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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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A Hero in the Hallways - 1. Chapter 1

Part One: Synergy

 

Prologue

 

I smiled at Craig, the love of my life, before I stepped into my car. He was perfection wrapped in a pretty little packet that had my name on it. He loved me and that's all I could ask from him, but he gave me more. I waved as I pulled away from his driveway.

 

A publishing company had bought my book and they were going to distribute it nation wide. I couldn’t be happier, as everything was going right in my life.

 

On the way home I began to feel sick. “Shit,” I yelled, remembering that I forgot my medication. I always forgot to take it. I swerved as I began to shake, and then everything went black; I was having a seizure.

 

A distant beeping sound awakened me. I was in a hospital bed. “It's hard to say Mr. Williams. We won't know the extent of this until your son wakes up,” said someone. I looked up at the five people that stood before me and I couldn't remember any of them, including the boy that was the love of my life.

 

Chapter One

 

Have you ever noticed how different the world looks from the top of a building? Everything is small, insignificant, and yet so full of life. People move in and out of cars and buildings, they shop, they talk and live out their lives as the clouds in the sky slowly move away and the sun takes away the light. It's so unlike my life; I stand still when everything moves.

 

I stand before this great world. A world too great and menacing for me to exist in. I am a speck of dust, living a life I am not quite sure is mine. You see, I lost my memory. I am living my life in constant frustration. It scares me to think that, at any given moment, a foreign memory could enter my mind; the memories of the boy I once was.

 

My agent puts three different contracts in front of me that he wants me to look over. These contracts sell the rights to my life based on a novel I wrote. The novel takes place during a miserable year I had lived through. I can't sign one of those contracts if I can't bring myself to read the novel. I don't remember that life.

 

My agent, Arthur, wants me to sign away that life they say is mine. Who are they, you ask? They are everyone around me. The ones who look at me and only see the boy I was before. The two wonderful people that treat me like their son. They are the people who call themselves my friends. They are my fans, and my doctors, who constantly ask me to read the novel.

 

I was told that my novel , “Hallway Hero” is based on the challenges I faced. The critics say that I am an inspiration. My fans say that my book speaks to those needing to be saved. I am tired of living my life through what I am told.

 

Three movie studios want the rights to the novel. Two television stations want to make movies based on it. Another wants to produce a series inspired by it. At the same time, I am being sued. Someone I wrote about in the novel is claiming that I wrongfully portray him in my writing, and wants restitution.

 

“These three contracts offer seven million a piece and a twenty-five percent share in DVD sales. I am going to recommend the first one to you. This contract offers ten percent of box office earnings,” Arthur said. I looked at him as he spoke. “This second contract states that you have the right to write the screenplay. If you decide that you don't want to write it, then you have final say on the screenplay they produce. However, the contract also states that they have the right to produce any future novels you might write. I don't think we should limit ourselves just yet.” Arthur; he wants to sell my life too.

 

I am a prisoner of this novel. It owns me, and I find it so foreign. The words could bring truth to my life, but am I ready to receive the truth? “I need to think about all of this before I can say yes,” I say. He gives me a dissatisfied look.

 

“John, this is going to make you a very wealthy young man. You cannot postpone it. At some point they will lose interest in your material. I trust that you are keeping your family and your future in mind. Look them over and call me with your decision.”

 

“I am taking this seriously, Arthur, but I have to read the book first,” I said, shaking his hand. He smiled as he led me out of his office. I know he's going to call my parents as soon as I leave.

 

The novel's jacket says, “This novel was written at a time when the author was at his lowest and the only release was in writing this book, writing his life.” The jacket also has a picture of me standing at a podium. In the picture I look happy. There is confetti all around me. My mother told me that it was a picture a friend took when I won the election as junior class president. It's all so far away from me.

 

I walk out of the office building and I head towards the subway. I am no one here in New York City. Every day several hundred people see me. Nobody knows more than I do. Nobody seems to care. I like it that I am not important. I'm just another guy riding the subway, like millions of other people.

