OCTOBER

Mariah’s private blog:

It’s me again. I’m just going to start. I feel suppressed and unalive. Something is wrong inside of me I do not know what… not just yet anyway. College is looming and I am terrified that I will not be good enough. But I know that’s not it. What’s wrong, I mean. My parents and Clarrise are the ones worried about my next educational step. It’s a dream to me. I am concerned with something else. It’s painful. Maybe I have what Erik has. I feel down. What could be wrong? I am not suffering in any way really. I want help but I could never ask for that. Maybe I’ll ask Erik…? No. Definitely not. He’d… I don’t even know. Just no. I live with it. Later.

Mariah looked again, engrossed. She used her notebook as a disguising agent. The woman she was spying on was just to fascinating to resist watching.

There were not many new students a month and a half into senior year at Highland, and this one before Mariah stood out especially. She had appeared without warning, the entrance as flawless as the woman she seemed to be. Just… there… one day, another seat taken in class. If she had come at the beginning of the year, Mariah probably would not have noticed her as acutely. The addition to the senior class was a pleasant one to behold, but, as with the rest of her class, Mariah was a bit intimidated by her. Not only because she seemed flawless, but because she was shrouded in darkness. Her confidence set a barrier between her and the pain of the world outside. It was in the way she moved mostly. Mariah was fairly certain she was a queen in a past life. She was regal… or something. Mariah came to that description in conclusion and felt ridiculous for thinking in poetry. She always did.

"Who is she?"

"The teachers introduced her," Clarrise whispered, "as ’Mandria.’ She’s only got one name."

’Ah, Mahndreeea,’ Erik sounded out mentally. "Where did she get sushi? Are they serving sushi?"

"No…" Mariah watched the new student place a roll of avocado, rice, and seaweed into a dish of soy sauce. She lifted it to her mouth, placed it on her tongue…

"Mariah! What are you staring at?"

…chewed it gently…

"…Mari-ah…"

…swallowed and sucked lightly on the tips of her chopsticks while meeting Mariah’s gaze.

"Sorry, what?" Mariah looked away quickly.

"I said we should introduce ourselves," Jania stood up, "it’s her first week here. And I want to be sociable."

The girls crossed the cafeteria as a well-protected group. Even though it was only one girl, they were still tentative. Erik decided he did not want to be a part of that venture, and Dan had followed his example. Mariah grew nervous as they approached the cloud around Mandria. She was writing in a journal. Her black knee-high socks were elegantly crossed under her grey pleated skirt. Her white blouse was unbuttoned by three and her sleeves were rolled to her elbows. She wore a metallic camisole beneath the snowy cotton. It was yellow and forest green. Mariah thought she wore the uniform better then anyone. As they approached the table and stopped, Mariah noticed her hair matched her shirt. Yellow and forest green. Mandria lifted her full, false lashes to observe them. She looked past the others, staring intently into Mariah’s eyes. Her eyes were a deep forest green, flecked with metallic yellow. So was her eyeshadow. Mariah liked the way she matched.

"Hello, and welcome to Highland," Julia addressed her as one might an alien, "I am Julia, this is my sister, Jania, this is Clarrise and this is Mariah…"

"Namaste," Mandria said, "Mariah."

Mariah promptly blushed.

Julia seethed. What was so special about Mariah anyhow?

"It’s nice to meet all of you," Mandria said, excusing herself and stepping into the bathroom across the hall. She threw a Look over her shoulder at the tall, awkward girl observing her. Mariah’s heart jumped a little at such a Look. She’d seen enough movies to know what a ’come hither’ Look meant. It was a little intriguing actually. Mariah waiting until her discouraged friends retreated back to their table to follow Mandria. Something about the girl was simply enticing. She’d been around all week and Mariah had watched her. Pleasantly, Mandria was not nearly so scary up close. Especially behind the bathroom’s swinging door, where she stood, waiting. The petite brunette swiftly locked the door in place. Mandria turned then and took Mariah by the waist and lifted her onto the vanity with surprising strength for a small person. ’What? What is going…?’ Mariah thought for a moment. She would have thought logically… but the moment was now. Some of the many advantages to private school: bathroom lounges and skirted uniforms. Mercifully, the vanity was dry. Mariah suspected frenzied preparation, though nothing about the woman in her mouth seemed the least bit frenzied. Mandria kissed her moistly, her lips perfectly hydrated. Mariah was surprised at the kiss. Whatever was happening did not feel too strange to Mariah. She felt comfortable with the girl, oddly enough. Mandria had an effect on her that no words could describe. She wondered why momentarily. Then ignored it again, there was time for thought later. Moments like this only happen every so often after all, she reasoned. Mariah laughed softly as the shapely woman moved down her neck. She possessed one very agile tongue, capable of deft unbuttoning. Mariah’s abdomen tightened beneath the warmth of her touch. Before she knew to protest, Mariah had been removed from her pleated, grey skirt. Mandria lifted her into the lounge area and on to a chaise. She slid easily out of her underwear. Mandria’s tongue continued down, finding its way, methodically, to the place Mariah blushed deeper at. She wondered, before pleasure consumed her entire attention, if Mandria had any teeth at all. That was a distressing thought. Mariah was about to stop Mandria…

A bell rang in the hall and Mandria’s head jerked up to listen. Mariah hurriedly dressed herself, relieved, watching as her new… friend lit a cigarette. She took a few drags and passed it to Mariah before winking her exit. Mariah was confused, but tried to concentrate on getting to class. The cigarette was long and fragrantly black. It smelled of… cooking…? and left a sweet residue on her lips. Mariah crossed the courtyard slowly, not excited to return to class. Besides, her legs were shaking a little. Not surprising. The phrase, "What the fuck was that?" crossed her mind… but left just as swiftly.

