Title: Vulgarity

Author: Sasa (Mizery-Rose)

Rating: PG-13 Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13. This signifies that the film rated may be inappropriate for pre-teens. Parents should be especially careful about letting their younger children attend. Rough or persistent violence is absent; sexually-oriented nudity is generally absent; some scenes of drug use may be seen; one use of the harsher sexually derived words may be heard.

Summary: It’s funny how the little things in life can change us, lead us on different roads, and make us realize things about ourselves we never noticed before. When sixteen year old Jay Parker falls for a new guy in school, he lands head first into a world he never imagined existed, and his life heads in a whole new direction.

Author's Notes: A new piece, hitting closer to home for me. The majority of the story will be based on my own encounters with the subcultures that exist in Middle America, however the plotline is fictional. All characters are fictional and do not represent any people, real or fictional, and any resemblances are purely coincidental. Drug use and examinations of sexuality will be touched upon, however this piece in no way glorifies drugs, nor is it meant to pressure anyone into fitting gender or cultural stereotypes.

Introduction – Occursus

            As I sit on the bus, I’m lulled in and out of consciousness, serenaded by thrashing guitars and a small man screaming in my ears. In other words, I’m listening to music. At six something in the morning, I’d much rather be wrapped in a nice warm blanket drinking hot cocoa -- or asleep. Being asleep would work. My CD player skips one time too many for my liking as the huge hunk of junk I’m in lurches over a pothole, and I pull my headphones off my ears and stuff them into my book bag.  I resist the urge to run a hand through my perfectly styled hair… Okay, okay; so I just dropped a glob of gel in my lovely blue dyed locks this morning and ran my hands through it, trying to make it look presentable, or at least like I meant it to do whatever it was doing. I’m not sure if the attempt worked, but right now, I don’t really care.

            Stifling a yawn, I glance out the window as the bus makes yet another stop. I used to enjoy sitting here, in the back, watching the people who got on and off. After repeating the same routine daily for a few years, the novelty of it has worn off for me. Somehow though, I catch a glance of the teen stepping inside. I look again. Wow. Okay, I didn’t just think that, and no I’m not staring at some stranger – some surprisingly hot stranger. I really suck at lying to myself. I’m definitely awake now, though still not quite certain about the state of my hair. The kid glances in my direction, I glance down at my hands. Shy? Since when is Jay Parker shy? It’s definitely too early in the morning. I lean against the window and close my eyes. It’s way too early. I miss summer.

            My eyes shoot open again when someone sits down next to me. No one ever sits down next to me. You know the freak at the back of the bus that’s avoided by everyone, even the creepy people? I’m that freak. So you can imagine my surprise when my space is invaded – by none other than hottie stranger. This is an interesting way to start junior year. Just grr-eat! I need to stop eating sugar corn flakes in the morning. Anyways, I turn to the guy who had the nerve to sit down next to me, and get this: he says hi. Either he’s blind, stupid, or just doesn’t care. In which case, he’d be both. Anyways, I grace him with a reply, sort of. “What do you want?” It comes out more like “whayoowon?” but slightly more menacing. I hope. He grins at me. Obviously has a hearing problem as well.

            “You awake?” After this, he continues to grin. I wonder if his face is stuck that way, like how your parents always warn you “don’t make faces, it might stay like that!”

            “No.” I pull out a magazine and flip through it, hoping to show that I really don’t want to hold a conversation.

            “What’s that?” He looks at the magazine. At least he hasn’t asked who the hot chicks are yet, or why I’m reading it backwards, or what those funny symbols mean.

            “Magazine.” I go back to reading. Good interview. This guy always gives hilarious answers.

            “I can see that.” He glances at it more.

            “Then why’d you ask? And I know you can’t read it, so stop staring at it like you can if you try hard enough.” I shoot him a glare, and turn the page.

            “Wow, more than one word. I’m amazed.” His grin is getting obnoxious.

            “Fuck you.”

            “Is that a threat, or a promise?” Really obnoxious – wait, what did he just say?

            “Dude…” I close the magazine, using my finger as a bookmark, and give him a weird look. Okay I’m reading too much into this. “Take a hint – and shoo, fly.”

            “My name’s not fly, it’s Scott.” His grin is starting to falter, and I finally take the time to get a better look. Dark spiked hair, dark eyes too. The type you could lose yourself in. Great lips. Not too thin, not too thick. Perfect. They look soft, too. Cute ears. Each lobe is adorned by it’s own silver hoop. Nice facial structure well sculpted but fairly androgynous. Jesus, I’m taking this guy apart like a statue. Oh well…

            “Nice to meet you, Scott. I’m Jay.” It’s his turn to give me a funny look. I smile slightly, and cast a glance at his attire. Black concert t-shirt, advertising Queens Of The Stone Age. All right, not scoring too many points, but not losing any either. The pants though, would cause one to believe the owner was a girl, if it weren’t for the slight bulge begging to differ.  Ah, moving on. Combat type boots, with platforms. I think. Interesting style. I look back to him.

            “Do I meet your standards, O Great One?” He grins. Lucky I like him so far.

            “We’ll see.”

            “Meet me at lunch?”

            “4th period?” It’s only now that I realize he’s also toting a book bag, and getting ready to walk off at the same place I usually do.

            “Yeah.”

            “Okay, sure.” I wonder what gods chose to give us the same lunch period too, before remembering my belief in a lack of gods.

            We walk together as far as the school grounds, before splitting and going our separate ways. I was heading to my group of fellow rebels, and he, probably to class. I’ve decided that this year is going to be interesting. Very interesting.