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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. 

Divine Punishment - 8. Chapter 8

“Listen, Jordan…Ohh…Yeah…Listen, we gotta…Mmmm…” I shoved him away from me, before he could suck my lungs out through my mouth.

“What’s up, Xander?” he asked, pouting, but still moving backwards, toward his bed, dragging me along with him, by the hem of my shirt. “Come on. I read some stuff I just GOTTA try out!”

“Yeah, sure, but listen. I’m not really in the mood…” Now that was such a weak lie, I knew even a 4-year-old could see through my bullshit. And Christopher said that it’s better to have sex than think about it, because it’s so distracting, so…why not?

“Not in the mood?” Jordan grinned. “You’re an insatiable little beast and you know it.”

“Fair enough. But…I was thinking we could talk.” Yes, I needed to do this. I needed to tell him the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth. And I had Terry there to help me out. Normally, he wouldn’t be anywhere within 20 feet of Jordan’s room when we were in there alone, with the door closed, for fear of getting scarred for the rest of his…err, un-life by the images he might see. However, knowing that I wanted to tell Jordan everything, he decided to stick around this time. You know, to give me a hand. The “I’ll tell you something only your beloved dead one would know” trick. Always works in the movies. If I played it right, I’d either convince Jordan of my connection with his dead cousin, or that I’m a creepy stalker, prying into the most intimate details of his life. So…win-win, really.

“Oh, thank God. I was just about to get the hell out of here. I thought you lost your nerve.” Terry said. “I have no intention of sitting through…whatever.”

“Sure, babe.” Jordan said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, but a smile still on his face. “What do ya wanna talk about?”

“Can we…?” I gestured toward the headboard of the bed and Jordan promptly rearranged some pillows for comfort, then we both sat against them, side by side, fingers interlaced.

“You told me a lot about yourself. And your family. And I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you would trust me with all of that.”

“Of course I trust you.” Jordan said, turning my head with his hand, so that we would face each other. “You told me you loved me. I wouldn’t have answered you if I didn’t mean it. Yeah, I’m young, but I don’t take those words lightly. I love you too, Xander. Which is why I told you all of that.”

“Right. So, you’d want to know everything about me too.”

“Yes. But only if you were okay with telling me everything. I respect the fact that we all have some secrets and some are harder to let go of, even for those we love.”

“Yeah, but, what if it were something major. Like, earth-shattering. Or something that could endanger you?”

“You’re not a drug dealer or hired killer, are you?” Jordan asked, his smile broadening. “Because, I have to tell you, I got a dangerous vibe from you the moment I first laid eyes upon you. And since I fall for the bad boys, I just couldn’t help myself.” He was almost laughing now and I couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Yeah, yeah. Funny. But I’m being serious. You’d want to know the truth, even at the cost of your relationship, right?”

Jordan stopped grinning now and looked thoughtful. He stared straight ahead at the blank wall and I could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Are you seeing someone else?”

“What?! NO! I swear.”

Jordan exhaled loudly. “Okay. So, as I told you, my philosophy when it comes to relationships is simple. If there’s love, you stick with it, no matter what. It’s not as easy as it sounds, I’m sure. But as long as there’s love…” He looked straight into my eyes. “So, do you love me?”

“Yes, but...”

“Would you do anything to intentionally hurt me?”

“No, but…”

“Then, whatever it is you want to tell me can wait until you’re ready. I can tell that moment isn’t now. Yes, trust and sharing are required to make things work. But so is patience. And I’m a patient guy. Whatever it is, it can wait.” And once again I was in his strong arms, tasting his sweet lips, reason lost to desire. Yes, it could wait, I thought, as Jordan started pulling my shirt over my head.

“Chicken shit.” Terry said, groaning. “I’m outta here.”

Yes, I’m weak, alright? I just wasn’t ready to expose all of my inner crazy to Jordan. And he seemed okay with it for now, so why rush it? I hear make-up sex is great, but it was good enough without the arguing and the shouting and the break-up, so why push my luck?

“Everyone excited about the big game this Friday?” Justin asked.