After school, Mariah went to Erik’s house with the rest of her friends. It was unofficial tradition. And Erik’s family was loaded. His mother was an ex-beatnik art dealer and his father was the owner of a company he’d begun himself in Tokyo. Their house looked like something out of a Lewis Carroll novel. Some things were very big, and some things were very small. Some walls featured windows bigger then doors. Some were exactly the opposite. The gardens were mazes like they were in palaces. The roof was angled in many directions. In the rain, water sprayed everywhere, making the house look alive. There were fabulous statues in the courtyards and dozens fountains, inside and out. It had been mostly designed my Erik’s mother. She was a sweet, shy, moderatetly-underspoken artist. Mr. Johns, Erik’s father, was purely a businessman. By comparison, Erik took more after his mother. The dark, artistic spirit and bright, bright blue eyes. Besides, there was nothing Erik liked better then painting in the dark, by candlelight, as did his mother. Well… Dan came in a very close second.

"Mariah, where did you disappear to after to after lunch?" Clarrise asked.

"…I went for a run," Mariah fiddled with her hair.

"Nice lie," Dan laughed.

"I agreed," Erik slid up on to the countertop.

"Bitch," Mariah hissed.

"Closet case," Erik smiled at her.

She hated Erik for always thinking he knew everything. Signature Aquarius, so infuriating. Even if he did not say it, which he usually did not… she could tell. His eyes expressed everything but revealed little.

Before Mariah and Erik started fighting, Clarrise let it go and simply ignored Mariah for the rest of the day. Nobody ever left Erik’s house. They just existed there until their families wanted them home, or they had to go to school. Erik’s parents did not mind at all. They were usually traveling with work anyway.

"I love you, Mariah," Erik hugged her. "I’m sorry."

She hugged him back and noticed that he was sniffing her hair.

"What are you doing?" she pushed him off.

"You smoke?" he smiled.

"No. I don’t."

He just stared at her. There was information in his eyes. Erik was deducing from her body language everything he wanted to know. She was exceedingly uncomfortable. Dan was also staring. Being the only three people left in the kitchen, Mariah felt alone. And they were smiling at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Mandria was smoking then?" Dan was trying not to smile.

Mariah’s face paled as she realized what they were guessing.

"Don’t worry," Erik patted her head, "I won’t tell…"

"Oh, God!" Mariah covered her face.

Dan snickered but Erik shushed him.

Mariah wanted to hide.

"It’s okay, hun," Erik hugged her, "Mandria’s just like that."

"You know her?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Go do your homework, study bug."

"Yeah…" she trudged off.

"How do you know Mandria?" Dan asked once she had gone.

"CORPSE," Erik replied, offering a wine bottle for Dan to uncork.

"Oh."

Mariah hoped to God that it had been a dream. It would have been a convenient dream, to strip in the bathroom and never have to deal with it. Mariah was not the type to do that, it was totally uncharacteristic. Even though it had been enjoyable…

’No, it’s wrong and I am not a… dear God, what if I am?’ Mariah thought that night, lying in bed. ’I couldn’t be… no, that’s impossible. I like boys, so how could I be a… Oh, why did I let her kiss me? That wasn’t right, I know it. It’s wrong. Right? But I’m okay with Dan and Erik… it’s okay for them but not me? I’m so confused. I’ll deal with this tomorrow.’

First period she did not see Mandria, but as she sat down in second period Creative Writing, there in the corner was that tiny model with her hair covering one eye, her left eye. She looked up as Mariah sat down a few rows away. Mariah waved awkwardly. Mandria reciprocated with a pinky-wiggle. Mandria acted natural around her, so nothing was as uncomfortable as Mariah felt. Mariah watched Mandria curiously over then next few days. Mandria was good conversation, somewhat quiet if anything. They sat together at lunch and Mariah learned her new friend was a vegan. And would not reconsider her position. She never scoffed at meat or dairy, but just would not eat it. Mariah felt guilty eating around her. Upon such a revelation, Mandria assured her she was not the least offended. "It’s a personal choice and I’ve made mine. You have to make your own decisions you know." That only made Mariah feel more guilty. Most people seemed to like her, or admire her at a distance. Mariah was fascinated by the effect she’d had in so little time. And Erik liked her quite a lot. Erik had known her already; not for a long time, just under six months, but they quickly because best friends. They left school sometimes to go shopping. They always brought presents back, but Clarrise still yelled at them. Mariah found it entertaining. She went with them once… but never again. She felt that the risk was too great. Mandria only smiled, and understood. Mariah, however was still uncertain how to feel around this new hurricane. Mandria was a good, if lazy, student who always found a minute for a friend in need. Mariah envied that. There was a freedom that Mandria had, and she wanted it. With college under a year away, stress was mounting for Mariah. Every grade was one step closer to, or further from, Ivy League. Mariah desperately wanted to forget school and spend all her time playing at a whim. She confided such a thought to Clarrise.

"Are you crazy?" Clarrise screeched. "Ivy League has been your dream since… freshman year? I listened to your ranting, stayed with you when you got depressed. I helped you cheat, remember? And that was on a final too. If you give up now I will never ever speak to you again…"

Mariah never spoke of that again to Clarrise, though she thought it often. It was her parents dream to send her away to an expensive Ivy League school. Not hers. That most of all made her long for the freedom Mandria owned. She got her chance at to experience it, nearing the end of the month, when Erik invited Mariah to a party.

"It’s this Friday at my house," he issued her an invitation with two fingers. Signature Erik.

"Oh…"Mariah read it over, "I—I think…"

"You don’t want to go, do you?"

"I… don’t really like parties, Erik," Mariah said awkwardly. "I feel out of place… I don’t drink or smoke or… do… drugs… and spontaneity is totally not in my nature…"

"It’s definitely going to have all those things," Erik nodded, taking a seat next to her, "but it’s a friend’s birthday, so it won’t be too wild. We’re a good deal more mature then you’re giving us credit for. You know how old this friend is? Forty-seven this Saturday. Yeah, I know. You’ve got the whole idea wrong. High school parties are indulgent without intellect. But… CORPSE parties… are philosophically decadent. Drugs are used to heighten the creative levels of the room. To inspire, to help break a starving artist out of their slump…"

Mariah stared at him blankly. "Erik," she sighed, "if you were an animal you’d be a snake."

"No," he kissed her cheek sweetly, "I’d be a kitten."

"Well, I suppose I could see it. Crafty bitch."

"Please come?"

"Why are you throwing a party for… is she a friend of your mother’s?" Mariah asked, completely serious.

"No!" Erik laughed, "she’s the bass player in… CORPSE. She’s a good friend of Mandria’s. So… yeah. That’s why."

