Okay. While some of the story is based on my experiences and experiences of people I know, it is, for the most part, fictional.

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the disclaimer. That's right, the disclaimer. Since this is an adult-oriented story, the American apple pie institution known as parental discretion will not be able to cleanse any sense of innuendo or sarcasm from the words that might actually make you think.

So protect your family. This story contains explicit depictions of things which are real. These real things are commonly known as life. So, if it sounds sarcastic, don't take it seriously. If it sounds dangerous, do not try this at home -- or at all. And if it offends you, just don't read it.

Damn hippie.


What Are The Odds?


"Wake up, sunshine!"

"Holy Jesus!" I yelped, jerking upward in my bed as the loud voice screeched directly in my ear. I grasped my chest, panting, waiting for my heartbeat to start again.

A sweetly smiling girl clad in flannel pajamas standing next to my bed was trying hard not laugh at me. My fraternal twin sister, Violet. Her gray eyes shined with laughter and her mouth twitched up at the corners.

"Good morning!" she chirped, before bouncing out my door. As she closed it behind her I heard her burst into hysterical laughter.

It took me a moment to realize where the hell I was. I was still getting used to my surroundings, and every day for the last week I'd been confused first thing in the morning.

I stared sleepily around the room. Why was I awake? What reason did Violet have to screech in my ear? Oh well. I laid back down and started to drift back to sleep.

"Reeve? Didn't I just wake you up?" asked a female voice, this time much softer. I cracked one eye open and saw my sister looking down at me, this time fully dressed.

"What time is it?" I croaked.

"Seven forty-five."

I groaned. "God, why..."

"We have to go to school, babe. Come on."

I frowned. School? What the hell? Then I remembered. Ah yes. School. Damn. Violet and I hadn't been to school in a week and a half, not since we'd left California for this... hellhole. My fraternal twin sister and I used to live with our dad, until he went to prison. Then we moved in with our mom until she decided she couldn't take us anymore, and we were shipped back and forth between distant relatives and family friends, until all of them found us too 'rambunctious' to live with. We had some fucked up living situations after that, but eventually we were shipped off to the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere, to live with our crazy aunt Gracie.

Gracie wasn't really so bad. More like a flower-child gone wrong. She was all into karma and 'chakras' and all that new age junk. She was certainly more pleasant than either of our parents. We'd only been there for a week, though, so maybe we were still in the honeymoon period.

I groaned and forced myself to sit up. I wrapped my arms around my sister and buried my face in her shirt, and she hugged me back and waited patiently for my senses to return to me. 'Not a morning person' doesn't even begin to cover me.

Eventually, I stood up, nearly tripping over my own big feet. I stood next to Violet, waiting for the sleep to clear out of my eyes. I looked down on my sister's head. I towered ten inches over her. It really wouldn't be such a weird thing -- if she wasn't six feet tall. That's right, I was six foot ten.

We come from a family of very tall people. It's not so bad, except when I have to buy clothes. And sometimes I hit my head on the top of the doorframe.

In elementary school, I was the skinny little kid, all knees and elbows, always the tallest in my class. When I got to junior high, I was still like a stick, but I was uncoordinated, my balance thrown off by hands and feet too large for my still-growing frame. By the time high school came, I'd finally grown into my height. I looked pretty normal -- if you didn't count the fact that I was about a foot taller than most men. I wasn't a big guy -- I mean, I was really tall, but not big. Not particularly muscular, not skinny, just sort of average.

Violet looked like a female version of me. She was my twin, after all. She was the one of the tallest females I'd ever encountered. She had long dark brown hair and gray eyes that always had a look of mischief about them. She seemed to attract a whole lot of male attention, good and bad. She was gorgeous, but everyone assumed she was older than her 17 years, and older men were always hitting on her. I'd had to protect her from assholes more than once.

Funny thing was, the guys she ended up going out with were always much shorter than her. Well, it wasn't that funny, but it still entertains me to no end. Small things amuse small minds, I guess.

"Dammit Reeve! Come on. As much as I love your morning breath and all, I think I'm being suffocated. We need to get to school on time. Don't want to make a bad impression," she teased, knowing I would do so anyway. Teachers and authority figures always seem to think I'm going to cause trouble, just because I'm big and I dress kind of oddly sometimes. Hey, when department store pants barely cover your knees, you need to take what you can get.

