Chasing Rusty Parker - 31. A Night To Remember

Chapter Thirty-One - A Night To Remember

Zoey walked into the room as soon as Matty yelled for her to come in from the other side of the door, but it took him a few moments to recognize his bestie in her new attire. The pink jacket she loved so much was gone, and so was any trace of glitter. If anything, the lack of any makeup made Zoey look younger with her eyes made huge by the glasses and her hair brushed back and tied into a braided ponytail. Knowing the usual troubles she had with making her hair behave, Matty wondered what could have happened to warrant what must been a torture involving hours of punishing brushing of that leonine mane.

The clothes were just as much of a shock. Matty could have overlooked the lack of pink, but why was Zoey wearing a long black dress? The only thing going for it was the way it cinched at the waist, showing the wearer’s slim figure. Otherwise, it looked like something that forced the person in it to take small painstaking steps just to move about. Zoey wore thick socks wrapped over a pair of black army boots that made her feet look enormous compared to the rest of her. That was, however, the only thing of that entire outfit that revealed to Matty that his usually fun-loving bestie was somewhere underneath all that stern clothing.

Zoey obviously took delight in his shocked expression because she made a pirouette toward the middle of the room, allowing him to observe her from all angles. “Well,” she asked, “am I cultist chic already?”

So, it was a change of style. “With flying colors,” he confirmed. “The only question is: why?”

Zoey puckered her lips with an expression of glee on her small face. “This is my undercover cover.”

“Wow,” Matty said unenthusiastically. “Don’t you think it’s missing something?”

“Like what?” Zoey asked, without hiding her confusion.

“I don’t know. Some pink maybe? Or any other color, if I think about it. You look like you’re getting ready to attend some wacky funeral.”

Zoey grinned, seemingly satisfied with his fashion critique. “I suppose you could say that. It’s going to be the Implacable Team’s funeral once I’m done with them.”

“Oh,” Matty said, as the meaning of all that finally caught up with him. “This is your undercover cover, indeed. I’d say, girl,” he continued with a snicker, “that you’re going to need a stick to beat off all those doom-loving cultists once you set foot in there. But are you sure that this horrible dress is enough to make them bite? That mischievous glint in your eye might give you away.”

“That’s why I’m here, to test drive it,” Zoey explained. “On your roommate,” she added at his questioning look.

“As you can see, he’s not here,” Matty pointed out.

Zoey waved. “I saw him outside, talking to another Implacable. That’s what they call themselves. I’d say that I did earn a couple of lewd looks while walking past. It worked wonders for my self-esteem.”

“Really? Did they see you?” Matty stared, unsure of what was going on in Zoey’s head. “I mean, I bet it’s hard to see anyone from the heights of moral purity they bask themselves on.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Zoey admitted. “I was totally pulling your leg. And it’s good that they didn’t notice me. I mean, I have to be at least half invisible for this to work.”

She barely finished speaking when the door opened brusquely, letting in the d-creature they were just discussing. John examined them quickly, pushing his glasses up his nose and flaring his nostrils for a moment as if he could smell foul play.

“Hey, John,” Zoey began without delay. “I’m here to ask you something.”

John eyed her suspiciously. Matty wasn’t entirely sure his roommate recognized Zoey. After all, he had barely recognized her sans glitter.

“Hello to you, too,” John uttered without one trace of friendliness. “Ask away.”

“I was wondering if I could join your order,” Zoey said with aplomb.

Matty worried for a moment. But Zoey was a terribly good actor, innocent and hopeful, her hands linked in front of her chest as if she was waiting with bated breath for John’s approval.

“You will have to pass a test,” John said testily.

“Of course,” Zoey supplied dutifully. “I didn’t imagine that you would take in just anyone walking in from the street. Do you think you could put in a good word for me?” She tipped her head to one side and looked at him while biting her bottom lip nervously.

Matty was sitting on his bed, but he felt the need to give Zoey a standing ovation. She was playing John just the right way, getting into the coat of the lost sheep as if it had always belonged to her.

“If Matty forgives me,” John suddenly blurted out, taking both of them by surprise.

Zoey’s mask almost slipped as she turned her head to ask him without words what that was about. Matty hurried to the rescue. “If this is about the superhero outfit, it’s water under the bridge, man.”

John’s face lit up as if he had been promised endless afterlife. “Then I’ll take your friend to Connor right now.” Showing again that he had no proper notion of personal boundaries, he grabbed Zoey’s hand. “You should come with us, Matty,” he added, while dragging Zoey along, making her stumble in her tight dress. “We should all be Implacable,” he declared in a pompous tone.