Mariah ended up agreeing to go but only after Erik promised to take her shopping.

"Besides," he smirked, "I want to introduce you to someone."

That made her nervous.

After school Erik and Mariah walked downtown to meet Erik’s friend. Instead of the usual locations, Erik dragged her down an alley to a stairwell. As soon as they began descending, Mariah saw an area of the city she’d never been before. Granted, she’d not been many places. It was an entire underground mall, lit with black light and neon. The office building above blocked out all sunlight from the subterranean shopping center. There was indirect lighting around the ceiling, assisting somewhat, yet still leaving the place quite dark. Fortunately, most of the benches and obstacles that could present a problem were painted in florescent paint. Black light shone up through the floor and out from the walls. Everything was bathed in bright colours. Erik led Mariah over to a café. It had massive umbrellas up even though they weren’t necessary. At a table nearest the establishment, were Dan and two others Mariah did not know. One had gleaming electric blue hair in the black light. The other was quiet and regal in a lime and black ensemble. Dan stood up, offering his seat to Erik. The one with blue hair offered his seat to Mariah. She sat down as Dan and Erik finished kissing.

"So," Dan pulled up another chair, "This is Alyx…"

"Hey," the blue hair bobbed at her.

"Hello," Mariah forced a smile.

"…and this is Lima," Erik squeezed the black-gloved hand next to him, "like, as in Peru."

"It is lovely to meet you at last," Lima had a divinely smoky voice. "Erik speaks of you often."

Mariah was unable to answer. She suddenly couldn’t decide if Lima was a man or a woman, though she was fairly certain Lima spoke in cursive. Lima was dressed like a woman but talked like a man, and his/her body was rather masculine. She… didn’t know what to do.

"Mariah," Erik smirked at her.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Would you like to see her driver’s license?"

Lima opened her clutch and took out the white card. Mariah looked at the picture, seeing a 16-year-old boy with short black hair. His eyes were impressively green. The name on the license was ’David.’

’I don’t understand,’ she thought. Mariah definitely did not want to offend anyone, but she wanted to understand. Her face reddened. A lot.

"Legally, my name is Lima Cloche," the green entity spoke, "originally, it was David Shaun Emerson. Refer to me as you would one of your female friends and it will be fine."

"You use words well," Mariah smiled.

"I’d like to think so," Lima reclaimed her license. "And thank you."

"Can I ask… a question?"

"Certainly," her smile was beautifully white.

"Oh, um… do you—what is your… um… orientation?" she asked with mounting awkwardness that Lima seemed to be accustomed to.

"I believe," Lima looked over at Erik for input, "the correct term is transgender… but as I consider myself a woman, I usually say straight."

"So you like… boys?"

"I like men," Lima nodded, smiling at Mariah’s discomfort, "thus you may say I am homosexual, as well. Quite technically."

Mariah’s head spun a little bit. "Is it hard to live normally?"

"Mm…" Lima tapped her lip thoughtfully, "it can be, at times… using Dan for an example, if I may…?"

Dan nodded, looking bashfully into his coffee cup. Erik, sitting on his lap, hugged him tightly. Mariah’s interest was piqued, but they didn’t look like they wanted to talk. Lima squeezed Dan’s hand.

"…very well," Lima continued, "were you ever regaled the tale of Dan’s athletic past? Yes, he was a gymnast. He was also a member of his school’s football league. After he was outed… do you know what that means, Mariah?"

"’Outed’ means some jag-off tells the entire school the truth about your preference," Dan spat. Erik touched foreheads with him. Smiling through the hurt was not easy, but Dan managed to at least try for Erik. Mariah felt sad for him. She made a mental note to hug him later.

"…He was subjected to a good deal of persecution. Locker rooms can be, and usually are, torturous for those of… different natures," Lima sighed. "But, had it not been for that horrible day, Erik never would have found him."

"It’s true," Alyx nodded.

Erik smirked at the blue one. Dan hugged his boyfriend until he squeaked.

Mariah felt… awkward. Just… awkward. She was the only one of questionable straightness at the table, in the heart of counter-culture city. ’How did I get here?’ she wondered, naively. ’I am definitely not part of this place… I’m not supposed to be here! I should be in the light, not in the dark.’ Mariah pondered that for a moment. Why shouldn’t she be there? Was there a rule she had made? Subconsciously? Mariah did not know but the uncomfortable feeling did not go away. Mariah thought while the three boys—and Lima—talked. She was fine with them, it slowly came to her, but she was not okay with herself. They had made their own choices, come to their own realizations. She had yet to delve into her own self to find the answers to the questions she was discovering.

"Mariah," Alyx mused, "you look bored, let’s go."

"Costumes?" Lima asked.

"Costumes!" Erik nodded.

Friday night arrived too quickly. Mariah dreaded parties. They made her feel boxed in. But at least this one was in a very familiar location. Erik’s house looked the way it always had… but inside was suddenly very Dracula. Mariah walked through the glassy foyer, bemused. If anyone liked parties, Erik was a great friend to have.

"Hello?" she called.

"Kitchen!"

Mariah pushed past dangling skeletons and frayed drapery to the kitchen. Erik was sitting cross-legged on the counter, as always, cutting a filet of fish. If sushi were an addiction, Erik would be the first to sign up for the meetings. Dan was in the walk-in refrigerator, talking very loudly about something.

"I can’t hear you, babe…" Erik barely said. He didn’t care. "Hello, gorgeous!"

Blushing, Mariah set her peace offering next to the host.

"A vampire, Erik?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Alice in Wonderland?" he retorted with grinning fangs.

Mariah straightened her satiny blue dress. The tiny white apron flapped absurdly when she walked. Her hair was held by a black band, which she shook for dignity.

"That’s creepy, Erik. You’re so silly," Mariah said affectionately.

"Is why I do it," Erik said, opening the bag she had put beside him. "You followed the list…? Oh, well done! Points for Alice."

"Yay," Mariah was sarcastic. "Can I help at all?"

"You can help Dan with whatever he’s complaining about, if you like," Erik resumed cutting, "There’s plenty to do but I think Dan’s got the list… oh, throw a few bottles on ice, alright?"

