Even Better

Even Better

Summary: Seventeen, single, and weirder than pretty much all of the general population, gay boy Lucas is at a loss to finding any luck in his life at all. After bad thing after bad thing happens to him, he’s come to the point of fighting off his inner demons and attempting to go with the flow. It’s hard when the only things that happen to you are unlucky. Is his luck finally changing when he meets a young new transfer student from France? Who also happens to like men?

Chapter One - Color Me Something Other Than That of the Sky

My loud curse echoed through the empty apartment, followed by a few damnations to various objects. I hopped from my front door to the kitchen counter, setting down the grocery bags and surveying my throbbing toe. I’d kicked off my shoes as I entered the house as usual, and of course, with my uncanny ability to run into things, had tripped on first the doorjamb and then the coffee table. I sighed and pouted out my lips slightly. No damage, it seemed. Just pain.

I sighed and brought myself to a fully standing position again, reaching over and clicking on the kitchen light. I started unpacking the plastic bags from the small amount of food I’d bought, putting things away. Granola, mangos, pad thai, grape juice, eggs, white rice, and various meats, veggies, and seafood. I grabbed some of my cheddar crackers from last week and shuffled to the small living room of my flat, clicking on a lamp and settling onto the couch dejectedly. I opened the box and tossed a cracker into the air, catching it with my mouth. I entertained myself this way for several minutes before it grew dull, then reached over backwards behind me to snatch the remote. I aimed it at the TV and made a few gunshot sound effects, turning it on in the process and flipping through channels. I finally settled for Foster’s, curling up on my couch and munching on the crackers.

Another long, not fun day for me. After waking up late and being unable to take a shower, making me feel nasty all day, I’d had to sit through classes in a school that I did not fit in at, with a lack of friends, or acquaintances for that matter. I was a fly on the wall, I was not in existence to anyone at the school—I kept silent and to myself, appearing shy. Though I’m not. Just get the impression I’m unwanted.

I’d gone to the dojo and did some sparring for about an hour, then went home and showered. Gone grocery shopping. Which had somehow taken me three hours as I’d been unable to find my keys for half an hour, then I’d gone and got all that I wanted but I’d forgotten my wallet. Came back and bought it all, then my car had had problems starting once I got to the parking lot. I’d spent a half hour trying to get it to work, finally getting a jump start from some nice person. I’d gotten home then, and managed to injure myself.

Not the luckiest life in existence, mine. My extreme clumsiness did not help at all.

My name is Lucas Bold. I live by myself and attend a high school for my final year. It started a week ago.

It already seems like it’s been a long time.

This year will be long.

“Bold!”

I yelped something about ‘That’s my slice!’ and sprang up, smacking my knees painfully on the bottom of my desk. The class sniggered and I sat back down, blushing with embarrassment. “Yes, Mr. Keeling?”

“Is my class so boring that you manage to fall asleep in the middle of it?” He raised an eyebrow and I ducked my head, apologizing. He ‘hmph’ed but his attention left from me, returning to what he’d been doing—writing something on the board. He asked random questions around the room, never landing on me as usual. I started doodling odd pictures on my binder with my pencil. I suddenly heard the door open and looked up, viewing he who was entering.

He was tall and lean, sun-tanned skin matching with brunette hair, straight and long. My eyes widened and a sudden heat hit my face. I dropped my gaze instantly as soon as chocolate brown eyes found mine staring at him. I almost thought I noticed a smirk but when I looked back up it was gone.

“Hello,” he said, his voice was low and smooth, like dark chocolate to match his appearances. I wondered if he tasted like chocolate too…AAAH SNAP OUT OF IT LUKE! I smacked myself on the face, earning a few odd looks from the students near me. “I’m Tristan Ashford, I’m the new exchange student.” I subconsciously licked my lips. His accent is delicious… “I would like to apologize for arriving late.”

“That’s fine,” Mr. Keeling said. “Go ahead and take that open seat in the back, behind Lucas.” He gestured to the seat just behind me and I felt my cheeks catch fire. He nodded and walked to the back. I looked up from beneath my black hair, sapphire eyes peering at him apprehensively. He grinned widely and winked at me, and my eyes widened a bit. A averted my gaze as he brushed past me, settling into the seat directly behind me. Oh gawd, innuendo.

