Chapter 10: Psychological Advantage

I woke up sometime in the evening, but the room was still hot and muggy. I refused to open my eyes. My shoulder hurt from where I’d been laying on it. A bit of drool had been migrating south down the line of my chin. I wiped it away unceremoniously, too asleep to be self-conscious. On the bright side, the headache was nowhere to be felt. I exhaled deeply and thought about going back to dozing but almost exactly at that moment a sound made me wake up. I twisted my neck around to see Kyle walk in. Something about it made me feel anticlimactic, like I’d just been denied an important moment. That is, until I saw what he was doing.

He was elsewhere else mentally, concentrating totally on his shirt, which was held out in front of him like a basket to help carry a whole bunch of… something. I craned my neck to see what his payload was. They looked like cans. Sitting down on his bunk, he let the pack-an-a-half (I caught sight of the name Bud on the side of one) roll onto the mattress. He brought a hand to his face to scratch his chin, and it might have been then that he saw me watching him.

“Oh,” he said, startled. “Hi. How are you feeling?” His voice was different somehow, more mellow. Kind of dark and gravelly. I couldn’t connect it to the obnoxious stoned-jock-turned-class-clown voice I was used to from him when he was in class. He didn’t try to cover up the beer.

“Okay, I guess.” I pushed myself up onto my elbows. “What time is it?”

“Half-past eight.” Although I wasn’t meeting it, he looked me in the eye, challenging me to say something.

I looked around at the window. “Why’s it light out?” I said stupidly, but feeling a sense of foreboding.

“It isn’t dark out yet, and there’s a street lamp outside the window.”

“Oh.” Maybe not as awake as I thought. “Where’d everyone go?”

“Well, the concert got out at eight, so I’m just going to go out on a limb here and say that Terry and Denbrock went out for ice-cream.” He smiled, a little condescendingly I thought.

“Oh.” I rubbed my eyes. Wow, something was really different about him. And shit I’d missed the concert. “How was the concert? Boring?”

He shrugged. “I left half-way through. Riley was wondering where you’d gone.” I glared at him. There was a smirk on his face, dammit.

I made myself breath again. “And the concert’s already over.”

“Yep.” Definitely a smirk. He even chuckled. The bastard. Turning back to the cans of Bud, he rolled off the bed and began nimbly storing them into a small backpack, leaving four cans out. “Boy,” Kyle said with a low whistle, “Riley looked ready to kill. Wonder why?” He had the nerve to look bewildered, although I was almost positive by the way he was leading the conversation along that he had a pretty good clue as to why.

I scowled. “You’re lucky I’m half asleep or I’d jump off here and—”

“And what? Hit me over the head with one of your sticks?” He shook his head. “Please. You should consider having more respect for people with instruments bigger than yours, Samuel.”

“Ever heard the saying size doesn’t matter?”

“Ever notice how it’s always guys with small dicks that say that?” He made a face that mock-mirrored my surprise. “Yeah. And it does matter when you’re contemplating what instrument hurts more when you get hit over the head with it.” He held out his hands, weighing two invisible things. “Drumsticks. Saxophone. Hmm. So why is Riley gonna kill you?”

“I never said—”

“Just answer.”

I blinked a few times. “He thinks I’m skipping everything on purpose.”

“Well. He’ll kill you on Monday, then, won’t he,” Kyle said. “We get Sundays and Saturdays off, right? And he’s chaperoning the dance tomorrow, so I take it you aren’t going to that…” He waved me away. “I’m just kidding. Tell him you were sick. I’m sure he would have rather had you here resting than on-stage puking all over the low brass. Why’d you skip, again?”

I winced. There was that S-word, again. “Had a headache.”

“That’d better have been one hell of a headache.” Kyle raised an eyebrow. He’d gotten out a larger container and was pouring the four cans he’d left out into it. “Because of Miss Katharine, wasn’t it? Riley still probably won’t be too mad. Maybe.” He had his back turned but looked over his shoulder at me, here. “Why would Riley think you’re skipping on purpose? He’s usually pretty lenient about that sort of thing.” His tone was gentle enough to make it clear that any argument that might have been was over and done and not to be brought up again, which made me just the teensiest bit angry. For the sake of not having to get up and punch his face in I went along with it.

Plus, now it was fairly obvious he was leading me along, and I wanted to know where he was going.

“I was stuck in an elevator all day,” I said, putting my hand over my eyes. Just don’t ask about it. He didn’t. In fact, the topic appeared to bore him.

Finished pouring, Kyle stood up and cleared his throat. “Speaking of which…” he said, handing me the container, “I’ve been wondering how to get around to this and I’ve decided to just go with it.”

“With what?” I stared at the at least four cans’ worth of alcohol. “Is this for me? I’m not much of a beer buff.”

“Oh, go ahead, spoil yourself,” Kyle said, and sighed. “Daniel stopped by earlier when you were sleeping. He came in and we talked a bit.”

That got my attention, but I waited a few seconds, taking a chug of beer as cover. I’d never really had beer before, and wasn’t expecting the taste. I had to force myself to swallow. And Daniel came by earlier? Something about that made me feel queasy. “Wait,” I said. “What do you mean, speaking of which? What did you guys talk about?”