"I can do that… bottles of what?"

"Anything," Erik smiled evilly.

"Whatever," Mariah sighed.

In the basement, there was a massive room devoted to alcohol storage. Erik’s parents condoned drinking. They trusted Erik to be responsible, which he tried to be. It was a losing battle. Erik did not have much self-control. Mariah knew how to select wines from being around Dan enough. He loved wine, almost as much as he loved Erik. She picked a few bottles of red, two white and came back for Champagne. The hard stuff was in a closet, behind the racks and racks of dusty wine bottles. She brought some of everything.

"Erik," she said, returning to the main level arms full, "you’re running low on vodka."

"What?" he was startled, "how many do you have?"

"One point… three."

"That’s bad," vampire-Erik pondered, "um… upstairs, you’ll find Mandria and a tall man. His name is Ryan. They should be doing makeup."

"I’m going to be scarred, aren’t I?"

"Welcome to Wonderland, Alice."

Mariah laughed and scampered upstairs. Mandria was fighting with a tall, blond man in zombie garb in the hallway. He was letting her win.

"…your ass is mine!" she launched herself on to his back.

"God, I’m putting you back in jujitsu," he continued walking. "Oh, hello…"

"Hi," Mariah smiled.

"Hey, Mariah," Mandria smiled over his shoulder at her. "This is Ryan. Ryan, this is Mariah."

They shook hands.

"I was actually looking for you, Ryan, Erik wants you for something."

"Right, then," he sighed in his Yorkshire accent, "Mandria, get off."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You won’t fight me."

"I need to leave," Ryan shook his head pointedly at Mariah who smiled. "I’ll fight you later, alright?"

"For real, or are you going to pity-fight me again?"

"Eh… we’ll talk."

"Okay," Mandria slid to the floor. She was dressed as a geisha. "Honestly, it’s a little hard to move at the moment."

"I’d imagine so," Mariah touched the silky material.

"Seriously, there are like nine layers!" she insisted.

Zombie-Ryan slunk down the stairs. He hollered at Erik who said something sarcastic back. Ryan just laughed, completing his voyage down to his master. Mandria walked over to Mariah in her black kimono with its sapphire obi. She had even found the authentic wooden sandals. Somewhat less authentically, Mandria had carelessly stuck her hair up with chopsticks. She flapped her long sleeves whimsically.

"So…" Mandria said, "that’s Ryan. He’s like my brother."

"Um, okay…" Mariah didn’t know what to do.

"Come on, let’s do makeup," Mandria pulled her into a bedroom, "do you have any brothers, Mariah?"

"Uh, no," Mandria said, sitting through Mandria’s thorough application.

"Oh… I’m an only child, too," she stated, powdering everything in sight, "but Ryan lives with me now and we are a Family. Heh, CORPSE family. Awesome."

"Corpse?"

"Yeah, the Band," Mandria said, drawing tiny motifs around her eyes, "we is Family. Okay, let’s go."

"Wha--?"

Mandria took Mariah by the hand and they skipped back downstairs. Mandria skipped. Mariah tried to keep up. Erik smiled them into the kitchen. Ryan had gone and Lima was with Dan.

"Okay," Dan said to Erik, "we’re good."

"Really? That was fast," Erik said, "we still have an hour…"

"No, wait, I lied," Dan erased something, "we have to load shots."

"Oh, right," Erik thought.

"Okay… Mariah?" Dan looked back, "could you give me a hand?"

"Yeah," she left Mandria’s side reluctantly.

He led her into the walk-in and towards a shelf covered with tiny shot glasses of every color.

"This is why we ran out of vodka," Dan said.

"Dan?" Erik called.

"What?"

"Ryan’s back."

"Oh, okay," Dan grabbed a few trays. "Um, I’m going to get Ryan to do this. One second…"

Mariah waited for Ryan to step in. They loaded up several trays together and brought them to a table. As they were organizing them into layers, Ryan shyly conversed with Mariah.

"…you go to school with Mandria?" he said softly.

"Yes," Mariah smiled, "how do you know her?"

"I knew, um… I knew her dad for a bit. He sort of worked for—with me, with me. And he introduced me to Mandria," he licked his lips. "When he died I asked Mandria to be my flat mate. And now she is my baby sister."

Ryan was blushing. He obviously thought very highly of her. ’Sure, family,’ Mariah thought, certain that there was romance dipped in there somewhere.

"That’s sweet," Mariah smiled.

"I suppose," Ryan shrugged. "She isn’t a good flat mate at all. Most of the time I feel like her bloody slave. She never cleans or cooks for herself, she won’t go to the shop… she pays the rent and smokes. That’s it."

"Sounds like something she’d do."

"What about you?" Ryan brushed back his spiky hair, "is your place around here?"

"Um… I’m still seventeen," Mariah laughed, "I live at home!"

"You should live with us," he smirked, "then maybe she’d do her share."

"Why do you say that?"

"She only cleans when she’s ’having someone over.’"

"Oh," Mariah looked down, into a blue shot glass, slightly troubled. She was unacquainted with Mandria’s free-loving ways. She felt she shouldn’t have been surprised though, considering the bathroom incident. That just pissed her off more.

"Sorry," Ryan said, "I didn’t mean to offend you… Mandria is… Mandria. That’s all."

"No, I know," Mariah nodded, "I just wish she didn’t do… that."

A good twenty minutes went by until Mandria and Erik appeared. Mariah snapped her eyes shut. Mandria was disrobing front of her.

"Mandria?" Mariah said, peeking out.

"Oh, no worries, Mariah," Dan followed them. "She’s only naked."

Erik just snickered as he washed Mandria’s pale skin. "Don’t be scared, Mariah, it’s not like you’ve never seen a woman’s body before, right?"

"I hate you, Erik," Mariah seethed.

Mandria smiled.

"What are you doing?"

"I’m going to cover her in…" Erik pointed to a few platters on a table, "…sushi."

"What?" Mariah almost laughed.

"Hey," Dan defended his lover, "it was her idea."

"Way to make me sound classy, Daniel!" Mandria lay out on a table.

"Yes, ’Daniel,’" Erik mimicked her, "Mandria is a classy woman, do not sully her good name."