Matty made a move to follow, already worried about the possessiveness John showed for Zoey, but a curt look from his bestie assured him that his help wouldn’t be seen with good eyes. “Ah, thanks, man, maybe another time. I have a ton of studying to do.”

The magic word made John waver. “I have to study too,” he said in a forlorn voice.

“I’m sure you two will make it quick,” Matty said.

Behind John, Zoey made an exasperated gesture mimicking a forehead slap. The joke, however, was lost on John. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

Zoey waved at Matty and winked. Then, her smile turned into a startled look when John pulled her away with all his force.

***

Everything had to be perfect down to the minutest detail. Rusty examined his accoutrements with the most critical eye he could muster. He grabbed the black mask and put it over his eyes while looking in the mirror. That thing was worth every penny. It covered his forehead, slipping comfortably over the nose and obscuring his left cheek while allowing unhindered vision. There were at least a few things that could give him away, but he counted on the simple fact that people didn’t look further than what they were used to seeing on a regular basis. For them, Rusty Parker, the now contested king of Sunny Hill, was a jock, a meathead, a fuck boy, whose performance at any karaoke attempt was just a reason for hilarity and nothing else. Plus, presumably, he was living the consequences of his profligate life, which meant that he was caught up in soon-to-be-a-father plans.

Sure, most students with a head still on their shoulders wouldn’t be fooled so easily, but they weren’t interested in seeing the truth to begin with. That was another little aspect of human behavior he was counting on. Mrs. May had questioned him about it and nodded in agreement as he explained his reasoning. That small smile that had curled her lips also assured him that she thought him pretty clever to come up with such ideas, and also brave enough to enact them.

He smiled as he replayed his plans through his head. The mask in the mirror remained immobile while only half his mouth seemed to be caught in that satisfied grin.

***

“What are your plans for this Saturday?” Rusty questioned Matty as soon as their tutoring session was over. To make sure Matty continued to like him all the same, he even forced himself to study for those sessions. The hardest part wasn’t that, though. It was keeping himself from jumping the guy’s bones, especially since Matty looked really sexy while playing the role of the stern professor. However, since Rusty could also make him smile when he got the answers right, all was good in the world.

“Since you won’t be here,” Matty replied, somewhat pointedly, “I suppose I will spend my time indoors, studying and such.”

“Aww, sorry to ruin your Saturday,” Rusty joked while brushing off the implied question. He hadn’t told Matty anything, and he didn’t want to lie, either. It wasn’t earning him any points with his baby dude, but his secrecy had a role to play, just as he had justified it when talking to Maddox. That was the part of him he didn’t want exposed. Only with a mask firmly wrapped around his head, he truly had the guts to let it shine. Mrs. May had had something to comment about that, but she was a kind soul. He had even managed to get her to promise that Francine Hamilton wouldn’t hear one word about his convoluted plans, although Jonathan’s mom probably had better things to do than be concerned about his secret and unusual project.

“We’ve spent quite a bit of time together this week,” Matty said and then averted his eyes. “I’m not complaining.”

Rusty didn’t know what was going on in Matty’s head and didn’t want to pry, either. After all, he had plenty of secrets himself, and it would be hypocritical to comment on others’ propensity for the same thing. “Okay, then,” he said and felt as if he should say more but, unlike most times, he had no idea what that would be.

***

Matty took a deep breath once outside Rusty’s room. There was something going on with Rusty, and the guy didn’t want to share. Right now he, Matty, also seemed to be suffering from a case of a foot in his mouth because, to any normal person’s ears, what he had just said earlier must have sounded like the words of a miffed boyfriend. Since Rusty didn’t do girlfriends, there was no way he’d do boyfriends.

Although, what could be keeping Rusty away from campus this Saturday? Matty’s thoughts went to the young woman they had met while shopping for birthday presents for Gabriel. At the time, he had decided not to make too much of that encounter. However, that didn’t mean that a little worm with green eyes wasn’t trying to gnaw its way through his heart as if it were an apple. Strangely enough, he had seen girls trying to get Rusty’s attention before, and it had never bothered him.

Mainly because Rusty’s responses had been nothing but superficial and disinterested. That wasn’t the case with August, right? Well, that made things a lot less funny than Matty was trying to make them. There was no reason for him to act like a jealous boyfriend; there was no reason for him to act up at all, regardless of what August was to Rusty, and Rusty to her.

Yet, why did he feel like a jilted partner now that he knew Rusty had plans off campus, and secret plans on top of that? He shook his head, wishing he could laugh at himself. What was he even thinking? Maybe those plans weren’t secret at all. Maybe Maddox and Rusty’s other friends knew where he was going, and there was a good reason why Rusty didn’t want to talk about them to just anyone.