Kyle froze. “Nothing,” he said. “Um. Nothing? Look, I’m not telling, so you might as well just forget about it.”

“Alright.” I attempted to say it with tact. “Was it because of something Katie did? He said something about Katie. When he was here. Outside. In the hall.”

He gave me a curious look. “Well, I wasn’t there, but I heard that they talked. Daniel and Katie. They talked. When they were together. Outside. By the music building.”

“Okay, smartass…”

“Better a smartass than a dumb one,” he replied coolly. I glared but couldn’t stop myself from asking, “What did they talk about… exactly?”

“He didn’t say what… exactly,” Kyle answered, and it occurred to me he would make a great attorney, if not a great professional criminal sociopath. He ambled back to his bunk and, reaching into the backpack, pulled out a can for himself.

“Well, was it really loud and public?” I said.

“Define loud and public.”

“Kyle,” I warned.

“I don’t have a clue, honest truth,” said Kyle. He stretched his legs out front of him. “I wasn’t there and he wouldn’t tell me. I thought it was because she’s spreading rumors about you, so my hypothesis was that you did something to royally tick her off that might— in some way— have something to do with him.” He smiled and I added ‘Eccentric’ to his growing list of adjectives, along with ‘Dangerous’.

“Really, Doctor?” I said, mimicking Katie’s voice. “Tell me more.”

He smirked. “It was just a thought. On the other hand, she is an ex and an evil person in general, so that probably warrants her telling everyone you’re homosexual as a, what’s the phrase, matter of course—”

It might have, in hindsight, have been better if he had been more animated about it, like it was a joke between old chums. But the way Kyle said it was so businesslike. It might have helped if he hadn’t looked like he was enjoying it so goddamned much. And it also sounded like he was confirming it, like it might have been gossip because of Katie, but he believed it. ‘Dangerous’ indeed.

I nodded, although from where he was he probably couldn’t have seen. “Really?” I said again. “Everyone?” Gingerly, I got down from the bunk and started picking through my clothes.

“Yes. Maybe. More or less. But look, you can’t give up hope because Katie said it. Katie, of all people. I can’t believe you would take her seriously.”

“But I didn’t—” I said weakly.

“She’s a bitter, bitter woman, Samuel,” said Kyle. “She is a woman scorned. She is a first chair flute player scorned. Hell hath no fury, et cetera. Of course she is going to say you’re gay. When they’re that insecure it’s, like, their first defense. Just let it go. Can’t take it back now and, honestly, she almost did you a favor when you think about it. Now you don’t have to worry about… you know…” he wrapped his arms around himself and would have breached over into sympathetic had it not been for the sarcastic, condescending haze floating over every word, “…holding it inside.”

Kyle set his beer down and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. He walked over and seemed to think of something as he was digging around in his duffle bag, right next to me. “Do you know why Daniel wanted to talk to you? Sorry, have I already said that?”

“I don’t have a clue why he’d want to talk to me,” I answered lightly and took another swig from the container, sloshing it around in my mouth. The taste still made me shudder, but no way was I going to admit it. “Was that all beer you put in here?”

“Could be.” Kyle’s eyes roamed the room in a thoughtful way. He nodded to one of the empty cans. “What did it say on the labels?”

I rolled my eyes and wondered why I’d asked. “Bud,” I mumbled.

Kyle sighed. “Then, yes, it would appear to be beer, then, wouldn’t it?” He flashed a Gee, aren’t you dumb? smile and went back to searching his bag.

“What are you doing with beer?” I said. “That can’t be allowed, can it?”

“But you should still drink it. It loosens you up, trust me, and that’s just what you need if you’ve got Katie after your blood.” Kyle motioned approvingly at me. “Go on, drink it.”

I did as I was told, sitting back on my heels and enjoying the break from bloodhounding out wearable jeans. There was a pause, and Kyle furrowed his brow at me. “Samuel?”

“Kyle?” I said, irritated at his short, modern-sounding name. It needed to be more grating. Like Edmund. Gerald. Sheldon.

“Ever think about guys?”

I coughed. Had he been waiting for me to take a drink just so he could see me choke? “What?” I said.

“Did I stutter?”

I looked up to see him leaning over his bag, a few inches away from my face. Was this a joke? Should I laugh? His tranquility was sinister as hell. “Uh,” I said carefully. “What’s the situation?”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed and his lips moved over to one side thoughtfully. “Wow. I guess you are a little slow,” he said. “Or maybe just insecure. I haven’t decided yet. You don’t seem stupid but you keep acting like it. I’m sorry, but that’s just not attractive, Samuel.”

Guh. I frowned at him as he cleared his throat. “So. Guys. Ahem. Ever wondered how it might be different than with a girl?”

“Besides the obvious?” I asked, mentally quivering with glee at being able to tack a point up for moi. Take that, bastard.

Yes, I know. It’s sad, but cut me some slack.

That must have been about Kyle’s train of thought. “Well, aren’t you the little comedian,” he said stiffly.

I shook my head, as if from modesty. “No, you have a strange sense of humor,” I said. I stood up to yank my jeans on. And ignored the way he made a show of watching every movement. I don’t know how he did it, but he pulled it off just sitting there.