So, here I was, the next day, after 7 hours spent learning the secrets of the universe – or what passes for that in the high-school curriculum – at a new GSA meeting. I liked most of the people there and had gotten to know them better, even if there was one annoying person in the group, namely Ryan, the cute red-head with an attitude problem. But, like I said, the rest were okay, especially Justin, the President. And it held sentimental value, due to the Jordan connection. Yes, I’m a sap.

“Ugh.”

“Give me a break.”

“Football?”

“Hell yeah!” answered Jordan and Ryan. Jordan I could understand, but Ryan?

“What? I like football. Especially football players.”

“Speaking of football players and the game against Lincoln, there’s a rumor that Terry Williamson had a secret girlfriend at that school and now they’re saying she’s pregnant!” a guy called Jesse, who was attending only his second meeting, put in.

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud! That’s bullshit!” Terry exclaimed.

“The guy’s dead. Can we move on to more relevant gossip?” Tara, one of the girls said. And thank God for that. Jordan looked ready to go all Hulk on the room. I leaned over to him and squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. He answered me with a small smile and he seemed to settle down.

“Yeah, let’s talk about live football hunks, shall we? Like Williamson’s buddy, Henry Willis, the coach’s son.” Ryan cut in.

“What about him?” asked Justin.

“We had sex.” Ryan answered smugly.

Ryan...Grr! There he was, like the little attention whore he is, making an ass of himself and trying to get everyone to notice him. The little bitch! Yes, okay, I REALLY didn’t like the kid. He was too full of himself.

“I’m telling you, he’s a fag. And if he’s not, I’ll turn him into one by the end of the week.” Ryan said to the group. See? Told you he’s a prick. “I sucked him off and he said it was better than any head he’s ever gotten from a girl. I’ll get him to fuck me within days. Macho football players. They say they don’t want it, that they’re not queer, but once they get a taste, they’re hooked. Bet you half of them are gay.”

“Oh, brother!” Terry exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “I know Willis. And yes, I realize that some of the biggest homophobes act that way just because they’re trying to mask their own homosexuality, but trust me when I say that Willis ain’t gay. And he’s a bigger asshole than I ever was. Ginger over there better watch his back.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not gonna be the one to point that out.” I murmured under my breath.

“What was that?” Ryan asked with narrowed eyes.

“Nothing, man. More power to you.” I said, raising my fist in a show of mock-support. “Fucking prick.” I whispered again.

“You’re just jealous because he’s cuter than you, aren’t you?” Terry asked, laughing. I sneered, as if the very notion were offensive. “You ARE!” Terry went on. “You’re both kinda tiny, you’re cute in your own, nerdy way, but that red hair actually looks good on the kid and he has you beat.” I just gritted my teeth, refusing to rise to the bait. After all, that’s all it was. An attempt to rile me up. There was no way Ryan was cuter than me. I mean, I had the pasty complexion and dark hair combo down. And with my good pair of glasses, I actually looked stylish. And sure, Ryan has those dimples and freakishly white teeth and cute little button nose with a few freckles sprinkled around, just enough to give him a mischievous aura without turning into a caricature and that mop of red hair was strangely attractive…Fuck, he WAS cuter than me! And he was sitting on the other side of Jordan. And seemed to go for the big, hunky guys. How long until he made his move on my man? Oh, this was not gonna happen. I’ll turn him to jelly before I let him win!

“…and I’ll have pictures to prove it!” Ryan said. I guess he had been talking all that time, but I tend to tune the prick out.

“You’re out of your mind!” Jordan exclaimed. “You’re gonna take pictures of you and the football team running back having sex? Does that not register as an extremely bad idea, even to your puny brain?” Yeah, you tell him, honey! I was beaming by now. I guess I had no reason to worry. Jordan disliked the asshat just as much as I did. “Hell, forget the pictures, the sex part itself is a bad idea.”

“Oh, please, mister high and mighty. I told you, he’s gay. He’s just in denial.”

“Has the thought that he’s simply getting his rocks off ever crossed your mind? Having sex with a guy doesn’t make him gay. You of all people should know that it doesn’t work that way. A straight man can have sex with another man. It’s not the act itself that counts, it’s the desire. The attraction.”