Even that thought was a bit depressing. After all, it only meant that Matty wasn’t part of Rusty’s inner circle, and that hurt. At least he could expect to be considered a friend, even if he wasn’t Rusty’s boyfriend in any shape or form.

Lost as he was in his own head, he missed colliding with Jonathan at the foot of the stairs by a hair’s breadth. Jonathan laughed and caught him as he was about to end up twisting his ankle in an effort to keep from crashing into the other.

“Hello, Matty,” Jonathan said in his pleasant voice. “Is Rusty doing okay in his studies?”

Matty had heard Rusty joking about Jonathan being the ‘mom’ on more than one occasion. “Yeah, he’s doing great, actually.”

Jonathan smiled broadly and Matty felt his heart growing bigger for some reason. “I’m happy he found you,” he said.

Matty considered those words carefully and then blurted out without thinking twice. “Do you happen to know where he’s going this Saturday? I forgot to ask him,” he added quickly, feeling instantly guilty over the lie.

Jonathan seemed a bit surprised at the question. Matty cursed inwardly. Was he being stupid or what? Rusty was upstairs. They had phones. There were a gazillion opportunities for him to ask his question. However, what Jonathan said took him by surprise. “He didn’t tell any of us he’d be away this weekend.”

Not odd. Not odd at all, Matty told himself. Rusty was a free man; he could go wherever he wanted, with whomever he wanted, and there was no law that he had to tell his friends – or Matty – anything about his plans.

“Ah, I must have misunderstood him,” he said quickly and made a beeline for the door. “Have a great weekend, Jonathan,” he added brightly as he walked out.

He was behaving like an idiot, he decided as soon as he was outside. Plus, wasn’t he the pot calling the kettle black now? He intended to take Slicky Coolplums out for a run this weekend.

***

“Matty, you wouldn’t believe it,” Zoey began without any preamble. “This Saturday is going to be huge.”

“All right, all right, slow down. What do you mean?” Matty asked while moving his phone from one ear to the other.

“I’m all in, you know, deep in you know what, and this Saturday, we’re going on a rampage against party people.”

“We? Are you already part of them? I had no idea a brainwash would suit you,” Matty joked.

“Geesh, stop it. I’m blending in,” Zoey whispered.

“Why are you whispering? Is your roommate there? Where are you?” he asked, feeling his suspicion growing.

“Didn’t I just tell you? I’m deep in--”

“Okay, okay, now I’m sure you’re starting to crack. Get off the phone, and stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger. You can tell me all about it when we see each other. After all, I’m going to come over this Saturday for you know what.” Great, now they were talking like a pair of conspirators.

“Right, right. I’m going to leave the key in the usual place. I won’t be there, since now I’m part of the… you know, it.”

“Tell me in two words or less what kind of crazy you’ll get up to this Saturday.”

“You just said it. Crazy. Shoot, I can’t talk anymore. But it’s going to be a night to remember. Bye for now, Matty. I’m going to call you later, when I can, with details.”

Matty stared at his phone for a moment and then put it away with a sigh. Everyone was dealing in secrets nowadays. Rusty, Zoey, and him. Yeah, no point in judging others, for sure.

***

Why would I ever give up on being a night owl? Rusty thought as he took one deep breath before hiking himself up on the wall. He had everything well planned out. Since everyone was out partying, the campus would be his stage. From the top of the wall he could see far left and right, and the lawns were getting busier with people in the mood for drinking and partying. With midterms looming on the horizon, it was obvious most students were trying to make the best of the time they had left.

And this was his playground, Rusty thought with a smile. He was about to choose the first party to crash when the sound of a loud procession coming from the far left stopped him. What the hell was going on? He crouched on the wall and then took a seat, letting his legs dangle over, while crossing his arms and waiting for the unusual cortege to come near.

“What do we want? Order! When do we want it? Now!” The chanting was loud enough now to make out the words.

Rusty couldn’t believe the golden opportunity being delivered right into his lap. “I’ll be damned,” he murmured, as he took in the group marching by, armed with what looked like torches and slogans. They had to be Connor’s formidable shitheads by the look of it. First of all, they were a homogenous mass, and Rusty had to hand it to them that they appeared to be really disciplined. They were marching, hitting the pavement hard with their boots, and they stopped in front of one of the houses where a party seemed to be in full swing already.

Full of curiosity, he waited. The procession continued marching in place, and finally, the noise they were causing made more and more heads turn, until the music pouring out of the house in question stopped.