He held his hands out, palms up, while I was zipping. “What can I say? I’m a goalie. There are only so many times you can get hit with a soccer ball before things start getting jostled out of place.”

I flinched at jostled and reached for the beer container. Gosh, I was thirsty. Even if the taste was horrible, I kept drinking the beer. I couldn’t distinctly remember having anything to drink since the elevator… Maybe that was part of it. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“That’s not the point,” said Kyle. “The point is that you’re a pain to be around.”

“Oh, is it? Well, excuse me,” I said. “I am kind of mean to him, but he’s Daniel.” The name felt strange in my mouth, and it occurred to me just how little I actually said it. Twice, maybe?

Kyle glanced to the side, smug as can be. No doubt mentally tacking up yet another point for himself. “Who said we were talking about Daniel?” he said.

“Look, is that what everyone thinks?” Deep breaths, Sam. He’s being irritating on purpose. “He follows me around. Did I ask for that? I don’t think so. I didn’t ask for that. No sir.” Why was I being so open? The beer? No, I hadn’t even had that much.

Kyle sat back on his heels and snorted. “Well jeez, not everyone. I was kind of exaggerating, there, but yeah. Pretty much. Especially Katie, but everyone knows her base camp’s on the far side of psychotic.”

I gulped down some more beer, probably not a great idea, considering. “ Camp Psycho. Right.” I shook myself all over and felt a little old spunk come rolling back. “Go there, often?”

“Honey, I’m there. All done?”

I handed back the now-empty container. “Yeah. Wow, that was kind of a lot of beer. Thanks, I guess.”

“Any time.” Kyle flung it behind him without looking, and it landed miraculously on his bottom bunk. He stood up and grasped my hand. We were about the same height. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Uh…a little…”

“Perfect. Now, you didn’t really answer my question, did you?”

“Which one?” I said and tried to pull my hand away, bizarrely calm. There was a tingling sensation in my stomach as he used the hand to pull us together.

“Guys,” Kyle said, as way of preamble. “What’s it like to kiss a guy. Haven’t you ever wondered?” He pursed his lips and gave me goose bumps running one of his hands over my chest and slipping it around the back of my neck. “And let’s be honest with each other, shall we?”

Oh.

Shit.

“No,” I said (lied, if for no other reason than what the fuck else could I have possibly been thinking at that moment, dammit?), but it took the effort of wading through tar.

“You aren’t even… remotely curious?” Kyle’d gotten rid of the wide-eyed patronizing psycho look as easily as flinging off a mask and now he was all charm. “Now why don’t I believe that?”

I’d never again have to wonder why sheep don’t run when the coyote is standing right there in front of them, setting out the dinner plates— it’s just like that. I didn’t move when he came close to my face, staring mostly at my lips but glancing up now and again. I couldn’t move; god, I was hypnotized.

“You’re lying,” he said at last, almost into my mouth. “I can tell. I’m good at it.” A hand glided through my hair and I closed my eyes for a moment so he wouldn’t see them go cross.

“Ri-ight…” I said slowly, slamming them open when I realized what I’d done, albeit unintentionally. Closing them was almost like admitting defeat. And I happen to be of the mind that it’s not over till it’s over, damn it.

Kyle stepped forward, backing me up into the wall and sealing most of our upper-bodies together. “But you do think about it, don’t you?” he said. “Or maybe you would, but you don’t let yourself. You won’t even accept that there might be a chance that you’re thinking about it, not even a possibility, so after awhile you don’t notice it… Yeah, that hit a nerve, didn’t it, Sam? Ringing any bells?”

“No.” I swallowed and Kyle ran a finger over the studs in my ear, making it suddenly difficult to speak. “No. Prove it,” I said, ashamed at how breathless it came out. “You can’t. Not that there’s anything to prove. In fact, why don’t you just… hey, did you just call me Sam?”

Hands on either side of my face turned my head straight, and he used his thumbs to close my jaw, cutting me off. “Don’t change the subject,” Kyle said sternly, but as though he thought the sorry attempt endearing; I was terrified for a moment that he would kiss me. “You want proof? This proves me right, Samuel. This, right here. If you weren’t interested, you’d have been out the door a long time ago, drunk or not. Now, be honest. You can be honest with me. I’m not gonna tell your parents or you ex or anything. Not that she needs telling,” he added in a wicked tone and matching wicked grin.

I stared. “Would you shut up?”

“No, nonononono. Come on. You’re so close.”

“What the hell do you want?” I yelled, as much as a person can when their teeth are clamped together.

“Acknowledgment,” Kyle spat back at me, suddenly thunderous. “Of yourself. I want you to say it, and mean it. I’m not slow like Katie and I’m not subtle like Daniel and I find it incredibly difficult to believe you’re oblivious that sometimes guys check you out. I also find it incredibly difficult to believe sometimes you don’t check out guys.” He took a breath. “Well?”

“Well, believe it.” I hoped I was conveying a multitude of supremely violent things to him in the way I was glaring. “It’s possible.”

“Possible,” said Kyle solemnly, indulging me by going along with this little fantasy, “if you’re straight, and the closest you’re ever going to get to that is Closeted, I can almost guarantee. I really can’t see you going in for the whole psychotherapy thing.”