 

Every once in a while I see a person reading the book. Some look at me, and then back at the dust jacket, and think that maybe, just maybe, it was me. Some are too shy to ask if I am that happy guy standing behind the podium. Some look at my somber face and see no trace of that boy. They turn away and feel silly for even thinking that I could be.

 

I wait on the platform for the express train to arrive. Further down the platform, a street musician plays a tune I know I've heard before. It is somber and slow. I listen intently, wondering where I know that song from. The word Love comes to mind as he plays. Love, I thought as I rode the express to Lincoln Center. Why the word Love?

 

There is a girl holding a copy of Hallway Hero. She smiles at me when she sees me looking at her book. “Have you read this book?” She asks me. I shake my head, saying no. “I love this book. I've read it three times.”

 

“Wow, is it that good?”

 

“Oh yeah. You should read it. Here, have my copy; I have another at home.” She hands me her copy.

 

“Do you have a pen?”

 

“Um, sure,” she says, looking through her purse. “Here, but why do you need a pen?”

 

“So I can autograph the book for ya.” Her eyes open wide when she recognizes my face.

 

“Oh my God, I can't believe it.”

 

I make another fan happy. She thanks me a million times. I smile as I exit the subway train. She waves at me from the train's window and mouth's the words, “Thank you.”

 

“Some people think that everyone's a celebrity,” says a man from behind me. I smile as he walks pass me.

 

Before I know it, the store looms in front of me. It is one of those big bookstores. They have a huge banner advertising “Hallway Hero” as a “New York Times best seller.” I walk through the rotating doors. The store has three floors. I take the escalator to the top floor. There are copies of “Hallway Hero” everywhere. I grab a paperback copy from one of the tables and pay for it at the counter.

 

There is a coffee shop on the second floor. I take the escalator down, and order a cup of tea and I sit at a table near the back, where I read my book.

 

 

Chapter Two

From Hallway Hero

 

They were just hallways, hollow spaces that led the masses to their destination. They were the spaces in between that really shouldn't have mattered. In high school they matter a lot. They were the most destructive, sometimes offensive, important, scary, and fun few minutes of space you will encounter.

 

I used to think that no one could take me down, that I was always one step ahead, and that I was untouchable. I was blinded by my own ego because at Lakeside High a whisper could destroy you.

 

"I am afraid of a school that will never change and I am afraid to go to a school from which I will never learn. Why don't we make our education that much easier? I am the person to give you that. Do you need more time to get from class to class? I'm that person. Do you want more time to study? I'm that person. Trust in me to carry you through our junior year. Vote for me. I'm pathetic." I read from my speech. Michael was listening as I read.

 

"So you care a little. How is that pathetic? Helene's going to shit when she hears your speech.” Michael said as we turned into the main hallway.

 

"Look at me, every day I try something new. I join the student government, I do charity work, I help around the school and I’m on the basketball team. I'm trying to change something that I know won’t change. With all that I do, I have no time for my friends. Soon I won’t have any."

 

"And what do you call me? I mean you have too many friends anyway."


"I said soon, not right now, and you can never have enough friends."


"Right, listen I have to go to peer mediation."

 

"Why?"

"They're thinking that me and Charlie Ireson are going to fight again because of that small argument we had in homeroom."

 

"You mean that small argument where you almost hit him with a desk,” I said, remembering how mad they both were. It was like two roosters in a cockfight. Every one just slowly walked away from them. I had to pull Michael away before they killed each other. Charlie was always high strung anyways.

 

"Hey, I was only deflecting anger,” he said, putting his hands up.


"Well, just make sure you don't deflect your anger towards me.”

 

This particular hallway I walk in is the Mecca for Lakeside High's social crowd. We practically own this hallway and nobody outside of our social crowd ever steps into it. We have rules and they are expected to be followed. We never walk over to the back of the school, where the skaters are, or to the bleachers where the punks are. The main hallway is ours and we never venture out of it.

 

I approached a group of four guys I called the all American dream team. They are all the same person really. I mean they all play football, they have cheerleader girlfriends and they all live on the same block. They are all good people, just a little repetitive and completely predictable.

