Misentrope - 1. Chapter 1

The desert wind softly caressed his face, its warmth and fragrance ghosting gently over his skin. The heat of the day was finally waning. In the distance, he could hear the camels rustling as they slowly chewed on their dinner. His legs were starting to hurt slightly from staying in a kneeling position for too long. The floor of the tent was covered by soft, colorful carpets, but even that wasn’t enough. He tried once more to shift his position so he could sit on his side, but the restraints which connected his wrists to his ankles were too short to allow such movement. The collar around his neck was strapped to a tent pole, making it impossible to simply fall over. Not to mention the embarrassment of being found in such an undignified position.

It had been a long, stifling day even in the surprisingly dark tent. After being cooped up for hours in the stagnant air, he longed to feel the freshness of the evening breeze. The hint of a draft that wafted in through the flaps of the tent was not enough to bring any freshness. His clothes itched, both from dried sweat pulling at the tiny hairs on his body, and from the garb so foreign to him. Gone were his uniform and weapons and with them a sizeable chunk of his pride. Instead, they had dressed him in what he could only describe as a simple cotton night shirt. He was unaccustomed to wear such things other out of the privacy of his bedroom. It just wasn’t proper. The clothes made him feel like a child or, worse, like a mere woman. The fact that they all wore them made no difference. They were the enemy. Savages, the lot of them. Destined to be conquered. However, despite the superiority of his regiment, the resistance had been unexpectedly fierce. In the midst of battle, he found himself thrown from his horse and in the mayhem and chaos, he got separated from his troop. As a lonely soldier wandering the battlefield, he was easy prey and swiftly captured.

He was sure they were going to kill him, since he held little bargaining value as a mid-ranking officer. Steeling his resolve, he vowed to himself he would face his death valiantly. Moments before the deed was to be done, already a fearsome sword glinting in the setting sun raised above his head, something stopped his executioner. A single shouted order in their garbled language changed his destiny. They had stripped him of all things familiar and forced him to a tent. There, in the obscure recesses he had met him. That damned demon, who, little by little and in astoundingly good English, whispered poisoned words into his ear, luring him to abandon his beliefs, his morals and his country.

Quiet steps outside made him shiver. Sandals on sand. He was coming back. The flaps of the tent rustled. He hastily straightened his back, placed his hands on his thighs and sat up properly on his knees. All the while hating himself for it, but unable to resist. He had to be good.

“Very good. You please me.”

The voice he hated and yet longed for sent a bolt of desire through his body, ending up in his crotch. That damned man. The devil incarnate. He forced his eyes to remain trained on the carpet in front of him, trying to ignore his captor. His resilience only earned him a low chuckle.

“So stubborn.” Fingers grazed the back of his head, making every hair on his body stand up as if to salute. Then those fingers tightened in his hair and tilted his head back. The darkest eyes trapped him with a searing gaze, setting his body aflame. “You will submit to me.”

“Never.” His voice wavered from lack of conviction. His nostrils filled with the spicy scent of his captor. Their eyes dueled fiercely, and he couldn’t look away. So close. They were so close. Heat from the other man’s skin made his body respond with a passion he had never experienced before. He had to be strong. He had to resist this devil of the desert. But he couldn’t move. Helpless, he had to let it happen. Fate would have her way.

As their lips finally met in a crushing kiss, he tumbled over the edge of lust. Morals be damned! All he wanted was to feel the heat of their bodies as they joined in the need of the flesh. He needed…

----

“It’s burning.” A slightly annoyed voice penetrated his thoughts.

“Huh?” Devon blinked as if he only just then realized he was in his own kitchen and not in a faraway desert about to be seduced by a sheik.

“The toast. You’re burning it.” With an obviously suppressed sigh, Fabian reached past him and retrieved the two slices from the toaster. They were indeed black. Inedible. A slight frown between Fabian’s eyebrows appeared. “These won’t do.” He discarded them in the sink with a flick of his wrist.

“I’ll make some more.” Rushing to put new slices in, Devon fumbled and dropped one of them on the floor. “It’ll be quick.”

After a glance at his watch, Fabian shook his head.

“Never mind. No time. I’ve got to go.” He gave Devon a peck on his head, downed half a cup of coffee and headed for the door. “See you later, sweetie!”