“Tomato, tomahto.”

“Tell me, has he ever reciprocated? Has he ever kissed you? At least given you a hug? A pat on the head, like a faithful dog?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean anything.” Ryan said, shooting daggers at Jordan. Yes, I definitely did not need to worry about the two of them getting together any time soon. “He just needs time.”

“Face it, man. He’s straight. He heard you give great head and thought he’d take you out for a spin. That’s all. He enjoyed it, I’m sure, but he’s not gonna be doing the same to you anytime soon. And if you’re content with that kind of relationship, and I use the term lightly, then go for it. Suck for all you’re worth, but getting him drunk and taking pictures…that’s beyond retarded. I’d say it’s suicidal.” Jordan finished, crossing his arms over his chest and staring straight at Ryan.

“Whatever, man. You’re just jealous because you’re stuck with that shrimp over there.” Ryan said, pointing at me.

“Why, you little…” I started, but I was cut off by Ryan crashing to the ground, his chair buckling under him. “I guess you’re not that little after all” I said, after I stopped laughing. “Put on some extra pounds, did you? Careful now, those football players like their cheerleaders skinny, fat ass!” I grabbed Jordan by the hand and pulled him after me, as I left the room. “Ciao!” I threw back over my shoulder to the rest of the group. Did I know how to make an exit or what?

“You’re welcome.” Terry said, walking next to me. I merely smiled widely and nodded contentedly. Yes, having a guardian ghost definitely had its advantages.

Friday. Day of the big game. I was bubbling over with excitement. Yawn! Okay, so I was a casual football fan, but high-school rivalries? They’re just stupid. Lincoln Tigers vs. Washington Warriors. Ugh! Who gives a flying squirrel crap?

“Let’s go Warriors!” shouted Jordan from behind me, making me jump. I turned around and then promptly fell over, laughing.

“What?” he asked. “It’s not that bad.” He said, sounding genuinely hurt. “Is it?” he asked, running back into the bathroom, to make sure.

“No, it’s not bad…if you’re auditioning for the Blueman Group.” Jordan came back into his bedroom and I forced myself to examine his blue-painted face and hair, with a white “W” on each cheek without breaking back down into fits of laughter. I failed.

“Aw, come on! I’m just showing school spirit.”

“Dude, this is your first semester here.”

“All the more reason for it, then. Show that I belong.”

“Belong in an insane asylum, you mean.”

“By the by, did you talk to Dr. Watkins?”

“Yeah. Wait…did you just call me insane?” I asked in a level voice.

“No. What I mean was…Err…It’s just that you said yesterday that you needed to ask him something and you didn’t want to wait for your session. It’s not that you’re crazy. I mean, I know you had some issues, but, umm…What I’m trying to say is…err…” He was getting pretty uncomfortable now and I was loving every second of his squirming. So, I just kept on staring unblinking straight at him. He was looking everywhere except at me. It was quite amusing and cute at the same time.

“I’m not questioning your mental health. But you mentioned insanity and I thought of Dr. Watkins and you being his patient and…Crap, I’m really messing this up, aren’t I? Umm…I love you?”

“You better, cause it’s the only thing keeping you alive right now.” I answered. I held on to my poker face for a few seconds more, then I smiled and moved right in front of him. He kissed me and I nearly gagged. “Christ, did you get paint on your lips as well?”

“Oops, sorry ‘bout that. Must’ve gotten some on by accident. It’s not that bad, actually.

“Insane, I tell you.” Then I rushed off into the bathroom to dig out the toothbrush I kept there for our “sleepovers”.

Yes, I had called Dr. Watkins. I needed his opinion on how to approach the “seeing ghosts” subject with Jordan. Mind you, I had no intention of getting locked up in the nuthouse again, so I wasn’t about to tell the good doctor that I hadn’t been crazy when I was younger and it was all true and merely the tip of the iceberg. No, I simply told him that I wanted to share with Jordan the reason why I was in the Den of Crazy in the first place. He knew I had spent time in Hightower, just not why. I figured starting with that and then working my way to “Guess what? I was actually quite sane and ghosts are real” was the way to go.