Violet flounced out of my room, yelling at me to hurry up. I groaned, shuffling my way out the door, my head just barely missing the top of the doorframe. I trudged up the stairs -- my room was in the basement -- and into the kitchen. After staring at the health food in the cupboard and fridge for a few minutes, I decided against breakfast and showered instead.

After going through the normal morning routine on autopilot, pulling on a pair of baggy black cargo pants and a black Judas Priest T-shirt, trying to do something with my messy dyed-red hair -- it was too long to be called 'short' but too short to be called 'long', so it was just kind of shaggy and messy -- and miserably failing, and making sure I had enough cigarettes to last me through the school day, Violet and I were on our way to school.

We took the station wagon. It was an ugly puke-green colored thing with wood paneling. It only started half the time, and I'm fairly sure it never would have passed a smog test. Our aunt Gracie had sort of donated it to us; she didn't really need it.

Violet stole a cigarette from me on the car ride to school. She only smoked when she was agitated or nervous. I chain-smoked the whole way there, for fifteen minutes, jiggling my feet nervously, gulping a Coke I'd managed to salvage from the wreckage of health food known as Gracie's kitchen.

School normally wouldn't have been such a big thing. I didn't really mind it that much, actually. Normally. But here? We were in the middle of white- bread city, here. Everyone I'd seen looked pretty conservative. It was nothing like home. So far, I hadn't seen a single black or Mexican person.

My sister is the most flirtatious girl I've ever met, which wouldn't be a problem if she were straight. She's bisexual, and she makes sure everyone knows it. I had a feeling it wouldn't go over quite as well in this shithole as it had in California.

I'm gay. I'm not as open as my sister, as in I don't hit on everything that moves, but I do tell people I'm gay if it comes up. It wasn't a big deal back home, no one really cared. My sexuality had never once been made fun of to my face unless it was by a friend who was joking. I was slightly worried about this new state, new school, new environment. But I figured, how much different could it be?

.... damn was I stupid.

"... Reeve? Damn it Reeve, wake up!"

"Huh?" I snapped out of my little daze.

"We're there, babe. Come on." My sister reached over to take the Coke from between my knees.

"Dude! Keep your hands away from my balls!" I yelled out, laughing. "Oh my god! You're so dirty! You incestuous whore!"

She laughed, smacking me on the shoulder. "Hey, incest is best. Put your sister to the test. If you can't keep it in your pants, at least keep it in the family."

We both stepped out of the car, our nervousness eased a little by our joking. We were both loudmouthed, rude and dirty-minded, so we got along well.

I stared at the parking lot we were in. Students were milling around, heading toward the school buildings. I noticed a few people gawking at my sister and I, trying to be discreet but failing. It wasn't anything new. When you're a foot taller then everyone you get noticed. Besides, my sister was wearing something very short and very tight, made for someone much shorter than her, and I'll be the first to say my sister is beautiful.

I begrudgingly began walking toward the school buildings. I looked at the schedule that had been mailed to Gracie's house a few days before, and looked for the building where my first class was. Math. Ugh. After hugging my sister goodbye, we parted, I to my homeroom and she to hers.

I wandered for a little while, slightly lost. By the time I found the right classroom, the late bell had rung. Great. Just my luck. My first day and I'm late. Not only am I starting in the middle of the school year, I'm coming in the middle of the class period. Oh yeah, this teacher'll love me.

As I opened the door cautiously, everyone in the class paused to look at me, the ancient teacher stopped in the middle of her sentence.

"Can I help you?" she asked stiffly.

"Uh, I'm Reeve Ericson?" I half asked, half told her.

The old woman blinked. "And?"

"And uh, I'm new here?" I was still hanging back just outside the doorway. The gray-haired woman, who looked to be well past retiring age, narrowed her wrinkled eyes at me for a moment.

"You're a student here?" she asked me suspiciously.

No, I'm just here to stock the soda machines.

"Yeah. I'm just starting today. Um, my schedule says this is my first period class."

"Let me see," she snapped, holding out a wrinkled hand.

I ducked a little to go under the top of the doorway, and put the wrinkled green paper in her gnarled old hand. She looked at it critically, glanced back up at me, and then studied the paper for another few seconds.