I chewed on my lip, trying to focus on what Mr. Keeling was saying. I was finally starting to get back into the game when I felt a hand touch the back of my neck. I jumped and flipped my gaze around. Tristan was grinning at me, both hands settled on his desk. He lifted one and gave a small wave, smirking at me.

“C-Can I help you?” I stuttered quietly.

“Yes,” he said, smiling lightly. “I was wondering where we were in this book.” He indicated to the book sitting on his desk. I blinked, made an ‘oh’ with my mouth, and nodded, flipping back around to see the page we were on.

“Page 137,” I replied. He smiled silkily and thanked me. I blushed deeply and just spun back around, hearing his low chuckle as I refocused on the lesson.

As soon as the bell rang for lunch I zoomed out of the classroom and down the hall, using my crowd-dodging skills to the best of their ability. I managed to trip a few times anyway, though.

I made it into the cafeteria and slipped unnoticeably into the line, not having to wait long to grab my piece of pizza and a tea. I paid and surveyed the cafeteria, spotting an empty table in the back corner. I made a bee-line for it and sighed, settling down into the uncomfortable chairs with a slight sigh. No one ever came and sat by me unless they had to, and that was rare, especially by senior year. Most of the seniors just went out for lunch.

After a few moments and one bite of pizza later, a shadow blocked my view. I blinked and looked up, spotting a very tall figure smiling down at me.

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked, his beautiful accent sending a shiver down my spine.

“U-Um, s-sure,” I replied, indicating to the chair with a hand. He sat down across from me.

“I’m Tristan,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Luke,” I said, shaking his hand and managing not to stutter. I reluctantly pulled my hand back from the warmth of his, taking another bite of my pizza. “What part of France are you from?”

“A small fishing town called Jonville,” he replied, and I just about died at the way he pronounced it. I nodded once, as if I knew where the place was, and started having a staring contest with my pizza.

“Did you grow up here?” he asked suddenly, and I snapped my head up so fast I almost broke my neck. No seriously. I almost did.

“Uhm, yeah, for the most part,” I said, fighting off the stutter successfully. “I was born in New Mexico but we moved here.” I shrugged a bit and glanced off to the side again, blushing. I mean, it’s not every day that a hot transfer student from France takes an interest in you and you eat lunch together and he actually asks stuff about you. Unless your life is freakish and that does happen to you everyday.

The rest of my pizza disappeared in awkward silence. Well, awkward for me. He had this sort of philosophical look on his face, staring off into space and seeming to be thinking. I had an urge to wave my hand in his face but held it off. No need to do something stupid, Luke. That would be totally not intelligent.

Like totally.

Dude.

“So I was wondering,” he suddenly stated, scaring me and causing me to almost snort the tea I’d been drinking out my nose. He gave me a raised eyebrow look but didn’t say anything about it, continuing on what he’d been saying. “Would you show me around the school before the bell rings?”

I opened my mouth and sat there dully for a moment. “O-Oh! Yeah, I-I’ll do that.” I nodded and ducked my head, hearing him chuckle.

“You’re cute,” I heard him mumble, and brought my quizzical gaze up. “Huh?”

He smiled and leaned in, one finger beneath my chin, lifting my face a bit. “I said that you’re cute,” he said with a chuckle. I felt my entire face catch fire. And my ears too.

“I-I-I…I d-don—I…Wha…Huh?”

He leaned back and released his hold on my chin, laughing. He didn’t make any reply though, instead standing and tossing his plate in the trash. “Are you ready to give me that tour?” His long, brown hair, I noticed, hung all the way to his low back. He flipped it out of the way, and I caught a whiff of his scent. I almost melted on the spot. He smelled like a fucking coffee shop. And chocolate. Exactly what I’d pictured.

So, am I hallucinating this scent?
Wait, that doesn’t make sense.

I slapped myself in the face again, but he didn’t notice, back turned and walking away from me towards the doors. I did a double take at his rear, stared for a moment, then snapped back into reality when he called my name over his shoulder, asking if I was coming. I yelped and walked quickly to catch up.

He smirked and I averted my gaze from anything…near him in any way. I gestured to random places in the school, naming them off. “That’s the women’s bathroom, that’s the janitor’s closet…” OHGAWDINNUENDOS! “There’s the library…There’s a lot of shelves in there…” Oh, THAT was the intelligent statement of the fucking CENTURY. “Those are all the science classrooms. Avoid the chemistry ones if you’re down here during class…” Because things sometimes explode. “Music rooms…art rooms…mathematics building…main office…the floor…”

We finally came back to our starting point in front of the cafeteria doors. “Thank you,” he said. “Hey, would you mind showing my the grounds? We have twenty minutes still.”