 

"Hey John what's up," said Jason, they all followed suit.


"Nothing much, just reciting my speech."


"I can't believe you have the guts to do this. You know half the school hates you," said Eddie.

"Yeah, they just hate me because I have what they want. Besides, the other half likes me and that's all that matters.”


"Yeah, they're just assholes, but you know you got my vote," Terry said and they all followed his lead.


"Cool, thanks guys, but I have to go practice my speech.”

 

Several feet away from the Dream Team, amongst the cloud of body spray and squeaky talking, stood the cheerleaders. I loved them all, and they loved me. They are self absorbed, shallow, and conniving bitches, but that's what they were supposed to be. I mean they were cheerleaders.

 

"Hi John!" They all screamed at me.


"Hi girls. Keeping Up the good... uh cheer?" They all smiled as I approached them.

 

“He's so cute,” I heard one of them say as I passed. “I wish he would just ask Mel out. She has it so bad for him.” I wonder if they know how loud they could be when they tried to whisper.

 

“Girls! Girls! I am still within hearing distance from you,” I yelled back. They all giggled and continued with their conversation.

 

I am well known by my fellow class mates. Some don't like me, and some worship the ground I walk on. To my social crowd I am just one of them; just another member of the popular crowd. It bothers me some that we have to use labels, but this is high school. I have to be honest with myself, it was easier. Nobody made fun of us, not to our faces at least, with the exception the punks, but who cares about them. We never had to go far to have fun and there was always a fair share of recreational substances. Not to mention the generous helping of girls. And, that is where my trouble lies.


If you consider yourself a part of our crowd you have an image to maintain. There are three circumstances that will require you to leave the group. Number one would be to be labeled poor, number two would be to be caught socializing with a lower crowd and number three, and mind you this is the worst and the one I secretly suffer from, is to be called gay. All of these circumstances would most likely take place right here in the hallways of our high school.

 

I walked further down the hallway, right by the preps and those that fall into our group by default because their parents are rich. Nobody particularly likes them, but they are part of our crowd nonetheless. They all waved at me and gave me thumbs up.

 

"You guys are going to vote for me right?"


"Sure," they all said in random order.


"Thanks guys."

 

I walked past them, noticing that one of the punks was mocking me while the others laughed. “What, you guys aren't voting for me?” I asked. I mean, what were they doing away from their bleachers? This was the social crowd’s hallway. I can't be put down by their stupidity, I have to stay positive. Today I am going to give my speech for class president, and I can't let them get to me.

 

The auditorium is at the end of our hallway. Several of the drama kids stood by the door. Some snickered at me as I stepped inside. I ignored them and headed towards the stage. The auditorium was decorated with red, white and blue streamers and stars. I stepped on the stage and over to the podium. I hit a bottom and the microphone turned on. I tapped the microphone took a deep breath before I started reciting my speech.

 

"I am afraid of a school that will never change, and I am afraid to go to a school from which I will never learn. Why don't we make our education that much easier? I am the person to give you that. Do you need more time to get from class to class? I'm that person. Do you want more time to study? I'm that person. Trust in me to carry you through our junior year. Vote for me. Vote for Jonathan Williams.”

 

As I finish my speech someone in the back row started to clap. “Who’s there?"

"I like your speech," the person clapping said.


"Who are you?" I asked as he stepped into the light. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Jonathan."


"Do I know you?"


"No."

"Then how do you know my name?" I asked.


"Well, you just said it at the end of your speech," he said, as he approached me.

 

He was beautiful. If I wasn't so deep into acting straight so my whole social, educational, and personal life wouldn't collapse, I would be all over this guy like white on rice.

"What are you doing here?"


"I was sitting over there waiting for my cousin when you walked in. You looked determined to finish your speech, so I didn't bother you.”


I barely heard what he said; his gorgeous green eyes had me transfixed. "Who is your cousin?"

"Helene Mayer,” he said, causing me to freeze.

 

Helene Mayer is one of the other candidates against whom I was campaigning. She had hated me since fourth grade, when I accidentally tripped over her at lunch and my meatball sandwich landed on her, forever labeling her Meatball Mayer. She is a total bitch. Or should I say the total bitch. I have seen her make freshmen drop out of school because they were terrified of her.