"Everything okay?" I asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. She was beginning to irritate me. I mean, I knew I looked older than seventeen, but Jesus, why was she throwing such a fit? It's not like I was the first overly mature high schooler in the world.

"We'll see," she said sourly. She picked up the phone on her desk and phoned the office. She argued with them for a few minutes, telling them that she already had thirty-two students and asking if they could move me to another class. Eventually, she hung up and regarded me again.

"Take an empty seat," she said coldly, looking at me like it was somehow my fault they put me in her class. I took the green schedule from her outstretched hand and shuffled toward the back of the class. I slid into a seat, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, which is not easy when you're nearly seven feet tall. People kept turning to look at me, trying to be discreet, as the old woman at the front of the room rambled on about sine and cosine or something.

People all around me were whispering. I could hear a few guys behind me talking about me. Me, being the nosy bastard that I am, concentrated on their voices rather than the old crone's.

"He's huge. How tall you think he is?"

"I dunno. Do you think he really goes here? He doesn't look like he belongs in high school."

"Maybe he's a terrorist posing as a high school student so he can blow up the school or something."

"I dunno, but I bet I could kick his ass."

"Shut up, Mark. He's twice your size."

"Yeah, but I bet he's a pussy. Didn't you see that shirt he was wearing?"

I rolled my eyes. Why were the little people always trying to pick fights with me? It was always the short guys who talked smack about me. I guess they wanted to prove how tough they were or something. When it came down to it though, all that it was most of the time was talk.

I sat through class bored out of my mind, folding and unfolding my legs, trying to find enough legroom, which I failed to do. I already knew everything the teacher was talking about, and I finished the worksheet she handed out in about five minutes. When the bell rang, I nearly jumped for joy -- until I realized I had history next.

After wandering through the halls, I was late to history class as well. The teacher, however, didn't really care. He directed me to a seat in the back and went on talking.

I don't understand why I should care about European socialism. I'm not a socialist, and I don't ever plan to go to Europe, so I don't really care if their socialists over there. But whatever.

Break-time came, and I was ecstatic, until I realized I had no idea where my sister was. I looked around for her in the hallways, trying to see through the sea of people. No luck. Instead, I found my way outside and looked for a good place to smoke. I leaned up against a tree behind the main school building and lit up a cigarette. A few people in a small group stared at me like they'd never seen a smoker before. I stared back with raised eyebrows, and they hurriedly looked away, suddenly very interested in something to the left.

The bell rang again. That had been the shortest break of my life. Not nearly enough time for me to get over the trauma of two periods of school.

I momentarily considered skipping the rest of my classes and leaving, but I figured it wouldn't make a very good impression on these school people. I didn't exactly have the greatest school record, and I was hoping to make sort of a new start in this hellhole of a town. These people didn't know me yet, so they didn't have anything to hold against me. Yet.

I drifted through English, bored nearly to tears. I found it hard to believe that half the seniors in that school didn't know what an adverb was. So very, very sad. Toward the end of the class, I fell asleep. I tried not to, but I couldn't help it. I had to slide waaaaaaaay down under my desk for my head to be able to reach the table, though, and my feet were well into the isle. When class was finally over, I was startled awake by the bell, and I schlepped through the hallways, my head drooping as I fought the urge to sleep.

I made my way to biology, dragging my feet the whole way. Stupid people were all around me, crowding me, trying to shove their way through all the people. Finally I reached the classroom, and the smell of formaldehyde overwhelmed me, so I stayed outside the room for a moment.

Suddenly, someone behind me fell into me, causing me to trip over my own big feet. I slammed my forehead in to the top of the doorframe, causing me to see little tiny flashes of white light around the edges of my line of vision. I fell backward, seemingly in slow motion, and hit my ass on the cold, hard linoleum. I was too dizzy to sit up, and fell further backward, cracking my head on the ground.

"Oh... not good..." I muttered, staring up at the blurry faces that now crowded me. "Ugh... dude... fuck..." I managed to get out before I slipped into blackness.

I suppose I was only out for a few seconds, because when I came to, the same people were still staring down at me. I groaned in pain. The people weren't even talking directly to me, only about me.

The crowd seemed to part, and a large hand came into my line of vision. I followed the hand up the arm to a shoulder, up to a face. It was blurry, but I could see short dirty-blond hair and bright blue eyes. As soon as the other people surrounding me saw that I was pretty much still alive and breathing, they headed toward their classrooms. As my vision cleared some, and my normal thought process returned, I heard the person the hand was attached to saying,

"Come on, I'll help you up."