Dr. Watkins simply said I shouldn’t beat around the bush and just spill it. Short and honest. If Jordan really cared for me, he’d be supportive. He seemed to brush over any potential psychological harm that Jordan laughing in my face and then dumping me might cause. I was starting to think that Dr. Watkins wasn’t all that good at his job.

“Ready to go?” Jordan asked.

“Yeah, sure. Gooo team!”

“Don’t overdo it on my account.” He giggled.

So, Jordan drove us over to the school, where we barely managed to find a parking spot. We then joined the crowd and made our way into the stadium. I think even the Cowboys would be envious of our stadium. Covered stands, fancy seats, state-of-the-art scoreboard and an army of Mexicans hired to take care of the turf so that it’s always in perfect shape. Yes, the athletics department gets more money than any other. Makes sense, seeing as Coach Willis pretty much runs the place and Principal Morris is a moron. Not that I’d ever encourage rumor mongering and slander, but that’s just what “they” say…

“Hey, guys! Jordan, Xander, over here!” We looked around, trying to make out who was calling our names and we finally spotted Justin with a cute bleach-blond guy I’d never seen before,sitting a few rows above. “Come on, we saved you some seats.” He shouted, waving us over.

Jordan didn’t seem too convinced. He glanced farther down the stand, where a bunch of other guys were painted like idiots. Not that Jordan’s an idiot or anything. He looked back and forth between the freak show and me, seemingly undecided. I thought I’d let him off the hook and allow him to enjoy himself.

“Go on” I said. “Join the herd and run rampant.”

“You sure? I mean, you could join us over there.”

I looked at the morons who were bumping chests and making animal noises. “Err, I’ll pass, thanks. Have fun, but I expect you to go back to normal once the game is over. Don’t go native on me 24/7, you hear?”

“Yep.” He grinned and hugged me tightly. “I’ll be good. I’ll check up on you at half-time, okay?”

“Check up on me? I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Oh, don’t get all pissy.” Pissy, he says. Slap some paint on him and he thinks he’s He-Man. Pfft! “How ‘bout a good luck kiss?”

“You’re not playing, so you’re not the one who needs the luck. And I ain’t getting that blue shit on me again. So, you’ll just have to wait until later. Now scoot.” He winked and ran off to join the circus. Terry shrugged and went after Jordan. I guess that made sense. He’d want to be with his crowd, even if no one knew he was there. I just sighed and made my way up the stairs until I got to Justin.

“Hey, what about Jordan?”

“Let him have his fun with the other painted freaks. I’ve decided on more civilized company.”

“Well done. This is Gabe.” He said, gesturing towards the blond. He had short, spiked hair and aside from that, he looked very similar to Justin. About 5’10”, somewhat on the skinny side, a hint of a tan and green eyes. We shook hands and I couldn’t help but stare at him.

“Ahem.” Justin interrupted.

“Huh?”

“Gabe, this is Xander.”

Gabe giggled and I managed to speak again. “Sorry, it’s just that you two look so similar. I didn’t know you were so much into yourself, Justin. A bit narcissistic, don’t you think?”

“What?” they both basically shouted, then Justin started laughing. Gabe just shook his head, an amused expression on his face.

“Dude, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s my brother.” Justin explained.

“Oh. Well, that makes sense.”

“Seriously, Xander, you’re a smart guy most of the time, but you can be pretty dumb. You see a guy who looks just like me and you think we’re dating, rather than jumping to the natural conclusion that we’re related?”

“Yeah, well, in my defense…err…kissing cousins.”

“That’s just nasty.” Gabe said, still smiling. We all sat down and started chatting, ignoring the crowd around us. Turns out Gabe was 18 and just started college, but was back home for the weekend.

“So, what’s with the hair?” I asked. “Lost a bet or something?”

“What, you don’t think it looks good on me?”

“No, but I just thought that, well, it would be Justin that would, you know…”

Again, both brothers burst into laughter. “Yeah, yeah, he’s the gay one, he should be sporting this do, but I just thought I’d do the big brother thing and show my solidarity.”

“How so?”