There was a pause. Kyle seemed very comfortable, as though he were enjoying a cup of coffee instead of holding me against the wall.

“Could be bi,” I mumbled grudgingly.

“I doubt it, sweetheart, but I suppose I’ll take that as a confession. I can see you’re thinking about it, and that’s what counts.” He tapped the side of my nose.

“Oh, fuck you,” I said when he let go of my face. Not that resting them on my shoulders was much better. “Maim that ego a bit, wouldja?”

“It’s been nice talking with you, too, Samuel,” he said, glaring sportsmanlike back.

“Interrogating me, you mean.” I fantasized him saying Samuel one too many times and me just snapping. “This must be what it was like at Salem,” I said. “‘Are you a witch?’ ‘No.’ ‘When did you become a witch?’ ‘I’m not a witch.’ ‘Look, if you could just say you’re a witch, we could burn you and get it over with without having to stick this red-hot poker up your— ’”

Kyle bowed his head and laughed— a pretty, dark-chocolaty laugh and I shocked my drunken self by thinking of it as such. “Don’t be bitter, Samuel,” he said, raising his head. “It’s unseemly. Daniel’s gay, by the way. Thought I’d mention that, in case you hadn’t caught it.” I flinched when he put his hand lightly over my mouth and kissed the back of it. Then he gave me a good businesslike pat on the cheek. It bordered on a slap, but there was finality to it.

He stepped away and shook his head, the last of his natural jadedness tripping back into place. “And Daniel’s the one that should be doing this shit,” he added with a roll of his eyes.

I slipped out when his back was turned to saunter back to his bunk. “The things I do for people,” he muttered before the door closed.

I got out and ran toward the music building, sober enough to wonder why the dorm supervisor hadn’t seen me. With all odds against it, I saw Riley on the way, but he didn’t get the urge to suddenly take a stroll in my direction when I was walking around the building, or follow up whatever other strange fancies strike music teachers at nine o’clock at night. I honestly don’t know, really I don’t. Hopefully it never happens to me. Becoming a music teacher, that is.

I kept away from the streetlamps as much as possible, just in case one of those fancies was to take a walk through the park. Even though it wasn’t cold, I stumbled along with my hands wrapped around my arms. The alcohol was making things fuzzy, not so much as in what I could see, but in other ways. Maybe that was why Kyle’d ordered the alcohol like he did. Well, of course it was. The thought made me laugh. Then my mind hitched on Kyle and I paused.

What. The. Fuck? He’d come up on me like a shark attack, so sudden and then it was over. Did he like me or something? But then he said something about Daniel, like it was just business. He was doing it for Daniel? What for? What was the point?

I stalked towards the park where we usually went outside to have lunch. The older brick buildings, gnarled trees, fresh-cut grass, killer hiding in the bushes with a knife… I shivered and put a leash on my imagination, even though I was likely ten times scarier in the low light than some wannabe criminal. However, it seemed mostly empty. I found a nearby park bench and sat down.

I had a serious feeling Kyle had been, well, serious, but whenever I thought of the scene in the room a few minutes ago, I started giggling. It was just so weird. So surreal.

Okay, so maybe I had looked, if you could even call it that, at the other guys in the locker room. Maybe once. Okay, maybe more than once, but that was in junior high. Just a curious-about-other-peoples’-bodies phase. And maybe I’m still a little curious, but that’s natural without being homosexual, isn’t it? And I’m not a cat, so it’s not like curiosity ever killed me, just like masturbating never caused kittens to start keeling over, or whatever. The point is that that phase passed. Well, mostly, but everyone gets that. Didn’t they?

Ugh.

Anyhow, Kyle seemed like the kind of person who would do stuff like that for kicks, even though I hadn’t given him much thought before now. He was just another band camp roommate. And what was with bringing up Daniel so much? Weird, I thought, and held back a chuckle—and what was with that? The laughing… that had to be the beer, or else I was going insane. Or I’d just had a really long, bizarre week.

But, even if it had been a joke… No, I told myself firmly, and put my head in my hands. It wasn’t nice at all. There was no anything. He was messing with you. On top of Katie getting it into her head, I would never make it through this if I started getting it into my head. I could just imagine Kyle hearing it from Katie and deciding to make a joke about it. Ha, ha, ha. Not that it changed the fact at all that I didn’t like it when a guy was that close and oh god this would be so much easier to deal with if I wasn’t drunk—

“Sam?”

I looked up. It was Daniel.

I fought the urge to put my head back in my hands. The end result was something like a double take. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“How do you do that,” I said, in the mood for italics. “Have you put some kind of tracking device on me?”

“I don’t think so.” It was unreal for him to be here. I hardly believed it; this had to be some kind of trip. I mean, how could he know where I was? “Can I sit down?” he said.

“No,” I said, almost shouting. “Let’s walk. I need to be moving.” Graceful me, I stripped over my own feet getting up. Luckily, it was in Daniel’s general direction, and he caught my arm before I hit the sidewalk. I started laughing. “Sorry,” I said, still clutching his arm. I held onto it for dear life as we started walking. “Kyle gave me beer.”