And then he was gone. The silence in his wake made Devon deflate. His appetite was gone, and he figured he might as well get going. He exited the kitchen without having any toast.

In the hall, he paused for a moment. School would start soon, and the kids would already be waiting for him. The mere thought of his work stirred the usual feelings of unease. Pushing the sense of impending doom to the back of his head, he pulled on his jacket, grabbed his bag and left the house.

In the car, he went over the day’s schedule in his mind. The usual kids with the usual problems. Some merely skipping school on occasion, while others were in more serious trouble with violent outbursts and severe attitude issues. All in a day’s work. Save the world. Nothing major.

He hurried through the halls of the school, wanting to have at least a few moments to himself before the parents of his first student showed up.

“Hey, Mr. Twitcher!” The shouted greeting caused giggles to flare up all around. He flinched and then ducked his head, as if the move would make him invisible.

“Made you jump!” More giggles erupted.

“That’s Mr. Treacher, and you know it.” He bit his tongue to make himself shut up. Answering them was not a good idea. It led nowhere, except letting them know their name calling bothered him. Strangely enough, it did. He knew he should be over it by now, after doing this for almost ten years. Somehow, it still brought him down. He was only trying his best to help those in need. Since his method was therapy sessions and not the physical correction or shouting more commonly used in this neighborhood, the kids had deemed him weak and therefore suitable to pick on. They never picked on the PE-guy. Lengthening his stride, he left the group of kids behind. Their laughter followed him.

As he came in to his room, he dumped his bag on the floor and hung up his jacket. After grabbing the folder lying on his desk, he sat in his stuffed chair to read. The same story as always. Boy, 12 years old, repeated instances of disruptive behavior. Teacher at her wits end and asking for him to intervene. No severe physical violence, but there were mentions of the odd, brief altercation with a few class mates.

A knock on the door told him his prep time was up. After greeting the parents with a smile and only getting a terse nod in return, Devon prepared for the worst. They sat down at his mock-homey couch set and the silence quickly became oppressive.

“So, I asked you to come here to talk about Ryder.” Nothing but hostile stares met his words. “There’ve been a few incidents lately and Ms. Fulham was concerned there may be something going on with Ryder that the school isn’t aware of. Something at home perhaps…?”

A fist hit the table so hard it made the tea cups rattle.

“At home? So, it’s our fault you can’t keep the discipline in the classroom!” The father turned red-faced instantly. “There’s nothing going on at home. Work takes up all of my time, and with the amount of taxes we pay we should be able to rely on school to provide a structured environment where Ryder can feel safe to express himself.”

“Express himself…?” Devon tried to gather his thoughts quickly. “This is about Ryder yelling profanities at his teacher.”

“He should feel free to express his thoughts without fear of oppression.” Righteousness tinted the man’s words, contrasting strangely against the angry expression on his face.

“I’m sure you realize we can’t allow–”

“So you seek to censure the children in their formative years? What sort of institution are you running here?” Leaning forward, the father appeared to be challenging Devon.

For a moment, Devon was speechless. Then fatigue hit him hard and unexpectedly. He had to trudge on, despite wanting to simply go home.

“Calling a teacher the c-word does not fall under freedom of expression.”

“So what is your plan for Ryder? How will you ensure this sort of thing doesn’t happen again?”

“Me?” Devon shuffled the papers in the folder in front of him. “I was hoping you could discuss this with your son.”

“He never uses that sort of language at home. You need to deal with his behavior here. That is your responsibility.” The father stood up, prompting the still silent mother to follow suit. “I expect this to be the end of this nonsense. Don’t bother us again about issues that are clearly your business.”

He turned and left the room. The mother gave an apologetic smile and hurried after him. Devon was left with a sense of emptiness. How had all this suddenly and exclusively become the school’s problem? It wasn’t the first time he had heard similar arguments. As if parents had no other obligations than to pay taxes. Paying taxes apparently made troubles or rather responsibilities go away. He sank back against the couch, closing his eyes to retain what was left of his sanity.

-------

“Doctor, we’re losing him!” That annoying hint of despair laced his voice as he struggled to keep even steps with Dr. Lauden. The man was going through clamps and scalpels at lightning speed and he struggled to keep the supply coming. The doctor’s hands were almost a flurry of activity. Still, it didn’t seem enough. There was too much blood lost, most of it smeared on their scrubs and gloves.