His voice was low, and surprisingly soft. I stared at him for a moment before I realized what I was doing.

"Oh yeah," I muttered to myself. I reached up to grab his hand, and he helped haul me upward. I closed my eyes tightly, suddenly dizzy. It faded after a moment, and I opened them again, expecting to look down to see the guy who'd helped me up. But to my incredible surprise, I actually had to look up!

"Whoa," I said, amazed, without thinking. He was at least three or four inches taller than me.

He cracked a slight smile. "Yeah, that's what a lot of people say."

"Oh, uh..." I trailed off. I realized how rude that must have sounded, but damn! He was one of the only people I'd ever met taller than me. "Sorry, dude. It's just..." I was getting flustered.

"You don't usually have to look upward to see people's faces?" he offered with a smile.

I laughed. "Yeah, dude. Wow. That's certainly different." I was tempted to ask how tall he was, but I knew that I got annoyed with the way people constantly asked me the same question.

For the first few moments, I was just amazed at his height, but now that I took the time to look at him, I noticed how handsome he was. Bright eyes, nice smile, sort of a Hollywood-movie-star face, the kind that makes you wonder if it's real.

"So how's your head?" he asked.

"Huh?" I was caught off-guard for a second, but then rebounded quickly. "Oh, yeah, it's okay. Better than a poke in the eye with a stick, anyway."

"I've done that a few times," he said. "Walked into a door, I mean, not gotten poked in the eye with a stick."

I grinned. I couldn't help it. He was smiling, and the look on his face made me happy in some odd way. "Well I would hope not," I said.

He smiled. "My name's Adam."

"Reeve," I returned, giving him a nod. I don't what know what for. A nod of recognition, a nod of greeting, I don't know. But a nod all the same. I felt stupid for a moment, like maybe I should have offered him a handshake or something, but almost no one my age does that where I'm from. Then I felt stupid for feeling stupid. I usually wasn't so self-conscious -- in fact, I usually wasn't self-conscious at all. I was a loudmouthed dork and I knew it. Hey, I even liked it. Self-consciousness wasn't usually anywhere near me.

"You're new here, aren't you." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah. Am I that obvious?"

Adam laughed. "Yeah, actually. You don't seem like you're from around here, and besides, if you went to this school I would have seen you."

I knew he meant he would have noticed me because of my height, but it made my face warm all the same.

The late bell rang. Lovely. Interrupt my little moment, why don't you.

Adam opened the door I was supposed to be going in. He walked in before me, then held the door for me. Wow, he was in my class. Thank god I'd have someone to talk to who wouldn't bug me about my height.

I ended up in the back, where I liked it. I don't like it when people are behind me, I always feel like they're staring at me or talking about me. And a lot of the time I'm right.

Adam was toward the front, seated just enough to one side of the classroom so that I could see his face, but he'd have to turn to see me looking at him. Perfect. I tried to pay attention to what the loopy professor was talking about, but my gaze kept drifting back to Adam. His legs were folded uncomfortably under his desk, and he kept shifting them around, folding and unfolding, trying to find a more comfortable space for them. I wondered if I looked like that when I was sitting in class.

I liked the way he bit his lip in concentration when he was writing. When the teacher asked him a question he didn't quite understand, he had this adorably confused look on his face, and when he found the answer, he gave a brilliant smile. I couldn't stop staring.

I tried to convince myself I was just fascinated because I'd found someone taller than myself in high school, but I knew that I was attracted to him. Then I wondered if maybe that was why I was attracted to him -- because we had something so unusual in common. But no, even if he was five feet tall, he'd still be hot. And so far in this school, this state for that matter, he was the only person to make an effort to be nice, even if he only did it out of sympathy -- or pity.

Chemistry went by quicker than any of my other classes, it seemed, and I was almost pissed off when the lunch bell rang. I would have to get up and leave, no longer able to stare at Adam.

I was one of the last people out the door, and I made damn sure I ducked my head this time. When I got out into the hallways, though, I was greeted by Adam, which surprised the hell out of me.

"How's it going?" he said with a smile. "Your head doin' okay?"

