fae’s notes: sorry that it’s not even a whole chapter, but this is the end of it... (it’s also completely un-revised... i apologize. (i know, i’ve been doing that a lot lately.))

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Chapter Eight

Riel

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The garage leads into a large basement room that someone has decorated with large amounts of multi-colored Christmas lights and a wide variety of band posters. Aside from the Christmas lights, the room is fairly is dim, but I can spot Kat at the far end of the room near several long tables piled with copious amounts of food, talking to Greg and another girl from our English class. Another wall seems to be designated for couples as a surprising number of people are shoved up against it in various and shameless states of dress and undress. Interestingly enough, the number of girl-girl and guy-guy couples seem to be about the same as guy-girls. The Doors song has finished, replaced by a fast-paced techno song, and I note that the source is a large stereo-system set up by a make-shift stage. There must be several hundred CD cases stacked next to it, as well as at least fifteen guitars, bases, and other assorted musical instruments, including a nice but slightly beat-up looking drum set and keyboard.

Gaby presses his face into the crook of my neck, nuzzling me lightly and procuring an instant response from the rest of my body. “Come on,” he says softly, lips just brushing my skin, “I’ll introduce you to everyone.” He kisses my neck affectionately. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to find out that there’s an “everyone,” since Gaby was the one who invited me to the party, and must have gotten his invitation from somewhere as well, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would have much of a group of friends.

Gaby escorts me in the direction of a tall blond, surrounded by a virtual entourage of people, primarily girls. He excuses himself from them when he sees Gaby coming. I try to hold back a scowl; this isn’t someone you need to introduce me to. Britain Lewis is arguably the most well-known guy in school, almost as well liked, appears to be successful in everything he’s tried since he moved here at the beginning of the year, and, worst of all, gay. Basically, he’s everything I’m not, apparently blissfully safe from whatever it is about me that says “look, I’m a fag, come beat me up.” On top of all this, he just grinds on my nerves the wrong way as a person.

Once we get in hearing range, Britain throws Gaby a dramatic look and clutches at his chest, one hand across his forehead in the picture of distress. “How could you do this to me?” he demands of Gaby, loud enough for most of the room to turn and stare at us. This does not make me like him any better. Neither does the overly dramatic swoon he goes into next, collapsing on the floor near our feet. A few laughs and some applause and people start to go back to what they were doing before. Gaby prods Brit with one foot.

“Get up; the way you’re slumped makes you look fat…” Britain jumps up and brushes himself off. He throws me a grin and takes my hand, kissing it lightly. If I was just the tiniest bit less mature, I might wipe my hand off on my pants in an attempt to get rid of any lingering trace of him. Instead, I give him no real response at all, which is probably worse.

“Brit, this is Riel. Riel, Brit.” Gaby sounds a little unsure, and I immediately feel guilty. Gaby follows his introduction with a quick, mumbled apology and drags me off to meet someone else. Guilty feeling is growing.

We say brief hellos to Mel and Baby, who both seem to be busy—Mel with hosting the party and Baby with threatening an unfortunate member of the male gender who made the mistake of hitting on her. I also get the “good man” joke explained to me—which earns a rather well deserved groan from Mel himself: his last name is Goodman.

“There’s Ethan.” Gaby nods across the room at a guy with bright red, spiked hair. “And Liz and Jersey hang out with us sometimes.” He points to one of the couples busy against the wall. “And Greg.” Greg and Kat are still standing back by the tables of food, but the other girl is gone and is it just me or are they standing rather close? Gaby cranes his neck around, apparently searching the crowd for someone else. After a minute, his face lights up and he grabs my hand, dragging me in the direction of the far corner. Letting go of me, Gaby throws himself at a scruffy-looking guy in what are probably the world’s rattiest-looking jeans. The guy gives me a serene smile, most of the rest of his face lost in a wild tangle of brown hair, and salutes me. He leans in close to me, and I assume that somewhere under the hair, his eyes are studying my face. After a while, he leans back again, the serene grin returning.

“You’re a special person; I can tell these things,” he announces finally. From anyone else, this would be a strange comment; Wreck, however, radiates an oddly soothing aura that at the same time gives you the impression that nothing would be strange for him to say. Gaby grins, letting go of him to hang off of me again.

“Wreck tells everyone that,” Gaby informs me, smiling nonetheless.

“Yeah, but, you two are like—über special,” the boy protests. “Wow, two uber special people together…” His expression is almost worshipful. I haven’t yet been able to think of an appropriate answer to any of the things he has said. Gaby shakes his head a little, but looks happy anyway.

“Ri, this is Wreck—Wreck, Ri.” Wreck reaches over and shakes my hand warmly. I don’t ask about the name. He starts to say something to Gaby, but he stops mid-sentence when someone catches his eye from across the room.

“Sorry, dudes, gotta see a man about a bludgeon…” Gaby laughs softly as Wreck disappears into the crowd.

“I think he just walks out of class when he sees Mel in the halls,” Gaby says, watching him go with a grin.