"When this is over, I’m killing the both of you!" Mandria laughed, trying hard not to move, but she did not care that much. Erik gently placed pieces of sushi over her exposed skin. She laughed a little. Dan smacked her hand, "No moving… lady." Mariah watched intently as Erik made patterns with the different colours of fish. Mandria opened her mouth and he placed a piece of avocado roll on it. She asked Mariah to put music on and made her tiny fingers dance on the tablecloth. Mariah sat next to the decorated lady. Mandria still had her geisha makeup on. But she still looked ravishing, even covered in rice. And Mariah told her so.

"Oh, thanks, sweetie!" Mandria blushed under her pale powder, "give Mandria love."

She pursed her lips and Mariah tentatively kissed her. Mandria had been expecting something more lingering. She asked Mariah to come back, but the tall girl would not.

"Hey, I can’t move," Mandria protested, "that’s not fair."

"Then…" Mariah smirked boldly, "you lose."

Mandria’s eyes got enormous, then closed tightly as she laughed, "Oh, you’re a bitch today!"

Erik shot a glance at Mariah as she walked inside again. She ignored it. She was nearly through the door when she heard Mandria’s soft, little voice saying that she liked Mariah a lot. Dan approved. Erik (Mariah assumed) was still smiling. She felt suddenly very confident. Being liked was empowering. Mariah spotted Ryan talking to someone in the parlor. She walked over to join them. Surprisingly, the man turned out to be Erik… right?

"Wait…" Mariah laughed, "what?"

"You don’t remember me?" the voice was not Erik’s. "Hi, I’m Alyx, we met a few days ago."

They shook hands again. Mariah just smiled.

"You… look a lot like Erik," she said.

"I know," he smirked evilly, "it’s why I do it."

"Has he seen you yet?" she asked.

"No."

"Good," Mariah led him away, "go hit on Dan."

"This is going to suck," Ryan spoke into his wine glass.

They watched from the doorway as Alyx-Erik stood subtly beside Dan. He grabbed his hand. He touched his head. Slowly, Dan turned to the disguised man next him and got confused.

"Oh. My. God," he said. "Erik?"

The real Erik turned around. He nearly jumped out of his skin. "Alyx! This is insane!" Erik was delighted. "Dan, can I make out with myself? Real quick?"

"Hang on," Dan picked up a camera, "sure, go for it."

Mariah sighed. Boys kissing made her smile. And then made her feel dirty, but the initial reaction was worth it. Ryan laughed. Erik and Alyx posed with each other as Dan giggled to himself and took pictures.

"They’re so crazy," Ryan sighed.

"Yeah," Mariah smiled, "I wish I’d have met them freshman year."

"Then I would have met you sooner."

"Exactly."

Mariah looked up at Ryan, because he was very tall. He smiled back down at her. Throughout the evening, he stayed with her. Mariah was introduced to the birthday… woman, who looked no older then thirty. They sang ’Happy Birthday’ whilst leading the Scandinavian giant to the back of the house where Mandria lay, waiting. She gave a peace-sign when Faye walked out of the house. Faye’s eyes lit up and turned slowly to Erik’s head, a foot below her own. She sincerely thanked him. He bowed to her methodically. Faye closed the curtains on the windows and the two of them were not seen again for an hour. When finally they emerged, Mandria was flushed and Faye had her arm around the tiny woman. Mariah watched them walk into the room, like a couple. She wondered if they were a couple. Mandria suddenly turned to the stairs, throwing her Look at Faye. Mariah’s heart pounded a little with jealousy. Faye snatched a bottle of Champagne, following Mandria upstairs. Mariah stared angrily after them when suddenly Ryan appeared and wrapped her in a delicious hug.

"Come with me," he whispered into her hair.

"Where?"

He took her by the hand and went into a secluded room on the third floor of the house. There was a small black cat sleeping on the bed. It was Erik’s cat, Hell’s Belle. Dan had given her to him. She was only nice to Erik and tolerated Dan to an extent.

"Go on, Belle," Mariah shooed her away.

Hell’s Belle obeyed with a ferocious mew. Ryan sat against the headboard and Mariah sat next to him. He pushed her hair back and kissed her softly. She, somehow, felt really correct with him. She wasn’t into it, but it felt right. ’Maybe I’m straight, after all,’ she thought momentarily. Ryan was a decent kisser, though Mariah did not know how good she was. He tickled her neck, reaching up her skirt with the other hand. Mariah stopped him.

"What’s wrong?" he whispered.

"Don’t…"

"Mandria?" he nodded.

"Um… it’s—no, it’s not Mandria," Mariah shook her head, "just, I can’t tonight."

"That’s okay," he replied and went right on kissing her.

When the next morning came, pre-dawn light struggled through blue lace over the window. It coated the room in strangled hues. Mariah was certain she had only just closed her eyes. The clock told her otherwise. Ryan was asleep on her shoulder. Moving very carefully, Mariah tried to get up. The door opened. Mariah looked up guiltily. It was Mandria. She observed the situation and covered her laughing mouth with her hand. The door closed again. Mariah sighed and went downstairs. She only saw Dan. He was eating breakfast.

"Your mom called," he said slyly at her.

"Oh, sh—" Mariah screeched.

"Shhh…" Dan shushed her, "don’t worry, I told her we just all stayed over at Erik’s house. She likes him, right?"

"Yes."

"Then it’s all good," Dan smiled, wiping his hands, "would you like a ride home?"

"Um, no, I drove," Mariah pulled on her shoes, "thanks, anyway."

"Hey," Dan said, "sit down, stay awhile. Tell me about Ryan?"

"Oh, right," Mariah smiled. "We had a sleepover, that’s it."

"Really?"

"Yes, really, Daniel. Seriously, I need to leave!"

"So, I’ll see you Monday?"

"Yeah," Mariah picked up her keys and bolted, "bye!"

The drive home seemed to take forever. Mariah thought about Ryan. He appeared to be a great find. He was sweet and sympathetic, understanding. Mariah thought she might like him but she did not know how close he was to Mandria, though that didn’t make much difference since they both saw other people. Mariah could imagine a relationship with Ryan. He would be a good boyfriend, she felt. But then there was Mandria. What about Mandria?