Daniel’s facial expression sobered me up for a moment. “How much?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I was really thirsty. He put it in one big thing.” We crossed a street away from the arts building and into an even more park-y part of the campus. I held on tighter and he gave my arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Did you watch him?” said Daniel.

“Sort of. Why, do you think he put something else in it?”

“Maybe.”

“Ah, damn.” I dug my fingers into his shirt sleeve crossing a sleepy intersection. “Why would he do that? You don’t think it’s lethal, do you?”

“I doubt it.” Daniel relaxed some. “Kyle moves in mysterious ways sometimes. So what happened to you?” he said as I began to walk more on my own. “You disappeared. I had to fight off Katie by myself.” There was an atmosphere of undemanding happiness around him that was, actually, quite nice to be around, especially in my… um… state. It registered on a subconscious level that this was the rock in my storm, my seeing eye dog. But it felt wrong.

“I had a headache,” I said, vaguely aware that there had been a question somewhere in there. I let go of his arm and pulled away. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

He made a dash for my arm and pulled me back, probably thinking I was about to fall down again. “Do what? What do you mean?”

I didn’t want to go into that awkward conversation. “It’s, you know.” I waved my hands around, trying to sweep the word into range, like people that have it on the tip of their tongues do. “I’m not nice. You shouldn’t be… doing all this for me.”

“That’s okay,” he said, pulling me up. “I understand, it’s kind of weird—”

“Yes,” I said. I covered my mouth with my hand, but it couldn’t stop that initial giggle. “Yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking. Weird. This is so weird. We spent the day in an elevator…” We had to stop walking I was laughing so hard. I started to get that stitch in the side when you can’t breathe and bent over, my hands on my knees.

“Come on,” said Daniel gently, “let’s go,” and led us onto the grass, under a tree. It could have been the same one we sat under when I returned his coat to him, but then again all trees look alike to me. It was probably a completely different part of the campus. We sat down and I put my head between my knees. Daniel rubbed my back until I calmed down.

When it passed, I sat up with my face in my hands. “’M Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “Oh, man. That was embarrassing.”

“That’s okay,” he said, and there was that upsetting feeling of déjà vu. He let his hand rest on my back and sort of leaned in for a half-hug, and it felt so natural for a moment I almost forgot about the Weird. The laughing mania, not being able to manage myself, even for a second, had scared me. I needed someone there. At that point I would have even taken Katie (but not Kyle, not quite that desperate), just to have a little comfort. And I liked the feeling I got when he rested his head on my shoulder, kind of like a fluttering in my stomach… I frowned. Just to test it, I closed my eyes and leaned back into him; it got stronger with a sudden jolt.

I pulled away and Daniel’s arm slipped off. “What’s wrong?” he said, but even stronger was Kyle’s voice: “Daniel’s gay, by the way.” Even in my head he sounded like a bothersome patronizing swine, but it’s a nice change to hear someone else’s voice in your head every once in a while.

“I hope you know this is all your fault.” Just shake it off, Sam, shake it off.

“What’s my fault?”

I turned my body away from him, pulling my knees up and crossing my arms over them. “I don’t know,” I said, then scoffed. “This is impossible. This morning I was mad at you. I was so mad at you. I don’t even remember why.”

Daniel laughed. “I don’t, either,” he said, gripping my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I cracked my neck around—actually cracked, I felt the vertebrae clanking into place as I turned— to stare at his hand. Slowly, on auto-pilot, I reached out and took hold of his wrist, catching him off balance.

He landed on his hand and knees. “Sam?” he whispered. “I know you’re kind of inebriated right now, but what are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Let’s find out.”

“Is it going to hurt?”

“I just want to see something.”

I pulled his arm into my lap and stared intently at his hand, touching the palm, rolling out the fingers. I brushed thumb over every line, like reading Braille, and paid attention to the bones on the backside and the knuckles in the fingers. I used my pointer finger to bend his fingers over so I could see his nails. It was fascinating.

I woke up to Daniel leaning over, watching from a deep a daze as I had been.

“Well?” Daniel said.

“Well, that settles it,” I said. “Kyle definitely put something in the beer. That was a little too amazing for just alcohol. Sorry, want your hand back? Here. Sorry.”

“That’s… okay,” he said, sitting back down next to me.

“Do you ever say anything else besides ‘That’s okay’?”

Daniel cleared his throat. “That was actually kind of weird.”

I sighed. “Yep.” Then, out of the blue: “I don’t want to go back to the room.”

He nodded slowly. “Kyle?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered, but thankful he could figure out that much, at least. I lurched forward to get up but I felt a hand grab my wrist pull me back down to earth. “What’s the big deal?”

“Apologies,” Daniel said, “but you’re not safe walking around all by your lonesome.”

“Sure I am,” I said. “It wasn’t that much beer, for crying out loud.”

“Have you even had anything to eat today?”

“Um… no.”

He smiled. “Just for kicks and giggles, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Shut up, I’m not that drunk,” I said. “Jeez. Do you know we spent the first half the day in an elevator?” I mumbled in a monotone. It seemed like so long ago. “And then…”

My mind went blank for a second. I stared out over the lawn, silent. “And then?” Daniel prompted.