 

"You are Meatball Mayer's cousin?" He looked confused.


"Meatball Mayer?" he asked. "Yeah I guess I am."


"So I guess I don't have your vote."


"Now, I didn't say that."


"So you are going to vote for me over your cousin?”

 

"Well, technically I can't vote."


"Why not?"


"This isn't my high school. I would if I went here. I would always vote for a cute guy like you." I blushed a deep shade of red just as the auditorium doors burst open. Meatball stormed in with a disgusted look on her face.

 

"I see you met the bastard. Don't talk to him Dominick; he's an asshole,” She bellowed from the back.

 

"Bye Dominick, see ya later Meatball," I yelled, walking away. The anger that manifested on her face was a mixture of hate and outrage potent enough to burn the devil.

 

“Fuck you!” she yelled back as I reached the door. Dominique grabbed my arm and put a piece of paper in my shirt pocket.

 

"Call me later," he said.


"I will.”

 

Now, gossip is the single most destructive thing that could fly through the halls of my high school. It is like a heat seeking missile that is directed at you whether you like it or not. Luckily, I have not been the target of the rumor missile. I've had several friends who were targeted by gossip, and now they belong to other groups. It's just the way it is. I always see someone that was part of my group and who, for some mishap or other, was kicked out. It is a rule that is understood and respected.

 

"Hey John," said Michael as I walk by the main office.


"Hey Michael, how did it go?" I asked.


"It went."


"What do you mean?"


"Well, I'm not supposed to talk about it, but he thought I was going to kill him for. . ."


"For what?"


"John, he's gay."


"No shit! Are you serious?"

 

"Don't spread that around. If you do, I'll get in trouble."


"But he's the captain of the football team."


"Yeah, and he can play. I don't care if he's gay; I just don't like him. He’s always talking shit about Mel. I mean, I didn't really mean it when I called him a fag earlier."

 

"Are you sure you are all right with this?" I fished for answers. If he was alright with Charlie being gay, then he would be alright with me being gay.

 

"Since when are you a homophobe?"


"I'm not; it's just that he's the first to... you know? He's a part of our group.” I thought about myself and wondered how different it would be if Michael knew about me.

 

"Yeah, just keep that quiet because it means my ass and if I'm going down you are coming with me." I nodded and we headed towards English class.

 

I've always had a crush on Charlie. He was one of my fantasies every time I masturbated. I think about his long golden hair and his beautiful chiseled body. I rub my hand all over his body as I kiss him. In my fantasy we always end up on my bed, and I give him oral pleasure and then he fucks me. Then I fuck him. My fantasies take hold and I don’t notice the door, smacking hard into it. I bounce and hit the ground.

 

"Hey are you OK?" Michael asked as he pulls me up. "You walked right into the door. That must be some speech."

 

"Huh, what?" I noticed that I still had the speech in my hand. "Yeah, I'm just nervous."

 

"Don't be you'll win."

 

My English class was like a reunion of sorts for the juniors in our group. I always sat with Michael in the back and everyone piled in around us. Whoever wasn’t in our group sat in the front rows.

 

"Hi John." said Melissa Browning. She's been after my ass for years.


"Hi Mel," I said as I sat behind her.


"Are you taking anybody to the dance?" she asked. I could see the yearning on her face.


"You know, I don't know if I'm going."


"Well, I would like you to go."


"I'm sorry Mel, I can't."


"OK but if you change your mind call me."


"Sure, Mel."

 

The student's began to pour in. Charlie walked in, sitting next to the cheerleaders and the dream team. I tried to keep my composure and I tried to ignore him, but he sat right next to me and said, "Hi john.”.


"Hey," I replied, nervously. "Do you have a minute after class.”?


"Sure but you have to make it quick. I have to give my speech."


"It will be quick.”

 

The class dragged on for what seemed like ten hours before the bell rang. I waited for Charlie outside the classroom. Several students greeted me, saying good luck as they left the class. Charlie was the last to come out.