’Am I a… lesbian?’ Mariah thought to herself. ’No, I just spent the night with a guy! How could I be a lesbian? There was that lapse in the bathroom. But that was a one time thing! I can’t be a lesbian. Mandria is… right? She must be. After me and Faye, that’s evidence enough. What did Erik say… about her boyfriend? Mandria doesn’t… have a boyfriend… does she? But then what about the girls? Does he approve? Shouldn’t there be just two people…? Mandria is confusing.’

For a moment she wanted to call Erik to ask, but it was only 6:30 in the morning. Mariah decided it could wait another hour. Or five.

"Good morning, Erik," Dan crawled into bed beside him.

"…meh…"

"Aw, so cute. How hung over are you?"

Dan could have sworn he heard ’tree-full of monkeys’ in response, but he didn’t ask. It could have been something pertaining to coffee. Dan kissed the top of the dark head next to him, and lay on his back, waiting for Erik to wake up. Erik hardly moved.

"I hate you."

"What?" Dan smiled at the ceiling, "why?"

"…drink more…"

"No," he laughed, "it’s not even seven."

"Yeah… but then I’ll feel better."

"Your logic burns, Erik," Dan sighed.

"Your tolerance makes me cry," Erik muttered.

"I’m Russian! I can take my vodka."

"…what will I do with you?"

Erik opened his eyes in the dark room. Dan brushed hair away from his eyes, exposing both of them for the first time in weeks. Erik hurriedly shook it back into place. It was not a new battle, and Dan always let his boyfriend win. He leaned down a kissed him softly. Erik smiled. Dan lit two cigarettes and lifted Erik into his lap. They watched the sun rising over the pool house in the back of the house. The colours streamed together, mixing through the clove smoke in the stately room. Erik searched next to him and produced a digital camera. He turned to Dan and took three shots in rapid succession. Reviewing them lazily, Erik showed Dan.

"I liked the way the light was highlighting your face…" he whispered.

"With the smoke’s shadows?" Dan nodded, examining the screen.

"Yeah," Erik nuzzled back into his place under Dan’s chin, "you’re pretty…"

(18 April, the previous school year…)

Dan’s allotted three days passed and he was forced to return to school. His entire body shook before walking in. The building was the same, of course, but it felt different, like he no longer belonged there. People walking past looked anxiously into their coffee cups, trying to not see him. The few that caught his eye were the ones that pitied him. He wasn’t sure which look was worse. Dan postponed his entry for a moment. There was an insane amount of bass coming from the parking lot. Dan turned, half-expecting to see an ex-friend there. Instead, there was a red Thunderbird, idling not twenty feet away. With an impressed eyebrow raise, Dan looked at the driver. The hair was tragically familiar, even disguised with aviator shades and a cigarette.

"Erik…" Dan gasped, walking over.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he exhaled.

"What are you doing here?" Dan laughed, touching the cherry coat reverently.

"Stalking you," Erik opened the passenger side door, "Come on in."

There were still a few minutes until class started. Dan slid into the dark, leather interior. He peered through the smoke at his savior. Erik looked really calm, as always. The cigarette balanced delicately between his thumb and middle finger. They talked easily about school things. Erik still had another day or two until he was re-sentenced.

"I hate that hell-hole; I go to ..:namespace prefix st1 ns "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /Highland," Erik took another drag, "oh, wait, sorry… do you smoke?"

"Um, no… thanks," Dan smiled.

"You should start," Erik smirked, "fuck jocks, play with my people."

"And who are your people?"

"The intellectual rejects," Erik’s eyes glimmered behind the blue lenses, "no facade, just honest, real existence."

"More fun?"

"Way more," Erik nodded, "here… just breathe normally."

Erik took a long drag, then put his mouth against Dan’s. He breathed smoky air into the expectant recipient’s mouth. Dan felt a tingling in his throat. Exhaling a steady stream, Dan’s head started feeling light.

"Oh…" he blinked, thinking, ’Erik’s really forward.’

"Not hard at all, is it?" Erik licked the corner of his mouth.

"No…"

Dan smiled out the window. He caught sight of a had-been-friend watching. Erik looked behind to see what Dan saw. Noticing Dan’s discomfort, Erik nodded at the jersey-clad junior. The boy was startled. He bit his lip before being escorted inside by a few other of his teammates. Erik looked back to find his friend blushing. The colour was growing in his face. No longer was Dan as confident as Erik had been making him feel. Embarrassment was the furthest thing from his mind. Dan was angry. Reality was returning in the form of hatred.

"Dan," Erik said.

"What?"

"School is starting in a few minutes?"

"About five, yeah… why?" Dan muttered.

"Okay," Erik placed his cigarette in Dan’s mouth. He pulled into a parking space. Dan laughed, teaching himself to smoke in the process. He wondered what Erik could be up to. Erik turned the car off and went out the door. Following, Dan put the cigarette out on the asphalt. With the tall, dark man leading the way, Dan went again into the building he hated. Erik peered around the foyer, observing the rent-a-cop authority patrolling the attendance office. He strode over and began talking to the little man. Dan could not hear what they were saying. Erik removed his sunglasses with a flourish of his long bangs. Dan smirked. Convincingly, Erik pointed at Dan with the aviators in hand. The small man with the radio nodded, leading Erik into the deans’ office. Dan followed them, uncertain of what else to do. Erik was shaking hands with the administration through the pane of glass that separated them. He spoke in a well-mannered fashion… until he took the dean in question to the corner. They said nothing, but currency exchanged hands. The dean half bowed to Erik. Erik just patted him on the back and thanked him for his time. Back in the hallway, as they were walking away, Erik smiled.

"What did you do?" Dan whispered.

"Negotiated, my good man," Erik opened the door for his companion. "Heh, public schools…"

"So…" Dan stopped him, "are you…?"

"I’m staying," Erik nodded, replacing his shades on his face.

"All day? With... me?" Dan was too excited to hide it well.

"Yes, Daniel. With you."

"How…?"

Erik smiled, "I told him that it would be in your best interest that I be here today."

"You paid him, though," Dan smiled. "What did you…?"

"Oh, don’t worry about that, Daniel," Erik patted his head sweetly, "you’re worth more then that to me, I assure you. Shall we?"