I couldn't help grinning back. "Yeah, I think I'll live. I didn't have much brain left to damage."

We stood for a moment, sort of awkwardly. I wanted him to move first so it wouldn't seem like I wanted to get away from him, but on the other hand I didn't want him to move at all, because I still wanted to look at him and talk to him.

After what seemed like forever, he finally made a move to walk down the hall. I was disappointed, naturally, but then he turned to me and, motioning with his head, said,

"Come on, let's go eat."

My stomach jumped. A grin spread across my face, no matter how hard I tried to keep it away. He was going to think I was loopy if I kept grinning at him like that.

Adam walked slightly in front of me as we went down the hallway, and I stared at him the whole way. He was bigger than me -- not just taller, but bigger, more muscular, not as skinny. His shoulders were broader than mine, and he looked strong -- not bodybuilder strong, but like maybe he played football or lifted heavy stuff or something. He had great arms, just muscular enough to warrant showing off, but not freakishly big. He had a nice ass... no; he had an incredible ass. The kind you just want to grab and squeeze and hold on to for dear life. I followed impossibly long legs to huge feet. Damn. I thought my feet were big! At that moment, I wanted more than anything to find out if what they say about guys with big feet was true.

I didn't notice when we got outside, or when we reached the grass; I didn't even notice when he stopped walking; I just kept on, and bumped into his back.

"Whoops," I muttered. "Sorry."

Adam smiled at me, laughing slightly. He didn't say anything, just sat on the grass, spreading his legs out in front of him, and pulled a brown paper bag out of his backpack. I sat down next to him and stared out at the people.

"So did you just move here?" he asked me, pulling a sandwich out of his paper bag. His voice was so sexy; it sent shivers down my spine. It was so soft, deep but gentle.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I moved here with my sister Violet about a week ago from California."

"I've always wanted to go to California. You like it there?"

"Yeah. I loved California, dude. Well, for the most part. It had its bad qualities."

"Like what?"

"Smog, for one. It's like a miracle when you can see ten feet in front of you. Gangs were pretty bad where I lived, too. Trying to find clothes that aren't gang related is so hard you almost want to say 'fuck it' and just walk around naked."

Adam laughed at me. The sound of his laughter made me smile. It made me happy to know I could make him laugh. I still couldn't stop staring at him, no matter how hard I tried. He just stared out at the schoolyard, though. We talked about California, about my old neighborhood, about my sister and about his brother. I made him laugh a few more times, and his laughter triggered mine.

Eventually there was a slight pause in the conversation, where I'd forgotten to speak, too caught up in staring at Adam's profile, wondering if his lips were as soft as they looked.

I nearly had a heart attack when he looked at me. He didn't say anything; his smile didn't even falter.

"What?" he asked softly, still smiling.

Oh god, he was so close to my face. It would be so easy to just lean over and kiss him.... Shit, I had to move. I was immediately blushing as I looked back at the schoolyard. "Nothing," I said, trying to laugh it off. I nervously reached into my pocket, trying all the while not to look nervous, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I put one to my lips and lit it, trying not to let my hand shake.

I was so embarrassed. He'd caught me staring at him, which was embarrassing enough, but to add to my anxiety, I had no idea how he'd react if he knew I was gay, much less had sort of a crush on him.

Thankfully, though, he didn't say anything. Nothing at all. I was half relieved, half disappointed. I suppose part of me wanted to just get everything out in the open, but I couldn't bring myself to say it without being asked. If I told him I was gay now, then it wouldn't matter quite so much if he freaked out on me. But if we got to be good friends, I told him, and it freaked him out, it would hurt a lot more.

"You gonna eat anything?" Adam asked.

"Huh? Oh, uh, no. I didn't bring any money or food or anything." I knew there was something I'd forgotten.

Adam shrugged, then ripped his sandwich in half. He handed me one half of it without even really looking at me. "Here."

I stared at the food in surprise for a moment, then took it from his large hand. I wasn't really hungry -- I was too nervous to eat -- but I thanked him and munched on it anyway, just because it was him that gave it to me. I gave Adam a strange look out of the corner of my eye, studying him. Half a sandwich couldn't possibly be enough of a lunch for someone his size, yet he'd given me half of his food without a second thought. He barely knew me, yet he treated me like a friend. Certainly a different experience.