“Not on my watch!” A flash of that devilish smile accompanied by a wink made his stomach do a flip. He wished, as many times before, he could remain as calm and collected when faced with such terrible odds.

“BP’s dropping again.” The anesthetist raised the alarm, spiking the stress levels even further.

“I’ll save him, if it’s the last thing I do!” Dr. Lauden stuck his hands further inside the patient’s body. “Where is that bleed…?” He shook his head. “Wipe!”

Sebastian jumped forward and blotted the man’s forehead. Thanks to their closeness, he got a whiff of the man’s cologne. Powerful and impressive. Just like the man himself. He suppressed a sigh, but not well enough. A glance filled with meaningful mischief out the corner of the doctor’s eye let him know he had failed in his attempt to be unperturbed by the man’s excellence. Damn it! Why couldn’t he keep his defenses impenetrable? It wasn’t professional to let himself be distracted.

A loud beep directed his attention firmly back to the patient.

“V-fib!” The tension in the room ratcheted yet another notch.

“Commence CPR. Prepare to shock him!” Orders were yelled across the room, all of the staff working together like a finely tuned machine. It made Sebastian proud to be part of such an amazing trauma team. And it was all due to Dr. Lauden. He had trimmed their performance until it ran as the tight ship he demanded. A perfectionist with the skills to back it up. If only he wasn’t so dashingly handsome. There were regulations on inter-staff relationships. Sebastian did not want to lose his job, but it was getting increasingly difficult.

“Shocking! Everyone step away!” They watched the monitor with bated breath.

“Sinus rhythm!”

“I’ll close that bleed and then let’s get him off to the OR.” Dr. Lauden dove back in, fearlessly continuing his fight for the patient’s life. With a final few stitches, he made sure the guy would be stable enough for surgery.

As they watched the man being wheeled out of the ER, Sebastian could feel the doctor’s presence next to him. He busied himself with some paperwork but could not concentrate due to the feeling of electricity permeating the room.

“How long will you keep me waiting?” Dr. Lauden was standing much too close behind him, his warm breath against his ear sending shivers through his body. His instincts told him to run, but instead he froze in place.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t lie to me.” Strong hands grabbed his hips from behind. “You drive me crazy acting so coy. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me. The longing in your eyes.” The doctor pressed his body against Sebastian’s back, making sure he could feel the outline of his very hard cock grinding against his ass.

“Doctor!” Sebastian spun around, his flushed face burning. The man didn’t move, didn’t back off. Instead he leaned in and forced Sebastian to meet his eyes. Electric blue piercing his light hazel.

“I will have you and you will let me.”

Their lips were so close now. Breaths mingled. Far too close. Sebastian struggled with his conscience and his work ethics. This was wrong. But why did it feel so right? He was painfully hard and leaking.

“Kiss me!”

With a yelp, Sebastian turned and twisted out of the doctor’s grasp. He ran out of the room and didn’t dare to stop until he was safely in the nurses’ lounge. Why was he so weak? Why did Dr. Lauden make his knees so wobbly?

----

“What’s for dinner?”

Fabian dropped his keys in the little bowl on the side table next to the fridge and plugged his phone to the charger. Absentmindedly, he leaned over and gave Devon a peck on the cheek, not really taking his eyes of the screen of his phone.

“I just made some pasta. Wasn’t in the mood for cooking.” Staring at the creamy chicken sauce, Devon shrugged. He hadn’t been paying any attention to the meal he was preparing, as his mind was wandering to more exciting places.

Fabian crinkled his eyebrows.

“I thought we said we were going to cut back on carbs?” It wasn’t exactly reproach, but enough to send Devon’s mood in a rapid downward spiral. As if sensing this shift, Fabian hastily put downs his phone and embraced Devon from behind.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” A soft kiss at the base of Devon’s neck smoothed some of his ruffled feathers. Fabian’s warm breath against his skin eased the tension in his body.

“One of those days?”

“Yup.”

“You should quit that place. It’s wearing you down to a nub.”

Devon’s shoulders locked in position once more. He leaned away from Fabian, pretending the sauce needed stirring.

“But we need the money.” The words barely made it out between his clenched teeth.

“No, we don’t.”