 

"Hey, let's talk in here," he said, before he pulled me into the classroom.

 

"So what do you need to talk about?" I asked, secretly hoping that it didn't have anything to do with him being gay.

 

"Well, I just wanted to say good luck with your campaign. You have my vote."


"Thank you Charlie, but I don't think this is why you want to talk to me."

 

"Well, John."

 

"Charlie?"

"I like you John."


"I like you too."


"No john; I mean like a boyfriend,” he said, leaning closer.

 

I panicked. "I have to go do my speech,” I yelled before I ran away from him.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

The ring of my cell phone tears me away from the book. I flip it open. “Hello mom.”

 

"Hi hon. How did the meeting go?” My mother asks.

 

“It went well, but I'm not sure if I want to sign over the rights.”

 

“Well honey, you do what you think is right.” My mother always trusts my decisions.

 

“I can't do it, not without knowing what I'm selling.”

 

“I can understand that. It's your life; I want you to be happy with whatever you decide.”

 

My parents have been nothing but supportive through this situation. They never read the book out of respect to me. They said that I had asked them not to before my memory loss. After reading that first chapter I guess I'm kinda glad they didn't.

 

“I just finished reading the first chapter.”

 

“Oh john, that's great. I'm glad you've finally got around to reading it.”

 

“Mom, I have some questions.”

 

“I would imagine that you would.”

 

“Well, I guess the first question is where is this guy Michael? It seems like we were good friends before. How come he hasn't been around?”

 

She hesitates before she answers. “Well honey I think you should finish reading the book before we talk about him.”


“Why, mom? I just want to know where he is.”


“It's for the best dear, I promise. Sometimes you need to discover things on your own and not hear it from us.”


“I see.” I am frustrated. I guess I understand where she's coming from. It's just that, when you don't remember a thing, you feed on all the information you can get.

 

“In time john. Answers will come.” She tries to reassure me. “That novel will tell you, in your own words, more than I can tell you.”

 

“Mom, I have to go. I have an interview tonight.”

 

“OK honey. Please call Mel; she's in the city for school.”

 

“I’ll keep in touch.”

 

My apartment is a couple of blocks from the bookstore, I decide to walk. I moved here a year ago. It's easier than going back and forth every time I have an interview or a meeting with my agent.

 

“Hi, Mr. Williams,” says Randy the door-man when I reach my building. Randy has been working here thirty five years and he says that I am the only one who ever says hello to him. I like Randy; he's the type of person that can bring you a smile every time you see him. Even when you have a bad day.

 

“Hi Randy, how was your day?”

 

“Just fine, just fine. A beautiful girl came by for you today. She said her name was Melissa and that she would be by later.”

 

“Randy, if she comes by again please just send her up.”

 

“Consider it done, Mr. Williams.”

 

I live alone. It's a conscious decision I made for myself when I thought I needed to be alone. Now it's just a cold lonely place. Sometimes I feel like there is a void here, with room for more. My apartment reflects me, an empty shell.

 

“You have three new messages. First message,” said the automated voice on the answering machine, after I press the play button.

 

I listen for the first message: “Hi john this is Mel. I just got to the dorms and I was wondering if we could go out for dinner or something. If I don't hear from you before three, I'll come by your apartment.” The answering machine clicks, “second message.”

“Hi John this is Mel again, I was at your apartment but you weren't home. Please call my cell phone. I'll try to contact you again.” The machine clicks again, “third message.”

“John this is Arthur. Please read over those contracts. We have a conference with your lawyer on Friday. He wants to go over them, too, before we sign. And John, I trust you remember that you have an interview tonight. Call my office tomorrow for next week’s Schedule.”

 

I walk over to my bedroom. I look over my wardrobe, picking out a shirt and a sports jacket. I also pick out an expensive pair of jeans with white sneakers. I take a shower and brush my teeth. The phone rings as I leave the bathroom.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Hi John. God you’re hard to locate. I've been to your house and your door man said you were out.”

 

“I'm sorry Mel I had a meeting with Arthur.”

 

“Anything to celebrate?”