I made a lazy attempt at a grin. “And then we barely escaped with our lives from Riley.” I was delighted to find the thought of Riley wasn’t scary anymore. “It’s been like some kind of Indiana Jones movie, hasn’t it?” I shrugged, hazily aware I was spewing incoherent nonsense. “The Elevator of Doom. We even have our own little Katie Nazi…”

Without any sort of prelude, he put his hand on my chest and pushed me onto my back on the grass. I watched him, and then looked up at the branches of the tree, rested my hands over my stomach. My fingers were cold. The grass crinkled as I glanced at him lying next to me on his back. He caught me glancing. “Comfy?”

I moved my head in a vague way, thinking: what’s it like to kiss a guy? Probably better than kissing Katie, because guys wouldn’t have toxic perfume and lip gloss. I blushed when I realized what I was thinking—it was fresh and interesting at first, but get out of my head, Kyle. Get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, don’t go there, not when you can barely walk on your own, people experiment, but this really, really is not the time.

“What’re you thinking about?” he said with a yawn, but it couldn’t completely hide the traces of nervousness, which in turn made me nervous.

I struggled to sit up. “I’m thinking, why am I thinking all this now? Why couldn’t all this happen six years ago when you weren’t here and I wasn’t drunk?” I glared lackadaisically at him, as though it was his fault. But damn it, it was his fault!

He pulled me back down. “What do you mean?”

“Can you read minds?” I said in the same flat-serious tone up into the tree’s branches.

He laughed. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Was that what you were thinking about?” he said, propping himself up on his elbows and leaning in my direction. “You looked so upset there, for a second. It’s always interesting to find out what people think about when they’re under the influence.”

Another sudden shiver of a sensation tickled at my stomach and stopped me from answering. I exhaled slowly, afraid of damaging myself—I all of a sudden felt delicate, breakable.

I dropped one of my hands to the side and picked at the grass and watched Daniel bend over me. I could still feel the ghost feeling of his hand where he’d pressed me back onto the lawn. I brought myself up onto my forearm.

“I can’t think,” I said, feeling dizzy as I looked up at him. “And it feels great.” My hand still resting on my stomach clenched into a loose fist, trying to snatch the glass butterflies out. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, then opened them all the way and reminded myself to breath. “Maybe you could help,” I said, angling my chin upwards, towards him.

He smiled, leaning closer. “Maybe I could help.”

“Hey, guys!” A shadow fell over us. “Boy howdy, whatcha doing?”

I sat up so fast I almost knocked my head against Daniel’s. The world was a madhouse for a good three seconds until it stopped spinning. I looked over. My lip curled when I saw it was Kyle standing over us with his hands on his hips. He, in turn, was looking solely down at me, and I imagine it’d been me he was aiming the question at. Damn him. He had to be one of those jerks with a sixth sense that told them when they’re most unwanted.

Despite the fact I hadn’t paid any attention to him until tonight, that time with Kyle and me was close approaching 24/7.

Stony-faced, Daniel got as close to a human being snarling as I’ve ever heard. “Just now a split second ago?” he said. “Really want to know? Here’s a hint, it was fine without you.”

Kyle looked away. “Never mind, sorry I asked,” he said with an eye roll accompaniment, and started talking what sounded like gibberish to me: “But listen, that tuba player that goes to school here that did that workshop yesterday came up and invited some of us to this thing they’re having at his friend’s house. It’ll be mostly band people and he said he wanted you to come.” Kyle turned an eye to me. “I guess you can tag along, if you want. Wanna sit inna stroller, Sammy?”

“Shut up,” I muttered and staggered to my feet on my own, miracle of miracles. The glass feeling shattered off, leaving an ominous aftertaste that it might be back. In the part of me still thinking, I wondered how I was ever going to make it anywhere, but Daniel got up and slipped his arm through mine again before I could make an idiot of myself. I’m pretty sure I could have done it by myself, but really, why risk it when Daniel was right there?

We staggered along with Kyle together.

As we headed out of the park towards a neighborhood, a part of me clicked. Kyle must die. And, why wait? I stretched my neck towards Kyle’s side and took a deep breath that was loud enough to fill in for an ahem.

“Yes, Samuel?” he said, not bothering to look over. “Something on your mind?”

Should have done something cruel and sadistic to him just for that. And not in a kinky way. “You know,” I said, “I don’t like it when you call me that.”

“It’s good that you’re more in touch with your feelings than the last time we talked,” he said, grinning, “but I don’t care. I’m going to call you Samuel, Samuel.”

“Kyle,” Daniel barked.

“What?” Kyle shrugged. “It’s more sophisticated than ‘Sam’ and doesn’t immediately offer up the nickname ‘Sammy.’ I don’t know why he doesn’t like it.”

“I’m still here,” I said through clenched jaw. He ignored me.

It was easy to tell which house it was; the lights were on in almost every window when we got there. A gust of sounds came out of the door when it opened: dance music, shouts, laughter, and oh my god was that an accordion? Normally, you would have had to pay me to go inside that house. A bunch of rowdy, sexed-up, drunken band folks with at least one accordion among them. No. Thanks. Not that I have anything against accordions, mind you.

All the same, I couldn’t exactly stay out on my own, so I went along with Daniel, who was following Kyle, into the house.