“Well, ok. I need the money.” Devon turned in his boyfriend’s arms but couldn’t quite bring him to stare Fabian in the eyes. “You know I don’t want to be dependent on you like that. I need to work. I need to have my own life.”

“But what kind of life is it if you constantly feel depleted of all energy? You don’t even like those kids!”

“I do too!”

“Let’s just eat and try to have a nice evening, please?” Fabian kissed him on the tip of his nose, effectively ending the discussion. Dinner was eaten in the silent wake of the low-level argument.

The exchange of words was one they’d had many times before. It didn’t help that Devon realized Fabian was right. His current place of work was definitely more woe than joy at the moment, but he couldn’t seem to make a change. Maybe because deep down he knew he was making a difference. If not for all the kids he saw, then at least for some. However, the perceived inertia only grew as time passed, and it threatened to pull him down if he couldn’t break out of his gloomy and restless state of mind. He felt as if he should have more in his life. He couldn’t figure out what, though.

----

Rex Carrington leaned back in his chair, a pleased look plastered across his annoyingly handsome face.

“I told you not to play with the big boys, Czar.”

Oh, how he wanted to wipe that smirk from his lips. Those luscious lips, hiding perfect pearly whites paired with an enticing tongue that snaked out on occasion to wet the lips. Almost like a feral beast, watching its prey. He shook his head to clear the unwanted images.

“And that would be you?” Making sure to keep his facial expression under control, he sauntered casually over to his briefcase, which he had deposited on a coffee table as he entered the awe-inspiring and spacious office of his sworn enemy. “Tell me, how many big boys have lost the control of their company through sheer stupidity?” Triumphantly, he withdrew the share certificates and returned to his position in front of the huge glass topped desk. He waved the documents in Rex’ face. His actions had an immediate effect. The smugness drained from his opponent’s face like water down a sink.

“What are those?” Rex rose behind his desk.

If Czar wasn’t mistaken the man’s attractive feature had turned a few shades paler.

“Just what you think they are.”

“He wouldn’t sell to you!” Disbelief was written across the handsome features of his archenemy.

“If the price is right, everyone is selling. You’ve told me that yourself.” He allowed himself a little smugness but kept from counting his chickens before they were hatched. This still was not over.

Rex bolted around the desk and lunged for the papers. Czar kept them out of reach above his head but had to take a few steps back to avoid the attack. He tried to keep Rex at a distance by placing his free hand on the man’s chest.

“Give me those!”

Rex pushed him across the room and up against the wall. Pinning him to the wall, Rex grabbed him by his wrists and pushed his hands up over his head. The papers got crumpled in Czar’s hand as he did his best to hold on to them. A knee between Czar’s legs immobilized his lower body. Anger shone from Rex’ cool blue eyes. Anger and something else.

“Fuck off!” Czar tried to squirm out the man’s grasp, but Rex had always been the bigger and stronger man. “Take your hands off me!”

“You’d like that, huh? Just walk out of here with my future in your hands. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let you go.” They stared into each other’s eyes, gazes locked. Their labored breathing mingled as their chest rose and fell, both from the promise of a fight and from that strange feeling which seemed to grow between them. Czar could feel the heat from the other man as their bodies pressed against each other.

Suddenly, those unwanted thoughts flooded his mind again. He tried to push them away as always, but their closeness made his attempts futile. Without thinking, he angled his hips ever so slightly upwards, grinding deliciously against Rex’ leg. The other man licked his lips. A fraction of a second later, their mouths crashed together. The documents fell to the floor as Czar grabbed hold of Rex’ neck, pulling the man closer. As they slid downward against the wall, Rex clawed at their belts and buttons.

“Damn it!” It was the last conscious thought to cross Czar’s mind before both men were taken over by pure lust.

----

“I doubt that pot is going to get any cleaner…”

“Huh?” His boyfriend’s voice shook Devon out of his daydream.

Fabian smiled and pointed to the kitchen sink. Looking down, Devon saw the pot he had been scrubbing. He turned his confused face to Fabian.

“You’ve been washing that pot for over 20 minutes.” Fabian tilted his head. “Are you feeling OK?”

“Yeah, sure. Just distracted by my thoughts.” With a shrug, Devon tried to dismiss the topic.

“What were you thinking of?”