 

“I don't know yet.”

 

“Oh, well, I just called to see if you wanted to meet me for dinner tonight? I know this little place that serves the best food.”

 

“Oh Mel, I can't meet you.”

 

“God, are you still avoiding people,” she says with annoyance in her voice.

 

“No. Mel, I would love to meet you, but I have an interview at seven. Maybe you could meet me at the studio.”

 

“Sure. I'll meet you there, I just have to get settled here then I'll head over there.”

 

“I'll send a car for you.”

 

“Great. See ya later.”

 

The studio has an assistant show me to the green room. She makes sure I have everything I need, and introduces me to the host of the show. It would be an hour until I’d be interviewed on air.

 

The green-room is crowded by several other people. One is a stunning woman that is yelling at her cell phone. She smiles at me as I pass her. I smile back; I think she is a movie star but I can't be too sure. There is also a man that I recognize from the news. He is a politician who is adamantly against gay marriage. I don't smile at him. He notices who I am, and immediately turns away.

 

“Hey, I know you,” Says the stunning lady. “You wrote Hallway Hero right?”

 

“Uh, Yeah.” I answer, embarrassed that I don’t know her name.

 

“I love your book. It's great. I hear that they want to make it into a movie.”

 

“I haven't signed on it yet.”

 

“I understand they're always trying to screw writers out of their material.”

 

“No, actually they have been very generous. I just don't know if I should sell my story when I can't remember it.”

 

“Oh yes, that's right. You lost your memory. I forgot all about that. Well, don't let them get to you. You do what you feel is right.”

 

“Thank you,” I say, noticing that the politician is looking at me.

 

“Sure hon,” she says as she's called out to her interview. I sit in a chair by a window on the opposite side of the room from the politician. I pull out the paperback copy of my book and I begin to read.

 

 

Chapter Four

From Hallway Hero

 

The crowd cheered as the winners were announced and the confetti flew. I was elected class president, to the dismay of the punks that booed as I walked on stage. I caught glimpses of Dominick; he sat next to Meatball, who wasn't happy with my being called for the president’s position. He smiled at me, and I waved back. Charlie stood near the back clapping. He just frowned at me. I felt bad, but what did he expect? I was standing before the entire junior class.

 

Michael ran up on stage and gave me a hug. "You won, dude. I knew you could do it."

 

"Thanks Michael, I was so nervous."

 

"Yeah, I saw you,” He said smugly.


"Shut up ass."

 

Mel won the vice president’s spot. "I'm so happy we got elected,” she said, giving me a hug. “God, did you see Meatball's face when you won? Did you see her face when they called her name as treasurer? She was so pissed."

 

"I know. I think she hates me more now than ever before. If that's even possible."

"Aw, don't let it get you down buddy," Michael said, as we stepped off stage.

 

Several students and teachers shook our hands as we made our way out of the auditorium. I nodded to Dominick as we passed him and his now furious cousin, Meatball, who was cursing something as we passed.

 

"Listen asshole I hate you. You took away from me the last thing I wanted, but you’re going to pay. I'm going to be like your shadow from now on. So, if you fuck up, I'll be the first to know. Pray that I don't find out anything about you. You hear me, you little fuck? Pray, fucking pray that I don't find out any little secrets you might hide," she said with her finger in my face. A teacher saw her cursing at me and reprimanded her.

 

"Hey, I'm sorry for my cousin. I never thought she would hate you so much,” said Dominick.

"It's a long story really. I just never let it faze me."

 

"She always takes it personal when she hates people. I mean she once beat me up ‘cause I got the game she wanted for Christmas. She still hates me. But she cuts me some slack because I'm family."

 

"Wow, and here I thought that her evil was just directed towards me."


"So would you like to tell me this story? Maybe over dinner?"

 

Wow, this guy was forward. I really wanted to go with him, but I was being given the eye from Melissa and Michael and I had a party to throw, the host couldn't disappoint.

 

"Um I can't, I kinda have plans with my friends tonight."


He gave a grumpy look that was totally adorable. "OK maybe some other time just call me OK. I really like you Jonathan."