He knows the schedule better than I do.

“Sure,” I replied, and led him out. We walked around the school, to the tennis courts, parking lots, dumpsters…empty sheds with doors that lock…DAMMIT LUKE!

“Well, the bell is about to ring, so I gotta get going,” he said. I nodded, then it processed what he said.

“Oh…okay,” I said. I had free block next hour. “Uhm…bye then.”

He smiled and nodded, thanked me for the tour, and disappeared back inside the school.

I shuffled inside the house dejectedly, kicking off my shoes and dropping my school bag unceremoniously onto the wood floor with a dull thunk. I dragged myself to the bathroom, shedding myself of clothes and stepping into the shower. I realized after a moment that it wasn’t on and managed to get myself then soaked with freezing cold water. I yelped and jumped out, waiting until it was hot until I reentered. I sighed and stood under the now too-hot water, though I ignored it in favor of dropping my face against the tile wall. I repeatedly did this, making a ‘thunk thunk thunk thunk’ sound until the neighbor finally pounded on the wall and told me to stop the sound or he’d come over here and beat me with a cane.

Can it be a candy cane?

Then I’ll be all sticky. And Tristan can come and—OKAYLUKEENOUGH. I flipped on the cold water and yelped as it hit me. I quickly turned it back, shivering a little. I quickly washed my hair and then escaped the shower, changing into a pair of black shorts and a black wifebeater like shirt.

I slid into my shoes on the way out the door, my gear bag slung over my shoulder. A chewed on my lip as I jogged down the two stories to ground level. I made it down the few blocks to the dojo I attended, and worked at.

“Yo, Luke!” I waved at the man who had greeted, a tall man in his mid thirties who owned the place. He was a bit of a body builder, and, in my opinion, extremely dangerous. “Hello Sensei,” I replied. I took off my shoes and put my gearbag down.

“You don’t work today, do you?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I just wanted to get some work out in.”

He nodded. “Understandable. I’ll be around if you need anything.” I thanked him and nodded. I walked to the back and reached into my gearbag, pulling out a pair of gloves and starting to pound away at the punching bag swinging lazily in front of me.

Take THAT! And THAT! I can’t decide who I’m attacking! AND THAT!

After a good half hour of just boxing with the punching bag, I sighed and stopped, dropping my arms and laying my head on the bag dully. After another five minutes of this and a few odd looks, I packed my stuff up and took off after a quick rinse off.

I changed into my comfy PJ’s and zonked.

My first class of the day is art, though it’s not really my forte. But it’s worth it. Because Tristan is in it. And he sits next to me this time.

Insert giant almost creepy grin here.

“Aaaand hello again class!” I’d just gotten in before the bell, so I hadn’t had any time to chat before Mr. Browns stepped into the classroom dramatically with the big booming voice. Apparently, he used to be some really good actor…Which makes me wonder as to why he’s teaching art.

Tired and dull hellos echoed throughout the classroom, unmotivated. I didn’t even bother saying anything, craving some form of caffeine.

He gave us all a withering look, mostly gone ignored. “Anyway, today’s a free day. Draw, paint, sit around and look stupid, whatever.” He shrugged and walked over to his desk as chatter broke out among students.

“Hello.” I turned towards the smooth voice, blushing.

“Hey, Tristan,” I replied shyly. His mouth quirked up in a half smile, amused.

“I was wondering something,” he said, and a raised an eyebrow as for him to go on. “Well uh…I was wondering if you might want to be my model?”

“I-I…Me?”

He chuckled that sexy chuckle of his. “Yes, you.”

I attempted speech a few times, failed, and nodded.

“Okay…Just…Do whatever. You look cute no matter what you do.” I felt my ears turn hot, and I glanced down. “Oh, stay that way!” I looked up at him but didn’t move.

“You’re hot,” he said randomly, and I started burning up. “What?!”

“You keep blushing. Which is good,” he said as he sketched out an outline on the canvas. He then started painting. “So I keep saying things to make you blush.” He grinned widely at me and, if possible, I turned more red.

