, but his tall friend had been gradually stirring the group into rubbing shoulders with the upperclassmen.

“I’ll keep him in line,” West laughed it off. He settled his arms across his knees and moved in close. “Also, do you know anything about Wildwood?”

It had been bothering him since meeting the quintet at the Bradvons Park’s court. His parents weren’t as entrenched in the school’s politics as the others, but they would’ve had to have heard something.

Sofie looked up at that, brows furrowed in confusion. “Wildwood Community? Elementary, Middle, or High?”

“All of the above. I heard it’s closing down for some reason. I met a couple of kids who went there.”

“Oh my…” she gasped. “How are they?”

“They… weren’t in the best of moods,” he sugarcoated. It wasn’t a lie, but because he commiserated them, he couldn’t think of any other way to tell it without shedding them in a shady light.

Nonetheless, his mother seemed to share the sentiment. “Those poor children. I don’t know much, but a friend of Karlotta is on the school board and mentioned it in passing at a dinner party. Thought it wasn't important, so it was out of my head by the next minute. Said the decision was out of the blue. One day everything was alright, but then, after a few phone calls, it all went downhill from there.”

West’s eyes widened. “Really? Just a few phone calls?”

Sofie shrugged solemnly. “They never gave a complete explanation, but, then again, I don’t really know anyone on the school board. I’ll have to ask Karlotta again.”

Karlotta, who was Kaspar’s mom. Looks like he knew who to go to for more info. It was strange. Why was he suddenly so interested in Wildwood? His friends, notably his cousin, would tell him to quit while he was ahead and face the fact that it was shutting down for good.

End of story.

Something unsettled in West’s chest. That could not be the end. Just a few phone calls should have not have had the power to end the existence of an entire school.

So many jobs lost.

The gap of education.

The enormous loss of funds.

It couldn’t have just ended like that.

West felt his fingers twitch, the tips tapping erratically against the cotton material of his black sweatpants. He was getting excited. Of course, it was something he probably shouldn’t butt into, something that wasn’t much of a big deal as his mind was making it out to be.

No.

He couldn’t let this go. His interests lately have been broadening, and photography was looking to be quite appealing.

Not wanting to bring his mom’s mood down any further, he switched to more mundane topics. The two conversed past the curfew, being that school was no longer in session. When West felt the heaviness begin to spread in his eyes, he decided to call it a night before he snoozed on the sofa again.

“Goodnight, Mom,” he stood up and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then turned to leave.

Before he was fully out the door, Sofie called out to him once more. “Oh, and West! Didn’t you guys face Wildwood this season?”

“Somewhere along the line.” Although he barely remembered that particular game, much to his dismay.

“Maybe you should invite them over sometime. You know, lift their spirits a bit. Despite what I said about your introvert side, you’re still the social butterfly of the family.”

The blond thought about it, but the “warm” reception he and his friends got from the quintet attested to how much that idea sounded like a castle in the air. If Kaspar was here, he would have searched the sky for such.

Even so, West nodded just to mollify his mother. “Sure, Mama. I’ll see what I can do.”