"Thanks, I will. Bye, Dominick."

 

I searched the auditorium for Charlie. I didn’t see him, so I headed over to my friends.

 

"Who was that? He was cute," Melissa asked.

 

"He's Meatball’s cousin, Dominick. He wanted to apologize for Meatball’s tantrum."

 

"Really? You should have invited him to the party," Michael said.

 

"I should have, but what would Meatball think? Hey, have you seen Charlie?”

 

"No. I haven't seen him since English class," Michael said.

 

"I saw him leave a few minutes ago,” said Melissa. “I think he went that way.”

 

"Shit. I need to talk to him." Michael looked pissed. Melissa gave me a questioning look.

 

"Why do you need to talk to him?" Melissa asked.

 

"I think he needs someone to speak to."

 

“I can’t believe you, John.” Michael shook his head and walked away.

 

"What's up with him?" Mel asked.

 

"Melissa I can't tell you, OK? But I think Charlie really needs my help. I’ll see you later at the party," I said, and I ran after Michael.

 

"Michael, wait."


"I can't believe you."


"What?"

"I told you to keep quiet about Charlie."


"I didn't say anything."


"Yeah, but just talking about him."


"Mike, he told me he liked me."


"He what?"

 

"After English class he wanted to talk to me. He told me he liked me then he tried to kiss me."

"Shit man what did you do?"


"I just walked away."


"Why, don't you like Him?"


"Huh?"

"John I know you like him. I mean you stare at him all through class."


"Mike I'm not. . ."

 

"What, you're not gay? You have the hottest girl in school practically on your nuts and you never try anything."


"Mike I just like her as a friend."


"Sure, and you weren't just literally jumping on Meatball’s cousin’s head back there."

 

I was frustrated, scared and getting sick fast. "I need air." I jogged away from Michael and exited the building. It was coming and it was coming fast. I nearly reached the garbage can when it all came out. I hated vomiting but I couldn't stop it. I heard the doors slam behind me, someone held me as I threw up.

 

"Let it go, you'll be alright," his deep voice said, as I vomited. When it stopped, he helped me over to a bench. It was Charlie. "Stay here. I'll go get water.” I watched him leave. He helped me, when I thought he needed my help.

 

Michael and Melissa came out of the building. "What happened to you? You look like shit," Mel asked.

 

“Nothing,” I said.

 

“Here, drink this John,” said Charlie. He handed me a cup of water and held my head as I drank. "I saw him run out, and he looked sick, so I chased after him to make sure he was all right."

 

The door burst open again and Meatball came out. "What's going on here? Is that asshole sick?"

 

"Shut up Helene," yelled Michael and Melissa.


"Hey, it's a free country. I just wanted to know if he was suffering.” She made me want to hurl again. I couldn't be there anymore, they were suffocating me. There were too many people to deal with, so I left.

 

I ran to my car and drove shakily to the cliffs at the edge of town. It's the place I go to think, the only place I can be myself.

 

When I was younger, I had somebody. It wasn't sexual or anything, but we knew it was special. We were just kids, but deep down we knew we were meant for each other. His name was Craig. Craig and I were inseparable; they used to call us the twins. What we had nobody could have shared. Everything would be different if he was still here.

 

I remember how the sun reflected on the rocks every morning when we met here. Craig counted the seconds in between the waves as they crashed on the rocks.

 

He said he was coming back in a year, and everything would be the same. He told me that when we were twelve, and I waited for a year, but he never came back. I even rode my bike by his house to see if he was there. I missed him; the thought of not having him back sent me to bed crying.

 

I learned one thing from this; things will never stay the same no matter how much we want them to, no matter how much we try. He would never come back and I would never see him again.

 

I recovered and somewhere down the line I guess I gave up hope. I met new people, made new friends and somehow I forgot about him. The pain he caused just faded away. If he would have stayed I'm sure I wouldn't be a part of the group I am now, but I'd be happy.

 

"Hey I thought I'd find you here,” said Michael.


"How did you know?"


"You used to always come here when you were mad."


"I hate living like this."