“Well, when Justin came out this summer, I wasn’t all that supportive. Not that I had any problem with it, it’s just that I was busy with getting ready for college and spending time with high-school friends before we each went our separate ways. Anyway, dad…well, he didn’t take it too well. And I wasn’t there most of the time to talk some sense into him. I thought he’d have gotten over it by now, but he’s still being a jerk to Justin, so I’m playing gay this weekend.”

Now I was really speechless. I looked at him with what I’m sure was obvious bewilderment showing on my face.

“Yeah, I got the hair down, Justin’s doing a make-over and I have my roommate from college dropping by tomorrow. He’ll be playing the role of my boyfriend. He’s a theater major and basically jizzed his pants when he heard I wanted to do this. He called it ‘the greatest role of his young career’ or something”.

“But…why?”

“Just a not-so-subtle way of telling my dad that either he stops treating Justin like shit or he loses both sons.”

I looked over at Justin and saw that he had tears in his eyes. I never would have guessed that he didn’t have the full support of his family. He always seemed so confident with who he was. Hell, he was the GSA President and had a rainbow pin on his backpack. He was the very definition of out and proud. But I guess that I really didn’t know too much about him, outside of school stuff.

“That’s why I went for the GSA presidency. I wanted to prove both to my dad and to myself that I’m proud of who I am. But I gotta tell ya, what Gabe is doing means a hell of a lot to me. It’s easy to say that you’re okay with the way some people treat you, but sitting up at night, thinking about it…it still hurts. Having this kind of support from him means more than I can say.”

Gabe hugged him and kissed the top of his head. “Anything for little bro. I love you, okay?” Justin nodded and wiped away the tears threatening to run down his cheeks, then sniffed and broke into a huge smile.

“Don’t I have the greatest big brother ever?”

“Yeah. You do, actually.” I smiled as well. The love these two brothers shared really touched my heart. Naturally, Ryan had to come along and ruin the mood.

“What the hell are you women crying about?” he asked and as he spoke, I felt a strong aroma of vodka coming off him. Great. A drunk Ryan. Guaranteed to be 200% more annoying than the basic model.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake! Why must God punish me so?” I moaned.

“D’you really want me to answer that?” Ryan asked, as I scowled at him. Then the bastard proceeded to sit down in the empty spot next to me, where Jordan was supposed to be. Damn me and my generosity, letting Jordan do his stuff. I wanted to go down to hiss row and drag him back there. Hell, I was contemplating dunking my head in a bucket of paint, so I could fit in and just stay there. I honestly had no intention of spending the rest of the game with Ryan by my side.

“You don’t mind me sitting here, do you?”

“Actually…”

“Great. Thanks, pal. This is right on the 50-yard line. Awesome.” Then he pulled a metal flask out of his jacket and took a swig. The thing even had the double Mars symbol engraved on it. It actually made me consider buying a pride necklace or something. Then Ryan burped and the smell almost made me vomit, so any such thoughts quickly left my mind.

Meanwhile, on the field, football stuff was going on or something. I dunno, the crowd was cheering, but I was too busy looking down in disgust at Ryan, who seemed hell-bent on getting smashed.

“YEAH, BABY!” Ryan shouted and I turned my attention back to the game. Seems his imaginary boyfriend Willis ran the ball to the 5-yard line. Now that Terry had kicked the bucket, the team relied more on its rushing plays. So, first and goal and, wouldn’t you know it? Touchdown Willis. Yippee!

“Oh, he sooo deserves what he’s getting tonight!” Ryan exclaimed, grinning and slapping his ass. I merely put my head down in my hands and groaned, wishing for the game to be over and Jordan and I to get down to serious business. “Yeah, Henry! YEAH, BABE! You show ‘em!” he yelled, attracting curious and bemused glances from pretty much everyone within hearing distance which, considering how well voices carry in the stadium – they made sure the acoustics were just right, so the team would feel empowered by the crowd – was, err…at least half the stadium. Including the players. I couldn’t be too sure, what with the helmet and everything, but I think Willis was red and it wasn’t the “cute embarrassment” red either. It was more the “I shall kill you in a painful and disgusting, CSI-worthy manner” red. Can’t say I blame him, what with the other players sniggering. Yeah, this definitely wouldn’t end well.