“Have you ever wondered if there’s supposed to be more to life? More than this routine, day in and day out. Everything happening as before. No surprises. No grand romantic adventures left.” The words poured out of Devon before he could stop them. His brain still seemed to be offline and didn’t stop him until it was too late. Or was it? Fabian stared at him, but had he actually listened?

“What are you talking about? You aren’t making any sense.”

So, no. He wasn’t listening. Both relieved and disappointed, Devon shook his head.

“It’s nothing.”

Fabian sighed and deflated as if he would drop the subject, but then he squared his shoulders.

“What is going on?” Before Devon could answer, Fabian held up his hand. “And don’t say ‘nothing’ again. I’m sick and tired of that damn word. I find you all over the apartment, a glazed look in your eyes and miles away. And you say it’s nothing? As if living with half a person is nothing!” Fabian had gradually raised his voice, something he never did.

Devon tried to think of something to say, but his mind went blank. Frustrated, Fabian rubbed his face with his hands.

“You’re just going to stand there silent? Is that it?”

“There’s nothing to say…”

“Don’t say that bloody word! Of course, there is something! Or you wouldn’t be miles away!” Fabian stared at him. “Is it that school? Those no good kids aren’t worth your health.”

Anger sparked in Devon.

“It’s not the kids!”

“Then what is it? Are you seeing someone else?”

“What? No!” Devon couldn’t believe Fabian had asked him that. Cheating?

“Well, what am I supposed to think when you are so distant all the time? You are shutting me out and won’t even tell me what’s wrong.”

How would he explain the feeling of wanting something else, something more? He didn’t even understand it himself. The situation at work didn’t help, but this vague sense of missing something or needing something came from some other place.

“I know it’s stupid, but I see movies and read books filled with the adventures of other people’s lives. Then I look at my own, dull existence.” Devon gestured toward the sink filled with dishes. “It’s not as if I seriously expect anything extraordinary to happen. I just wonder if this is how it’s supposed to be from now on? All routine and no more surprises.”

“Surprises?” The look on Fabian’s face said it all. He had no idea what Devon was talking about.

“You know, the thrill of seduction, forbidden romance, excitement, mystery, wooing.” Seeing the look in Fabian’s eyes, Devon shook his head. “I told you it was stupid. But that’s what I’m thinking about.”

Instinctively, Devon rotated the ring on his finger. It still felt new and foreign. Of course, Fabian didn’t miss the action.

“I honestly don’t understand what you are talking about. You regret getting engaged? Is that it? You just have to tell me. We can work this out.”

“No, it’s not that.” It hurt to think Fabian would believe he didn’t want to wear his ring. It was all just so final, when it was supposed to be the start. Could it be cold feet?

“Then what?” Fabian pressed on.

Before Devon could stop himself, the answer crossed his lips.

“Nothing.” It was easier to let that one, spiteful word slip out than to verbalize the complicated and muddy thoughts of his innermost self. Did he even know what was wrong? Was anything actually wrong?

In exasperation, Fabian threw his arms up and then hastily left the kitchen. Devon followed anxiously. He watched Fabian grab his jacket and head out.

“Where are you going?”

“Just out for a walk.”

-----

In the dark, he spun in the sheets. Something had woken him up, stirred the far recesses of his mind. The sweat was cooling off his exposed skin, sending shivers down his spine. Or did those tremors originate from somewhere else? Someone else?

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an unexpected movement and he sat up straight in the bed. The air felt thicker, almost syrupy and drawing breath became harder.

“Who’s there?” Narrowing his eyes, he tried to penetrate the dark but in vain. He realized he had not seen the movement as much as felt it. There was a presence in his room, looming at the edge of his consciousness.

Soft rustle of fabric startled him. The presence had positioned itself by the bed. He reached to turn on his lamp, only to be stopped dead by a hand gripping his wrist.

“Leave it off. We don’t need the light to know this is meant to be. There’s no escape. And if you look into your heart, you know you don’t want to run.” The scarce light glinted on a self-assured smile, revealing teeth ready to strike.

His pulse sped up from fear of the unknown laced with an undercurrent of excitement, but he made no attempt to retract his hand. Was that the truth? Did he want this? The pull was so strong, almost magnetic. Yes, he wanted this. He needed this. To ever think he could resist was ridiculous.