Half-consciously, I rolled my shoulders back and stood up taller, puffing my chest out fractionally, fighting for every inch I could to not look small, although using Daniel for support rather crippled the effect. Neither Naturally Taller Than Thou Daniel nor It Doesn’t Matter How Tall You Are I’m Still Looking Down On You Kyle felt the need, of course.

My senses took a pounding just walking though the rooms. A few times I had to close my eyes and just hope Daniel wasn’t getting lost, but I couldn’t do anything about my ears, or my nose. Every nook and cranny was filled with moving bodies. In every room, in the halls, people everywhere, mostly engaging in activities involving both beer and music. Like musical beer pong. It struck me that smoke should have hung in the air like smog and people should have been wearing togas. But they weren’t. It was smoke-free and they were dressed normally, if they were dressed at all. Being in various stages of undress seemed to be the norm, but I couldn’t imagine where everyone’s pants and shirts were going. It wasn’t like there were mounds of clothing anywhere.

Where the hell did they get all the beer? I wondered, relieved when I saw a band camper I recognized flit in and out of sight. It was a numbing thought that most of these people were working through their music degree, and I’m not sure I believed it, but still— don’t anyone ever tell you musicians are too serious for their own good. (Oh, and the house smelled like beer, sex, cork grease, and fresh laundry. One of life’s mysteries, I guess. I mean, what the hell were they doing with cork grease to get the house to actually smell like it?)

I wouldn’t have been surprised if Kyle said he’d grown up in the house he looked so at home. Daniel looked curious. I observed all this and, mimicking the coolness (failed miserably, but it’s the thought that counts), trailed in after them into a den room where most of the people were crowded around the television, watching a video game in progress.

We went past a cooler full of ice. Kyle reached in and grabbed a can. I was thirsty as anything, but knew it would be pushing my luck so I passed by without a beer. I looked at Daniel to see what he’d do. He gave me smile and a shrug before reaching in along with Kyle.

I nudged him, which was more just leaning into him. “Hey,” I said, “you’re the designated driver.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” He winked. “I have precious cargo.”

A guy I assumed was the tuba player—nursing a beer, and wearing a huge, obnoxious green jersey (number 69, clever boy, although I couldn’t imagine him doing anything athletic)— rolled through the room. He caught sight of us and oozed in our general direction. “Hey guys,” he said in a loud, booming voice. “Enjoying yourselves?”

It was directed mostly to Kyle, but we all nodded. Tuba Player reached around and gave Daniel a thorough handshake, chatted about something or other about camp. I quit fighting to hear the words and turned my head to see how the video game was going when the whole throng of them started moaning and cheering all at once.

I jumped when I felt Tuba’s Michael Jordan-sized hand clamp down on my shoulder. I’ll never know, even if I can guess, but for some reason—some fucking reason—Tuba chose to zero in on me. Caught off-guard, I backed into Daniel on instinct and Tuba laughed, causing me to blush. I recovered in a drunken flash and tried to appear hazardous.

“Whoa, getting’ your punk face on?” he said and I glared, but in a friendly way, since he was the host (or his friend was, whatever).

“Just for you,” I said. Tuba glanced at Kyle, who grinned as if to say, See? and I felt like an idiot for playing into it, whatever it was. I noticed Tuba laughed Santa-style, with stomach jiggling ho-ho-ho’s, although they were more like hee-hee-hee’s.

Giving me a frat-friendly pat on the back, Tuba closed in on my other side. I was squished between Daniel and a lard tub mountain dressed in a jersey. He made a show of looking at Daniel’s arm hooked around my waist and raised an eyebrow. “Friends?” he said and grinned like it was all good. I looked at him pleadingly.

“God, you can’t be serious,” I said, not sure if I was actually talking to Him or Tuba.

“Well, if you need help walkin’…” Hooking one of his own arms around my waist, Tuba wrenched us towards the door, which came down to getting me out the door when Daniel wouldn’t fit through the doorway with us. I looked over my shoulder to see Kyle hold Daniel back, talking to him as Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. So much for precious cargo.

When Tuba leaned in to say something, I almost passed out from his bad breath. “So what did you say your name was, again?”

I cringed. “Where we going?”

He chortled. “Kitchen.” When he laughed, he jiggled and seeing as he was holding me pretty gosh darn close, I actually felt it. I went rigid and my eyes crossed and my toes and fingers curled and I was sure for a moment I was going to hurl. It was so gross. After I stopped shuddering, I attempted to try and pry his hand off without him noticing only to find there was something sticky on his fingers. I stopped that endeavor short.

The kitchen wasn’t impressive, but almost bare of people compared to the rest of the house, thus, quiet. A few girls sat on the counter eating bread. Tuba abandoned me in the middle of the floor to dig around in the fridge. I backed away, running into the island bar in the middle of the room, wondering how this night had managed to turn into one of those nightmarish LSD trips I’d heard about, but instead of bugs crawling all over me it was this low brass player. In hindsight, I think I may have preferred the bugs.

He turned around with two shot glasses full of some golden liquid in his hands. I shook my head. “No thanks.”

“Ah, come on. You gotta loosen up.” Sigh. Brass players. Need I go on? I mean, need I, really, go on?