"Uh… sure…" Dan walked, dazed, into his first class.

For being tall and lankly, Erik was intimidating in his bodyguard attitude. He let no one get away with anything and, after first period’s rumors began flying, no one dared. Dan was grateful beyond words. When the afternoon came around, Erik talked Dan’s way out of lunch, study hall and gym to go off campus.

"He will return for the final period," Erik said, producing more currency.

"Absolutely," the delighted dean tucked away his deal, "but be sure you empty out your gym locker before you leave us, alright, Dan?"

"Yes, sir," Dan nodded with dread.

They walked out to the parking lot casually. Once the dean was out of sight and they were safely tucked into the Thunderbird, Erik noticed Dan had broken out into a sweat.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Dan was shaking again, "I just don’t want to go back into the locker room… ever. Unless it’s to kill people."

"Don’t worry about it," Erik said, "I’ll take care of it…"

He tongued open his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts. Soon, Erik was chattering away in Japanese. He grinned over at Dan, who was uncomfortable with not knowing what was happening. The red car cruised away with impressive speed. Erik was unconcerned with the traffic laws he violated. The conversation ended at last and Erik smiled to himself. Dan thought it was better not to know. With a sudden blast, music poured through the seats. Dan sat up, surprised. He slowly turned his gaze to Erik who was lighting a cigarette.

"Oh, yes, Daniel," he said, "this is how I roll."

"Jesus!" Dan laughed, "never say that again!"

"As you wish. Cigarette?"

"…what the hell? Oh, and… uh, Erik?"

"Yah?"

"I… I really don’t know what I would have done without you today."

"Think nothing of it, hun."

They drove around for an hour, wasting gas. Erik seemed unconcerned with where he was going. He just smoked, drove and talked loudly over the music he refused to turn down. Nearly last period, Dan gave Erik a twenty-minute heads up.

"Twenty minutes?" Erik said.

"Yeah…?"

"…shit."

Dan’s head snapped back as Erik sped off into the oncoming traffic. His mind was racing but he felt relatively safe with Erik. Relatively. They made it back to the school in time. Dan’s heart was in his throat. Erik led him back inside for Painting.

"You’re… you paint?" Erik whispered.

"Not well, but I can," Dan shrugged, trying to lift a canvas down from a shelf.

In addition to his height, the injury made it rather difficult for Dan to lift his arms. Erik snatched it for him. For his last period in the school, it was an awkward one. Erik mooned over his shoulder, loving every stroke. He wanted to know everything about the painting. Dan did not know what to say. It was only a swirl of colours. He was trying to paint with his heart. That wasn’t currently easy, as his heart was full of fear and revenge. Erik’s hand brushed his bare arm. They jumped apart and Erik apologized.

"No… it’s, it’s fine, Erik…" Dan blushed a little.

"Are… are… you blushing?" Erik whispered. He was delighted.

"Fuck. You," Dan smiled back.

"I like you, too," he bit his lip.

"Can’t we do this later?" Dan looked around fearfully.

"Yeah," Erik sat back. "I won’t distract you any more…"

Yellow paint flew across the canvas, followed by white. Dan smiled. Now his heart was full of Erik.

After that final period, Dan started sweating. He did not want to go back into the locker room. Erik patted him on the shoulder and asked him to lead him to the locker room. Dan walked slowly. Erik handed him his mp3 player and instantly ridiculously happy music began. It was bouncy and light and helped him relax. They stopped by a side door to let a few large Japanese men in. While Erik was talking to them Dan looked through Erik’s library. Every artist was an anime band or a house, techno, or classical artist. It made Dan smile. The large Japanese men stood alongside Dan and Erik and followed them into the locker room.

The football team was dressing. They all looked up when the six people walked past. Dan did not look up. Erik took his hand after they turned the corner, out of sight. Dan tried to relax. He cleared out his locker as Erik sat on a bench, smoking. The coach came around the corner, following the smoke.

"Excus—hello, Dan," the coach valued his life too much to mess with the four huge, well-dressed men. "We’ll miss you."

"Sure you will, James," Dan didn’t even look at him.

The coach nodded and walked away. Dan brought out about thirty empty cans of Monster and recycled them. Dan tried to lift his bags on to his shoulder, and found it strenuous.

"Dan," Erik took them for him.

"Thanks," he said.

They walked out of the locker room, following and being followed by two of their escort. Steve stood up, a towel around his neck.

"Dan?" he spoke.

On hearing that voice, Dan froze. He turned and glared at the small freshman. One of the Japanese men lifted the boy and helped him to sit back down. No one said anything after that. Outside, Dan and Erik thanked the four men profusely and then drove off to get coffee. Dan ordered his the way he always did: small coffee, four shots of espresso. He’d been raised on strong coffee and was not about to break that habit. Erik ordered green tea. They sat at the café for hours, just talking. Well, Dan did most of the talking. Erik passively listened. He enjoyed every moment too. They discussed religion and political views and philosophy, anything that would get them passionate. Dan was always up for the argument.

Around six o’clock, Erik suggested they get dinner. Dan was hesitant to accept. But Erik was persistent.

"Come on, I insist," he said, "you have put up with me all day, it’s the very least I could do to thank you for letting me stay."

"What kind of logic is that?"

"Please?"

"Alright, fine," Dan laughed.

They went to a nice restaurant uptown and had sushi. They continued talking for another three hours over dinner, then dessert and espresso at another restaurant. Erik took off his flip-flops and slid his cool, bare foot up Dan’s pant leg. Dan smiled with surprise.

"Why, Erik," he said softly, "are you flirting with me?"

"I might be…"

The next day, a package arrived at Dan’s house. It was small and flat. When Dan opened it, there was a plastic, medical bracelet inside. It was Erik’s. Dan smiled and set it inside a box in the crawl space in his closet. Over the next three weeks, many packages and letters came for him. They were all from Erik. Dan always responded to them. The very last package to arrive was a painting of Dan crouching in the locker room. He was turning to shoot a smile at the viewer… or painter. Erik had remembered him well. The detail was intense. Dan hung it on his closet door.