"I know you do, but it comes with the territory. Trust me I know."

 

"I remember when I used to come here and just be happy."


"We can't always get what we want.” He said. “I mean I hate being popular just because my parents have money, but I don't let it bother me; I live my life. You need to live yours too; there is a guy out there waiting to be happy with you."

 

"You brought him here?"


"Yep, Mel is here too."


"You told her?"


"She doesn't care, she still likes you. Come on, we have a party to get to."

 

I smiled, and we both headed away from the cliff. That time in my life was over. Maybe it was time for me to be happy. There was no need for me to come back to it. The memories of the cliff died that day.

 

I drove with Charlie back to my house. We kept stealing glances at each other on the way back. The drive back was silent; we didn't want to ruin the moment. The comfort of having him there was good enough for me.

 

The party was apparently in full swing. I was greeted at the door with kisses and hugs by my parents. Charlie smiled at me and walked inside; I followed. The dream team stood around each other drinking from cups I knew my parents hadn't provided. I made my way over there and grabbed Eddie’s cup.

 

"What's in here Eddie?"


"Just Coke."

 

“Coke and a little additive, or should I say a lot. Just make sure your girlfriends drive," I said. They all nodded. I made my way around to the cheerleaders; I wanted to make sure they knew. They were all staring at some girl I'm sure they hated, who would soon be hit by the rumor missile. They all squealed as I approached them.

 

"Hey John congrats. I knew you'd win," Amy said.


"Thanks Amy."


"Yeah, like God, did you see Meatball? She was like ready to go gun ho on your ass," Tiffany added.


"Yeah she already swore death for me."


"Don't worry, we'll take care of her for you," said Catherine.


"Sure, and speaking of taking care of somebody, who's tonight's victim?"


"Oh It's Sheryl Riley. She's been flirting with Eddie and I am going to teach that bitch whose man she's fucking with," Amy said in a very malicious manner.


"Well, just take it easy," I never involved myself with their past-time I just let them indulge themselves.

 

"Sure I will,” replied Amy.


"Well girls I have to make my rounds so have fun; please look after your boyfriends until my parents leave. They're drinking."

 

They all nodded and I made my way to Charlie and Mel they were sitting on lawn chairs in the patio. "So I hear that you might have a new love interest in your life."

"I might."

 

"Why do I always fall for gay guys?” Asked Mel. We all laughed. “I need to find myself a real man.”

 

"Any prospects?" I asked.

 

She looked over at Michael. "You know Michael Isn't half bad. He's kinda cute." We all laughed as she made her way towards him.

 

"They are going to be a cute couple," Charlie said as we watched her hug Michael.

"Yeah."

"What about us? Are we a cute couple?"


"Yeah I think we are. Come on let's go somewhere more private," I said.

 

I spent a good part of the night just talking to him. The more we talked the more I liked him. He was funny, interesting and very adorable, I was falling for him.


"So you had a crush on me huh?" Charlie asked.


"Yeah a slight crush."


"I used to follow you around in the hallways just so I could look at your ass," Charlie said. I. Blushed.


"Stop your making me blush."


"No, I'm not kidding I really do like your ass."


"Well, I used to stay late after basketball practice to watch you shower."


"I know and I used to take just a little longer. I knew you were looking."

 

"So are you going to kiss me?"


"Not until you brush your teeth. You vomited, remember?"


I brushed my teeth and then we headed back to the party. Sometime at the end of the night, when everybody left, I took him home. I kissed him before he got out of my car, his lips were so soft.


"Mmmm, minty fresh," he said as we parted.

 

“You’re lucky I brushed.”

 

I'm lucky I have you.”

 

“God, you’re so sappy.”

 

“Hey, better to be sappy than not having me at all.”

 

“OK, it's time for you to go,” I said, shoving him out.

 

“What had enough of me already?”

 

“No just saving a little for later,” I said. I smiled and pulled away. It was a perfect moment, too bad someone was about to ruin it. The phone rang when I walked through the front door of my house.


"Hello?"

"Hi Jonathan, it's Dominick."

Copyright © 2011 GREEN; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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