“That’s what Kyle said,” I said as savagely as possible. It was my last hope to appear as annoying and horrible as possible, so he’d lose interest and find someone else to bother. Psychological advantage, or something. I was feeling sick so it was easy to pull off. Where had my quiet moment with Daniel gone? I suddenly wished I was back there again, instead of here in this kitchen.

Tuba held up one of the glasses under my nose and waved it at me. “Kyle knows his stuff,” he said. “You should listen to him.”

“When hell freezes over,” I said. I pulled myself into one of the bar’s high seats and rested my forehead on the table. Tuba walked around to the other side and set my shot glass within reach of my hand. “I don’t want it,” I said. “Back off. I’m waiting for my designated driver.”

“Alcohol virgin?” he said with a pout.

“Hell no,” I scoffed. But something about all that must have given him the impression I was lying, and that in turn made it reasonable for him to bring the shot to my face and basically make me chug it.

All in good fun, I’m sure, but I had to drink it or drown. It burned my throat, and I almost couldn’t get it down. My throat closed. The guy slapped me on the back again, this time to help get the whiskey out of my lungs. I kept coughing and he set the shot on the counter.

“Are you insane?” I said, voice weak. I pushed myself away from the bar and got down. “There are better ways of getting someone to drink.”

He grinned with teeth. “Mouth to mouth?”

I stared. “Bye,” I said and left. “If you value your life, don’t follow me.”

Outside the kitchen, I moved along the walls as much as possible. Most of the doors were closed, and I couldn’t remember which way to the den. Kyle and Daniel probably weren’t even there anymore. The people in the hall were friendly, though— one girl that I had the misfortune of brushing up against whirled around and shoved her tongue into my mouth there on the spot. A little shaken, I moved on, stumbling into the den almost by accident.

Kyle and Daniel were still there. They’d moved into a corner of the room but hadn’t stopped talking; a little angrily it looked like. Kyle gave me a blank look when I joined the circle, forcing myself not to collapse on the floor. It only worked for a few seconds, and I ended up sitting down anyway.

Kyle looked down at me. “What are you think you’re doing?” he said, like I’d just interrupted a secret group meeting and hadn’t given the right password.

I was about to answer, but stopped—it must have been the smell… either that or the way the ground trembled, but instinct got the better of me and I looked around. I couldn’t actually see his face because his stomach was in the way, but the jersey gave it away. Yeah. He followed me.

“Hey, you ran off,” Tuba’s voice announced somewhere above me. I did a 90-degree on my ass and scooted away until my back hit something. Kyle’s legs, it turned out. Tuba laughed, and I sneered.

“You laugh like an effeminate Santa,” I said, but it didn’t come out as cutting as I’d hoped. Instead of demanding an apology, he handed me another shot glass.

I heard Daniel talking, all said way above me in some different world. It was almost like listening to television: “Are you serious? Sam, I don’t think you should…”

Then Kyle, “Whoa, easy there. He’s not your territory yet.” Asshole, I thought, and as though reading my mind he bucked his knee out, hitting me in the back, causing a mild expletive to slip out of my mouth. I sent my elbow flying back, hitting Kyle somewhere on the shin. The return muffled groan from him was all right by me any day.

Daniel was still talking. “Well, unlike some people I have a good sense of when it’s a good time to interrupt and when it’s not.”

“Wow, Danny, you’d think you were frustrated about something.” By the way it was escalating I was starting to be glad I was on the floor.

While they were talking, the room was getting darker and I blinked a few times to clear it away. The room was really hot, and I suddenly remembered how thirsty I had been and still was and took a few sips. And god I was tired.

Tuba reached out and helped Kyle step over me, and there’s no way his foot hit the back of my head by accident. “Come on,” said Tuba as they left, but not with his arm around Kyle’s waist, I noticed. “There’s this thing I’ve been meaning to show ya…”

To give you the gist… because I honestly couldn’t go on about this if I wanted to, because most of it’s a blur… One of the vivid things I remember is Tuba and Kyle leaving the room. Then I remember Daniel kneeling down and laying his hands on my shoulders to help me up. And I remember the headache creeping back, but most of all I remember being really, really thirsty.

But that, common sense leads me to believe, was where I went wrong to begin with.

A/N: Aaanndd… much love and many thanks to leboshi for beta-ing (bows) Being the beta, along with patiently trying to explain to me the difference between “to lie” and “to lay” and things like that which I can’t get for the life of me because I know absolutely nothing about grammar XD

Haha, sorry, this chapter was so weird. I hope you’ll continue reading and thank you all of you! Thank you so much for reviewing: VampireOfDeath113, ddz008, Hani, Sporkess, Limited Edition, BrokenDreamz-EmptySoulz, Starlite nightfall:MOO MOO, PlzNsertSN, Wolfwitch, Kiri Kitsune, kithaniella, Lady E., kristallrisse, Prisoner-11, jarf, Rylyn, Logical and serene megadeath, Blutiger Tod, Kitsune Luver, Jeoal, Marie, xwhoopsyoujustsatonmyheartx, yaoiphoenix, TheCrazyOneInTheCorner, Fire-of-Lies, Anya Maria Romero, Shadow 3013, magalina, Goldensong, Kaysin, v1rg1n1a, Evinus, and BreathingFlames!