Escape - Zakuyoe

This story is completely fictional. Contains mm slash, so if it disturbs you, there's always the little 'x' on the top right hand corner of the webpage.

Chapter 1

I wasn't very much of the social type. Whenever my teachers would assign us into groups, I usually ended up being the odd one out, or having to work on my own. I sat alone in the lunc room on normal circumstances, and I usually spent after-school hours in my room listening to music. Summarizing my viewpoint upon socializing, I regarded it as completely pointless.

So it probably wasn't a surprise to see my reaction when I learned of the news that my mother's old friend from college was going to move in with us for a while. Naturally I refused to follow along with my mother's plan, regarding it as an extremely bad idea. Nevertheless she went along with her plan, and soon enough I found myself writing alongside my mother in our lounging room.

"Fix your hair." she pestered at me, supposedly fixing my black, medium lengthed hair. "I hope you remember what I want you to do."

"Watch my manners, be courteous to that one lady, and entertain her son," I spat out, similar to a robot repeating its orders in a monotone voice. "You've only told me like two million times." I particularly wasn't too keen on my final order, as I couldn't even maintain a healthy conversation; what more to entertain someone?

"Her name is Susan," snapped my mother, "But yes, I think you've got it right. Her son is just about your age too, so your task shouldn't be that cumbersome." It was quite evident that my mom was very clueless with what went on in my life. But before my mind could expound upon this detail, a doorbell chose to interrupt.

"Oh, that must be them!" my mother yelled, probably unaware of the stupidity of her statement, "Justin, get the door!" I unwillingly arose from my seat and approached the door with caution. My gameplan: Treat them as if they were detonated bombs.

Taking a deep breath, I grasped the doorknob and pulled open the door. Two people entered my vision field, one apparently more nervous than the other. The first, the older, not as shy one, had long blond hair, blue eyes, and a crapload of makeup. Her companion, who was clearly younger, also had blue eyes and blond hair, but was a boy, had just as many years as I did, and seemed a bit more introverted.

"Well hello there!" exclaimed the lady, "You must be Justin. I've heard so much about you, of course." She extended her hand at me pleasantly, but I merely eyed it with question, refusing to touch it.

"Oh Justin, where are your manners?" asked my mom, pushing me aside to greet her old colleague. "Oh Susan, how have you been?"

"I'm well thanks," said the lady in her annoyingly pleasant tone, "I'm sure I've told you about my son Charles, have I not?"

"Oh yes you have!" my mother replied. I noticed her frequent usage of the word 'oh,' and it was annoying the crap out of me. "My, my, he does seem so much more handsome in person! This would be my son Justin." She turned towards me.

"Sup?" he said to me, extending his hand. "I'm Charles."

"I know," I replied, taking his hand. I refused to look at him however, the primary reason being his eyes. I had this weak spot for blue eyes, see, and I couldn't look into them without blushing fervently. Sure, he was a guy, but regardless of that, he still possessed blue eyes.

"Allow me to show your room," exclaimed my mother, taking Susan's luggage, "Justin! Be a gentleman and carry Susan's and Charles' stuff up the stairs to their room, will you?"

"That's nonsense!" replied Susan, "Charles is capable of carrying his own stuff. I don't want to burden your son here..." She flashed me a smile before accompanying my mom up the stairs.

"You'll have to excuse my mom," the boy said to me, "She's a little demanding."

"Her?" I asked in disbelief, "Nah, of course not. Your mom's fine. I think my mom's the one that needs a warning label on her."

"Really," he muttered, "your mom seems fine to me."

Silence. For the remainder of my mother's tour we persisted in keeping the silence; the only thing that changed was the massive weight that we didn't have to carry around. Occasionally I tried to start another conversation, but the words got caught in my throat, and had to cover up my fault by faking a cough. Like I said before, I suck when it comes to anything involving social interaction.

"And finally, here's the kitchen," finished my mother as we entered the last room. "Once in a while you'll find that the refrigerator becomes empty, but that's usually because Justin finishes the food when he's hungry."

"Hey!" I interjected, "That's not true!"

"If any case should occur," continued my mother, "Justin or myself can drive over to Walmart or something and grab some stuff."

"Wait, you drive?" asked Susan. I nodded silently.

"So that's our house," my mother concluded. "I'm guessing that all of you are tired, so if you want you can take a rest."

"Why thank you!" said Susan, stretching slightly, "I really need it too." She turned away from my mother and headed back upstairs.

"Mom, I'm gonna go rolloerblading to the park," I called out, heading towards the garage. I needed some time away from all the commotion that was occuring in this house, especially away from that kid. I couldn't place my finger on what made me feel uncomfortable around him. I knew one reason had to be because of those... eyes. But surely that wasn't the only reason?

"Oh Justin!" called my mother behind me, "Why don't you take Charles along with you?" I froze in my steps in gulped.

"Come...?" I mumbled, "Avec moi?" That, of course, was "with me" in french. I occasionally spoke sentences in French, but usually no one except myself could understand me, so I stuck to the simply short phrases.

"I don't have any rollerblades, Mrs...?"

"Call me Julie. And you can always borrow my husband's."

"Okay," he muttered. "Where is he, by the way?" Your husband I mean."

"Oh, uh, he..." My mother trailed off, almost beginning to cry. I understood her grief; not eve a year ago, my father had suffered a serious stroke. He was rushed to the hospital, but never made it there in time due to a delay of the ambulance.

"Well," I muttered, ushering Charles out of the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder when opnening the door, and managed to see her sink slowly into a chair.

"Are you ready?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"The skates don't fit me," he muttered. "They're kinda big." Sighing, I reluctantly took mine off and switched pairs. "I'm sorry to hear about your dad, though I'm not really sure what happened to him."

"He's, uhh, not coming back to our family. Not that he deserted us or anything, as he'll always be in our hearts, but... yeah." There was yet another odd, awkward silence proceeding this, until...

"I'm ready to go now."

"Good," I said, smiling for the first time around him. "Try to keep up with me." And with that, we kicked off out of the garage.

Chapter one finished. Uh, wow, as I look at this it seems really stupid. But uhm, reviewest while I whip up another chapter.