By the end of the game, my head was pounding, Ryan was close to an alcohol-induced coma and our mighty Warriors had won 17-9. On the bright side, I really got to know Justin more as we talked and his brother really seemed like a great guy and I was happy to now consider him my friend. As the crowds started dissipating, moving towards the exits, Jordan came up to us, beaming as if he had scored the winning touchdown himself.

“What are you so happy about?” I inquired. I tried to sound as grave and upset as possible, but that silly grin of his was too much for me. I pulled him in for a quick kiss, ignoring the paint, then I checked around to make sure there were no mobs with flaming torches heading our way. The coast is clear, so I went in for seconds.

“Mmm. Nice. I needed that. And I’m smiling because we won. And I’m sure my support went a long way towards assuring said victory.”

“Am I gonna have to cut you off for a while in order to get that expanding ego in check?”

“No, please. Anything but that. I am but your humble servant.”

“Better. Now come on, I want you to meet Gabe Hutchins, Justin’s brother.” The two of them shook hands, exchanged pleasantries, then we heard a baby seal getting squished by an 18-wheeler. Or it might have been Ryan throwing up. The smell confirmed this hypothesis. The sight itself was ungodly.

“What’s with him?” Jordan asked, arching an eyebrow.

“He has a bright future in AA, that’s all I’m gonna say.” I looked down at Ryan, who was hunched over the now vomit-covered seat in front of him. I heaved a sigh and decided to play good Samaritan. “Come on, let’s take ‘im with us. He might do something stupid if we leave him here, like hit on Willis or something. Anyone know where he lives?”

“Yeah, I do.” Justin said. “Err, you guys can follow us if you want. I’ll drive Gabe’s car and you keep pace. Because I’m definitely not getting that thing in my car.”

“I…I…not a fing!” Ryan slurred.

“You’re a stupid thing.” Terry said, appearing at my side. “You should leave his sorry ass here. Willis is gonna kick his ass. What was he thinking, shouting that?”

I didn’t answer. There was no need to, even if I could. I knew he was right. But the least I could do was make sure Willis didn’t come across Ryan in his current state. Things might go horribly wrong. I disliked the fucker, but I didn’t want to see him dead.

“Come on, help me get him up.” I said to Jordan.

“No, I’ll do it. I’m taller.” Gabe interjected. Who was I to object? He was right and I didn’t really want puke on my jacket.

So, with me in the lead, Jordan and Gabe dragging Ryan in-between them and Justin bringing up the rear, we slowly and clumsily made our way to the parking lot. Just as I was about to open the rear door of Jordan’s car, I felt it. It was Terry, telling me something. No, he wasn’t talking. He was thinking it and I reacted immediately. “Get down!” I yelled, dropping to the pavement as a large rock flew over my head and smashed into the side window.

“What the hell?” Jordan and Gabe shouted, as they crouched down, Ryan lying on his side, Justin flat on his stomach, his hands covering his head.

“The fag brigade!” Willis shouted, as he and 4 of his buddies came towards us, still in their uniforms, but without the shoulder pads and helmets. “I wanted to just take care of the red-head, but I can’t pass an opportunity like this. Pryce, we have unfinished business. And Hutchins, you’re a bonus.”

“Fuck that. You touch my brother and I’ll kill you.” Gabe said, straightening up and putting as much menace into his voice as possible. It was brave, but hardly awe-inspiring, as Willis and his pals had him beat by a few inches and more than a few pounds. Willis started laughing and I would have too if I were him.

“Back off, Willis. I’m not gonna tell you again.” Jordan said, taking a step towards the football players.

“Hey, you’re Williamson’s cousin, aren’t you? I heard you were a cocksucker too, but I guess this just confirms it. But since me and your cousin were tight, I’m gonna give you a pass. Get in your car, drive away and I’ll forget you were here. I even promise not to mess up your little boyfriend too much. How’s that for an offer you can’t refuse?”