A depression of the bed next to him told him he wasn’t alone in bed anymore. Slowly, he reached out with his free hand and touched the man beside him. The warmth from the body next to him was alluring, but there was something in the way. What was that? His fingers got tangled up in too much fabric. Ruffles? Were those ruffles? And velvet?

He reached over to the lamp and turned it on. The sight made him giggle and break the mood.

“What are you wearing?”

Fabian was sitting next to him on the bed, dressed in some velvet frock coat and a white shirt with ruffles running down his chest. He looked utterly ridiculous.

“Trying for a part in the new Anne Rice movie?” The giggles grew to outright laughter and Devon collapsed back on the bed, clutching his stomach.

“Well, I was just thinking of what you said. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we need something new.”

“Wait, is that a ponytail? With a ribbon?” Devon was overtaken by more laughter.

“I have to look the part!” Fabian flipped the faux-tail with mock haughtiness. “And I totally pull it off.”

Shaking his head and still giggling, Devon sat up and reached for the ridiculous add-on. With a swift move, he snatched it away.

“Hey!”

“If you think something new entails you dressing like a loon, you are sorely mistaken.” A soft kiss took the edge off the words. The men fell silent as they regarded each other.

“I don’t want you to feel like this is routine, because what I feel for you will never be routine.” Fabian caressed his cheek. “At times, we will lose sight of what actually matters and not be as close as we can and should be. That doesn’t mean I don’t think sharing my life with you is anything but amazing. It hurts to think you want something else, and that I may not be part of that future.”

Fabian’s words hit Devon straight in the gut.

“But that’s not it. That’s not it at all!” He searched for the right way to explain himself. “I think we both need to remember to make an effort to be exciting. Then I won’t lose myself in those silly fantasies.”

“And I won’t treat you like part of the furniture.” The contrite look on Fabian’s face was another punch to the stomach.

“But you don’t!”

“All too often, I do.” Softly, Fabian traced his fingers down Devon’s cheek. They regarded each other in silence again. “I do love you, you know.”

“I know.” Devon played with the ruffles of Fabian’s shirt. Once again, he was overcome by the ridiculousness of Fabian’s idea for added excitement and the giggling bubbled up inside him. He leaned in and gave Fabian another kiss.

“If we could just get you out of this shirt…” Devon fumbled with the buttons, only to be helped by Fabian. The fumbling brought them closer together and the proximity sparked a need in them. The giggling stopped abruptly as breathing quickened and heat rose between them. This was a dance they had performed many times before, but somehow it felt new and exciting. Maybe playing dress up hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

The next morning, his steps up to the school gates were not as heavy as they had been lately. However, Devon realized things would not magically be all better just because the previous night had been one of passion. It was a first step, though. A way to break down walls and open lines of communication. Taking their relationship to a better place and moving forward. He raised his eyes and stared at the school gates. If only the same could be said about his work.

“Mr. Treacher?” The voice reached him from behind and he turned, expecting to see the usual disgruntled parent or insolent kid. Instead, he saw a young man biting his lip and nervously twisting a cap in his hands. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Devon couldn’t place him.

“Yes?” He took a few steps towards the man, unsure of what to expect.

“I don’t know if you remember me…”

Suddenly, a memory flashed through Devon’s mind.

“Samuel?” Bits and pieces of their joint past surfaced. Long talks in his office, with anger and frustration on both sides. A drawn-out struggle to get through to a bright, but troubled kid. Parents at the end of their rope and taking it out on him.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He approached Devon. For a moment, he stood there silent as if unsure of how to continue. “I’m in town for a few days visiting my parents and I just wanted to come by and say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not giving up on me, when so many others did. Without you, I would never have graduated and definitely wouldn’t have gone to college. I’m graduating soon and it looks like I have a job waiting for me.”

“Wow, that’s great. I’m really happy for you.” Devon was surprised at the emotion that rose in him. “But it’s your achievement, not mine.”

“But it is yours as well. You saved me. So thank you.” Awkwardly, Samuel stuck out his hand. Devon grasped it. They regarded each other in silence, no words needed to express the feeling between them.

Then as suddenly as he had shown up, Samuel turned and walked away. Devon was left with a smile on his face and a warm feeling in his gut. The final few steps up to the entrance of the school had never felt lighter. Maybe he did make a difference. Maybe life was brighter than he realized.