“So I’m curious…” he said, glancing at me as he painted, “What kind of food do you like?”

“Ahm…I like Japanese…” I said, trailing off.

“Mm. What kind of movies?”

“Black and white.”

I glanced over at him as he chuckled softly. “That’s odd. Me too.” He laughed. “Most people don’t like old black and white stuff.”

I didn’t say anything, just watched him as he painted me. “Have you ever seen the old Twilight Zones?” I asked suddenly. He glanced over at me, smiling lightly. “I do,” he replied. “They’re great.”

I nod a bit, watching him.

“So would you like dinner and a movie this weekend?”

“Wh-What?”

“I’m quite positive I spoke in English, not French,” he replied with a chuckle.

“O-Oh. Sure.” I smiled at him and he grinned back.

“I’ll get you at six on Saturday. Sound good?” I sort of half nod, a little shocked. “I’ll need your address,” he says. I make a dumbfounded expression for a moment then spring into action, reaching into my bag and pulling out a sticky note, scribbling down the address. I handed it to him just before the bell rang. He grinned and put it into his pocket.

I’m a wocket in your pocket.

So what exactly is a wocket?

‘Cause I’m genuinely curious.

I digress.

A soft sigh escaped my lips as I opened the blinds, the dim light from the rainy day coming in through the window to my living room. The week had passed as slowly as it bloody possibly could, irking me. It was Friday evening, at six o’clock, and I wished it to be a day later.

I settled onto my couch, cozy in my warm PJ’s, Foster’s on the TV, but I felt that mental block sneaking up on me. The one where the past came back into my head full-force when I fell asleep. I usually woke up sobbing, my head ringing from my nightmares.

I shook my head and focused on the amusing show on the TV.

So, incidentally, I fell asleep.

Screaming in the front seat, back and forth back and forth. I hate you this go die in Hell that. It’s like a pendulum. A pendulum that’s slowly lowering. Like the pendulum in that Edgar Allen Poe story.

“Well you can take that and shove it up your--!”

They don’t know I’m here anymore. All they do is fight.

The lights I see just before my head is snapped forward, smacking onto something and then the black.

It’s dark and silent when I awaken. It’s probably only been a few seconds. It feels like years. “Mom?” My voice is small and scared. I feel weak. “Dad?” I’m already twelve, you think I’d be a little tougher by now.

I’m only twelve.

I crawl over the glass. Everything is sideways. Dad isn’t moving. Mom isn’t moving.

Why am I moving?

What is that sound?
Why does my throat hurt?

Oh…I’m screaming.

-

“I don’t want that boy. How are we going to take care of him?”

They seem so huge, looming and scary. They’re talking in the other room and think that because I’m young I can’t hear.

“Well there’s no where else he can even go, so he’s got to go with you.”

“Fine.”

-

“GET THE HELL OUT!”

You honestly think I’d have had enough yelling in my life already. My adolescence was filled with the screaming of my parents. My early teen years by the yelling of these distant relatives of mine. Maybe I should have been more careful…Made sure it was impossible for them to notice.

But it’s hard not to notice that someone’s gay when they catch him kissing another guy.

Something hard hits my brow and I don’t even flinch, my head just turns to the side with the impact. I feel blood trickle down my face.

“NEVER COME BACK HERE AGAIN!”

Don’t worry, I won’t.

-

‘I know that I can help you but I just don’t fucking want to.’

The lyrics pound in my eardrums as I punch at the bag, swinging kicks and letting free my stress and anger.

‘And the feeling is stronger by the day, say that I'm selfish.’

“Good, good! Your attacks are getting better.”

I don’t reply, just attack harder.

‘But I know you need this and I'm just so sick of the chase.’

Punch punch elbow uppercut left hook thai kick, right hook.

‘While you are letting your guard down

I will be letting myself go

While you keep running your ship aground

I will be setting myself alight

Too late, you dropped the drawbridge

You let the vampires in

You caused this shit to happen, and now you want out?’

Oh…I’m screaming.

I wake up with tear-filled eyes, gasping and clutching at my sheets.

It happened.

It always happens.

The song is The Tempest by Pendulum. AWESOMESONGGOLISTENRYTENAOW.

It’s been a loooooong time since my last update. I hope you like this…I’ve got character sheets and tons of drawings.

Maybe I’ll post that picture of Tristan later. It makes you wish he was real.

Reviews are really nice…