Jordan looked back at me, then turned to face Willis once again. “Not fucking likely.” Then he rushed head-first at Willis and hit him with his shoulder in the abdomen, taking him off his feet. They landed with a thump on the hard asphalt and immediately started wrestling like mad men. It definitely wasn’t a Matrix-like fight. Two of Willis’ buddies ran over to help him and one of them kicked Jordan hard in the side, making him cry out in pain. That was all I needed. I was pissed again.

I noticed that the other 2 goons were now coming towards us and I wasn’t in the mood to play around. I’m still not exactly sure how I did it, but I swear the air around me started crackling with small bursts of lightning. “Run. I’m only giving you this one warning.” I told the two of them as I started walking determinedly toward them and, more specifically, Jordan behind them. The two morons just looked at each other in confusion and then made the wrong call. They both came at me fast, but I guess all that getting slammed around during my sessions with Christopher had indeed worked its magic. Before they made it more than two feet, I flicked my wrist at them and I felt the raw energy surge through me. I had done some crazy stuff with Terry before, but this was different. This was…powerful. Far more powerful than I ever imagines. This was what Christopher meant. Terry and I were finally in sync and it was amazing. I felt everything around me. I saw everything more clearly, and the time itself seemed to slow down. I was in tune with Terry and, through him, with the universe, it seemed. And it gave me one hell of a rush. The two pricks flew across the parking lot and slammed into a car almost 60 feet away. The sound of the alarm going off upon impact drew the attention of Willis, as he was now punching Jordan in the stomach, the other two guys were restraining my boyfriend. Jordan’s head was lolling from side to side and blood was trickling from his mouth. I felt Terry’s anger as strong as my own.

“What the fuck?” Willis asked, taken aback at the sight of two of his compadres lying knocked out cold on the ground. He stared at me for half a minute as I strode towards him.

The anger was boiling deep inside me. I’d never felt anything like it. Raw emotion, powerful hatred, driven by seemingly unlimited power. It burned inside me and yelled for release. So I let it out. I let it all out and a swirling inferno of flames encircled the five of us. I forgot all about Ryan, Justin and Gabe. I had no idea if they were okay and what they thought about all this. And frankly, I couldn’t care less. My mind was focused on one thing only, an all-consuming blaze and that fire was hungry for Willis. I saw fear in his eyes. Real fear. The kind I knew was reflected in my own eyes each time they harassed me. I kept moving towards them and the circle of fire started shrinking in on us as I did so.

They let go of Jordan, who slumped to his knees. He managed to prop himself up on his hands and he looked up at me. He was alright. That’s all that mattered. I didn’t know what he saw right then. Was it a terrifying spectacle? A wonder? A freak show? Did it scare him as much as it scared Willis? Again, I didn’t care. He was alright. That’s what I wanted. That and to see Willis hurt. I kept marching towards him. He backed up from Jordan, but he immediately felt the hot flames licking at his back.

“Please! Stop!” he shouted, tears of dread in his eyes. “STOP!”

But I couldn’t. I closed my fist tightly and the fire came together to form a bright, hot sphere of deadly light. Willis breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived, as I sent the sphere straight at his face.

“XANDER!” Jordan. Jordan’s voice rang through my head and the haze of anger slipped away. Jordan was okay. That was what mattered, not hurting Willis. I opened my hand and the ball of fire flickered out just as it was about to burn a bright hole in Willis’ skull. The big football player stayed in place for a minute, trembling, then his knees buckled and he collapsed. He was fine, apart from his seared eyebrows. Frightened, but otherwise fine. I’m sure his pants weren’t in good shape, though. I looked over at his two buddies, who were in a similar state.

Then I turned my attention to Jordan. He was staring intently at me. I couldn’t read his expression. I had no idea of what I should do or say. How would he react? Running away in horror would probably be justified. Hell, he might turn me in to the authorities, claiming I’m a dangerous mutant.

We stared at each other for a minute longer, the world around us silent and forgotten.

“I think you should say something.” Terry told me softly.

I nodded and opened my mouth to speak. What came out could only be classified as a squeal. I coughed and I finally found my voice. “Err, remember our talk about secrets? Well, my secrets kinda include ghosts and magical powers…”

Copyright © 2011 ghostofoldtrafford; 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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