Early on a Monday morning Dan finished his French test with ten minutes left in class. He took the opportunity to sleep. As he was drifting off, he thought about the previous class period: creative writing. Their assignment for that weekend had been to write about the most important/life changing moment they had experienced. Dan wrote about the same thing Erik had. They worked on their papers all Sunday before each of them thought to ask.

"What did you choose?" Erik chewed on the end of his black pen.

"Why?"

"Because I just… thought that we might have… identical papers," Erik shrugged, resuming his writing. "And I’ll change mine if you… want…?"

Dan was less then pleased upon closer examination of their papers. They were indeed writing about the same day…

Fifteen April, the previous school year

Football practice had ended. Dan and the rest of the team were in the locker room, showering and changing. He had been apprehensive all day about practice. One of his teammates had found out about him kissing another guy over Christmas Break. If that wasn’t enough, Dan’s Christmas Break friend was transferring in. Or so the rumors went. But the fact stood: Dan did not like girls romantically. He never had. Such a statement was of hot conversation in the locker room that day, in hushed voices of course. Dan pulled off his jersey, padding and all. He wiped his face on a white towel. When he looked up again, one of the receivers was standing there.

"Yeah?" Dan asked.

"Are you gay?"

His heart stopped a little.

"Would that be a problem?" Dan asked.

"Answer me."

"Yes, I am," Dan sounded calmer then he felt.

Steve, the receiver, nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact. He checked his teammate into the lockers then blocked at him to the showers. Dan was too stunned to react. Steve had been a good friend of his, even if he was a freshman. His speed got him to varsity. Steve was small and strong. Dan did not want to hurt him.

"Steve, what the hell?" Dan pushed him off.

"You’re not!" he snarled. "That’s not true!"

"Why do you say…?" Dan saw the switchblade in his hand only a moment before it was inside of him. The sound of it opening echoed in the tiled room. Everything was suddenly quiet. Several other of his teammates walked in like secret police. They turned on all the showers and wiped down the blade as Dan slid down the wall, to the floor. They left him there, watching his blood swirling down the drains. Dan heard them laughing and congratulating Steve on his conquest of ’the queer’.

"Jesus," Dan coughed. Everything echoed in that room.

Blood started falling from his mouth. He wanted to sleep. Dan raised his hand to find the hole in his chest. It wasn’t wide, only deep. And warm. Dan held it firmly, losing consciousness quickly. He didn’t remember closing his eyes, but he opened them to find the assistant coach shaking him.

"Daniel!" he echoed.

"…yes, coach?"

"Thank God," he bowed his head, "okay, we’re going to take you to the hospital, alright? Just stay with me… Dan, stay with me, bud… come on…"

…come on…

The bell rang, interrupting Dan’s daydream. He picked up his bag and walked off to English. Up the stairs, in room 311, Erik was waiting. The English room was set up like a forum and doubled as the philosophy room. They chose their own seats in the beginning of that year. Erik and Dan naturally sat together. Dan sat one row above Erik. That day, Dan walked the ten steps to the main floor, then back up another aisle to his seat. Erik turned around and said hello. Dan rumpled his hair. He looked around the room. There was a guy from the baseball team, Josh, watching. Dan returned his stare nonchalantly. Josh shook his head, but he was smiling. The thing about Highland was that is was way more artistically inclined then Maple. He never felt discriminated against. It was like one huge family. Not that everyone declared friendship without everyone else, but if Dan needed help, he felt that his chances of having someone try to help were much greater. It was a vibe he got. Dan hoped he’d never have to test it out.

Erik asked him a question just as class began.

"Okay, class…" their teacher waltzed in. She had that effect, "Who read over the weekend? No one? Well, okay then, no quiz today… but expect one tomorrow!"

"Want to stay over and study tonight?" Erik whispered at Dan.

Dan was staring at him affectionately. The dark head before him turned slowly around. Erik wasn’t sure if he’d heard him. Dan’s eyes met his with the languid sweetness of the Bedroom Eyes. Erik’s eyes got wider.

"What?" he said.

"I just love you," Dan said.

He leaned forward, only a little, to softly brush his lips against Erik’s forehead. Erik laughed and turned around hurriedly. He hid in his hair. Dan took notes… and drew Erik…

Dan had been taken to the hospital for the injury to his chest. He floated in and out of reality. There were colours and smells he remembered, but not many as he had lost a lot of blood. When finally he woke up and was lucid, he was in a room with long curtains hanging to the floor. Dan tried to move for water but the staples in his chest tore at his skin when he did. A small sound leapt from his mouth.

"Are you alright?"

Turning to his left Dan saw the silhouette of another patient through the curtain.

"Yes," Dan whispered with an intensely dry mouth.

"One second," the voice said.

A moment later the curtain moved aside and a dark haired boy walked through. He was very pale with bright blue eyes. His hair was long, covering one eye. He was dressed in street clothes. One of his sleeves was pulled up and there was a bandage where an IV had been recently.

"I’m Erik," he smiled.

"Dan Setton," he replied.

"Hello, Dan," Erik said, "would you like some water…?"

That night, Erik and Dan stayed over at Erik’s house. They studied after a lengthy, intimate evening. Erik was lying on his bed and Dan was sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers that he was organizing. Dan had nearly finished when he heard Erik moan a little bit from behind him. He looked back and saw Erik slide off of his bed to the floor, sitting against the wall. Erik curled his knees to his chest. He bit his lip against the pain in his head. He was holding it tightly.

"Erik?"

"…fuck…"

"What can I do?" Dan crouched next to him.

"…it hurts…"

"Okay," Dan went to the bathroom, looking for anything pain-related. He found a bottle of morphine. He ran back to Erik. Erik looked at the bottle, produced a syringe and a tourniquet, and pumped himself full of it. Soon the pain was relieved. Erik relaxed. Dan untied the tourniquet and pulled Erik up on the bed. He put their books away, turned out the light and went to sleep beside Erik. Dan did not sleep well. He was too worried. But the morning proved that it was nothing to worry about. Erik was fine. And, unfortunately, Dan was used to strange things like that happening. Erik was, after all, heavily medicated. Heavily.

Privately, Erik knew he was not alright. He said nothing. Not yet. He was hopeful. Maybe too hopeful. He’d give it another month.