Someone, who appeared to be at the front of the clamoring cortege, took a few steps forward, breaking ranks, but, as Rusty quickly realized, all for a good cause. His vantage point perched on the wall afforded him a good view of the conflict brewing at his feet. This was going to be good, he thought and couldn’t help a grin.

Also, it looked like he wasn’t the only one going for a masked act tonight. The leader of the procession, all dressed in black and wearing a hoodie supposedly meant to make him look badass for the role, went straight toward a pair of well-built guys who were struggling with a beer keg, seemingly unaware that they were walking through a minefield. The masked personage grabbed the keg so suddenly that the two students didn’t understand what was going on at first. Surprised with his unexpected success, the guy hesitated for a moment, but then, he threw one arm up, a call to arms of sorts. “Seize all the alcohol!”

His followers took the order to heart, and they lunged over the lawn, pushing people out of their way. The two jocks in charge of the keg finally caught up with what was going on and tried to get their property back. However, in the confusion caused by the surprise attack, the keg had fallen as the first victim and was now on its side, foaming at the mouth and giving up its last breath. Rusty said a few words in its memory quietly to himself, with all the piety he could muster.

The party people were too stunned by the attack of the masked mob, so bottles were littering the lawn soon enough, their contents spilled directly on the grass. That can’t be good for the environment, Rusty thought and shook his head.

Delighted with their first success, the procession of black hoodies rushed toward the next lawn but, this time, the party goers were better prepared. Some of the masked guys and gals got pushed back and their leader gestured for them to fall back and regroup.

Disgruntled shouts could be heard everywhere, especially coming from those who had no booze left thanks to the impromptu intervention, and sides were getting formed. Just as he was thinking that things were getting out of hand and campus security had to take action, a shout came from the far left. “It’s the cat boy!”

What? For real? This night is just getting better and better, Rusty thought, his face muscles already cramping from all the fun he was having. His gaze followed the outstretched arms and took in Slicky Coolplums hanging from the lowest branch of a tree, seemingly intent on mocking the crowd. The righteous destruction of booze appeared to have been abandoned in favor of a worthier cause.

The masked guys turned their whole attention to Slicky, who, now aware of having drawn their focus, grabbed a higher branch of the tree and hiked himself up, while swinging his tail with his usual elegance.

“Take him down!” someone bellowed, and the crowd surrounded the tree and began to shake it, although their efforts were hilarious given how thick the trunk was. However, since they were smacking their fists against the bark, some shaking was starting to show and, for a moment, Rusty worried that Slicky was on the point of losing his balance.

No, no, that was just an act with the intention of mocking the crowd below. Other students were watching the show, and they seemed mesmerized by it. The spilled booze was forgotten, as something a lot more interesting appeared to be happening in front of their very eyes.

“Do you think I’m a girl?” Slicky shouted in his usual shrilly voice. “Check this!” He was holding himself with one arm and with the other, he made a lewd gesture, moving it down his lean abdomen and stopping right above his sex. Then, he pushed his hips forward, making the mob below gasp in outrage.

“Get him down! Unmask him!” Cries of anger emerged from everywhere.

Uh-uh, weren’t they the hypocrites now?

Slicky laughed and swung his hips, making sure to draw attention to that particular part of his anatomy. However, caught up as he was in the act he was putting on, he missed one of his masked enemies climbing on a lower branch and trying to grab his foot. He jumped out of the way just in time and then climbed higher. Spurred on by being made fun of, the Implacables, because there was no way they were anyone else, began to attack the tree.

Rusty pushed himself off the wall. Now, this situation called for an intervention. Carefully, his eyes on the prize, aka the cat boy, he slunk around, making sure that no one noticed him, and used another tree to climb up and then jump onto the roof of a nearby building. In the meantime, Slicky was starting to have a hard time fending off his attackers, so Rusty cleared his throat for a moment to achieve the tonality he was going for, and then began. “Give me thy hand, sweet creature of the night,” he sang, going for a lower register, the one Mrs. May had told him to practice and explore.

Everyone stopped at the sound of his loud voice, as if a magical wand had snatched away their ability to speak, yell, and grunt. Slicky turned his head, and Rusty opened his arms wide. It was not only for Slicky’s sake, but also because that way, the cape on his shoulders would billow in the night breeze, showing its shockingly red interior.

“Who the fuck is that?” someone from below cried out.

Rusty gestured for Slicky to jump into his arms. The cat boy looked down at his attackers getting nearer on the lower branches, hesitated in pure feline fashion, but then, pressured by the incoming mob, he threw himself forward. Rusty quickly wrapped one arm around his waist and used the cape to protect him from the eyes of those unworthy onlookers. Briefly, he placed his lips on Slicky’s moist mouth and made them both turn in a waltz-like pirouette. “And now, I’ll make you disappear,” he continued in the same baritone register. “Go,” he whispered to Slicky and obscured his running away by turning his back and throwing his arms wide like a magician executing his prestige.

He didn’t look to see if the cat boy was making himself scarce. Behind his cape, he was, indeed, invisible.

***

Who was that? Matty wondered, throwing one last look over his shoulder at the tall figure in the moonlight, standing there with his arms extended while mocking the crowd at his feet and singing… some sort of opera? He rushed away, his heart beating wildly. When Zoey had told him where the Implacables were going to hit, he had thought it was a great idea to go and crash their party-crashing plans and end up being featured on the cover of Xpress for Rusty’s amusement when he got back from his weekend.

However, he had underestimated, and grossly at that, just how determined Connor’s team was. That had been a really close call, with the mob climbing the tree and trying to get him. In hindsight, he could have chosen to jump on the roof of the building anyway to save himself but being helped out had come as a big surprise.

He stopped at the edge of the roof, looking back one more time. Whoever that had been, he had an amazing voice, nothing like anyone else Matty had ever heard or listened to in his entire life. When the enigmatic stranger had kissed him, he had experienced a wave of familiarity, but…

Matty shook his head. He missed Rusty, even if it had barely been thirty hours or so since they had seen each other last. And now he was imagining that the dark handsome stranger, in his heavy luxurious cape with his black hair swept back and wearing the costume of an opera star, was the guy he was in love with. It couldn’t be, right? The general consensus was that Rusty couldn’t sing for shit, that was something he had heard someone saying at one point – but who was it then? – and, also, he was away for the weekend.

A small shiver coursed through him as his heartbeat settled to a steadier rhythm. In the distance, the stranger stood tall, and sounds of awe from the audience could be heard from time to time, followed by clapping.

It looked like someone was stealing the headlines from Connor. Matty couldn’t keep in a snicker. Well, Rusty would have a grand time hearing about all the astonishing things that had happened tonight… but he wouldn’t hear them from him. After all, he, Matty, was supposed to be deep in study or even asleep at that hour.

He touched his lips for a moment, where the stranger had kissed him. He had only felt the other’s lips partially, as the mask he was wearing covered almost his entire face save for half his mouth and part of his right cheek. There was also quite a strong smell of some haircare product that had invaded his nose during their short encounter. He was pretty sure Zoey was using something similar, so he would have to ask her about it later.

What could she be doing by now? He had noticed someone short and energetic in the mob chasing him, and it had to be her. What gave her away was how she had continuously grabbed people to drag them down from the tree while yelling the hardest and pretending to be crazed about being the one who wanted to catch the cat boy. No one had seemed to notice, but, still, Matty shivered again.

Damn, they were getting into some dangerous game, weren’t they? All of them?

***

Rusty was beyond pleased. The finale of his aria was met with applause and demands for encores. The only ones ruining the mood had been the Implacables, but even their energy eventually ran out, and, at first, they had waited by the foot of the tree, only to make themselves disappear little by little.

Yes, he thought, that was more like it. He wrapped his cape around himself. “Have fun, my lieblings,” he boomed. “And remember the name Rybalt, belonging to the one who saved your night. Farewell for now. You’ll hear from me again.”

With that promise, he turned on his heel and made his grand exit. Too bad the cat boy was no longer there. A part of him had wished for Slicky to be waiting for him in the distance.

Alas, one couldn’t have everything.

***

Oh, dears, did you hear a divine voice last night, cutting through the din of parties and bottles getting smashed by the Implacable Team – yes, yes, we know who it was, masks or not – in an effort to reestablish the cursed days of prohibition? A war is underway, guys and gals of Sunny Hill, a war of one against an army. And boy, we love us an underdog.

We do. And his name is Rybalt. If you noticed that R splashed all over the door to the room where the Implacable Team is holding its daily fastidious planning of how to ruin your youth, hopes and dreams (of fucking up) then you know who your masked hero is. Yes, we know, we messed up at the time, wrongly suspecting our local hero Rusty Parker of being the author of the aforementioned prank.

We’re not too proud to stand corrected. Now, on to the burning questions that won’t let our poor souls rest. Is Rybalt a student here? But since when do we house such endowed singers in our midst?

Stay tuned. The true identity of our new masked hero will be revealed here. At the right moment, as you know is our way by now.

TBC