As I tried to think of something to say that wouldn't make me sound like a complete idiot, the bell rang.

I groaned. "Oh Jesus, why..."

Adam chuckled as he stood, dusting off his pants. He offered me a hand up. I took it, noticing how big and soft and warm it was, not wanting to let go as I was pulled to my feet -- and I almost didn't. I held on just maybe two or three seconds longer than I should have, though I couldn't tell if Adam noticed or not. He seemed to be perpetually smiling, and if it wasn't so cute it would have irritated me. Then I noticed I was staring, even after I let go of his hand. Heat spread up my face and I averted my eyes.

"I'm just so fucking smooth today, aren't I," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing, dude. Just talking to myself."

We walked in relative silence back to the school building. We made a bit of small talk about nothing in particular, and I continued to stare at Adam like the dumbass I am. When we came to my next classroom, I knew we had to go separate ways, but I didn't want this to be the last I saw of Adam. I desperately wanted to see him again. So on impulse, I said, just as he was about to walk away,

"Are you busy after school?"

"No. You want to do something?"

"Sure, dude." I was exceedingly pleased, though I tried not to show it. I tried to seem cool about it all, but I'm not quite sure it was working.

"Alright, how about I meet you in front of the school after sixth period?" Adam asked.

I smiled goofily. "Yeah, alright. I'll see you then."

"Okay. See you later," he said, starting down the hallway.

As I entered the classroom, I was almost floating. Then, in the back, I saw my sister sitting at a table looking bored out of her mind. I almost jumped for joy. I had to tell someone about Adam.

"Vi!" I cried, jogging up to her.

Her head jerked up and she saw me. A grin spread over her face and she hugged me tightly as I sat next to her.

"Jesus Christ Reevie, where the hell you been? I looked for you at lunch!"

"I know, I looked for you too, but seriously Vi, I gotta tell you --"

"Ahem!" came an angry voice from the front of the room. A furious looking 40-something-year-old man with a reddened face and a receding hairline was glaring at my sister and I. "Do you mind? This is classroom, not a reunion! I'd like to get the students who care about their education started on today's lesson," he sneered.

As difficult as it was, I held back from saying anything, because I knew if I opened my mouth I would regret it.

The class started, the balding man yammering angrily at the front of the classroom, flinging his arms around and looking really pissed at everyone and everything.

For the first forty-five minutes, Violet looked like she was paying attention -- to the untrained eye. I knew that she was really about to fall asleep. She can actually sleep with her eyes open, a talent I envy. It would come in handy in boring classes like this. Economy and government. Bah. Like I care.

I rested my chin in my hands and tried to keep my drooping eyelids from closing. Then I saw something white out of the corner of my eye. A note. Violet slid it to me discreetly along with a pen.

What did you want to tell me? the note read.

I scribbled back an answer.

One word: Hot Guy!

I slid the paper back to my sister. She laughed slightly as she read it, then wrote something and passed it back to me.

That's two words, you ass.

Not in that sentence. When the words are used separately, they're two words. When "hot" is in conjunction with "guy," it's just one word. HotGuy. See?

My sister muffled a laugh with her hand as she read my writing, then passed it back.

Okay, that makes sense. But really, what about the hot guy?

He's fucking hot. And nice. And tall and blond and hot and... uh.... hot. Yeah. He's hot. Damn it, stop yelling at me! *Sob*

Violet snorted as she read my scribblings. She wrote something back, and as she went to pass it to me, we were interrupted by a loud throat-clearing from the front of the room.

"Did I not make it clear that this is a classroom, you two? This is not a time for idle chitchat! I will not have note passing, talking, or any other disruptions in my class, do you hear me?"

Violet frowned. "We already know this crap," she said, motioning to the blackboard. "We learned this months ago at our old school."

"Oh really," he growled. "Why don't the two of you go to page 342 in your book and tell me the answer to question number five."

"Uh, okay." Violet flipped through the pages and we stared at the question. I didn't know the answer, and neither did she, by the look on her face. I doubted the teacher even knew it. I was beginning to really hate this guy.

The teacher was smirking at the front of the classroom. "Go on," he said smugly. "Why don't you go ahead and 'wow' me."

"I'm only seventeen, sir," I said, "I believe that's illegal."

"Isn't that prohibited on school grounds?" Violet said, continuing my thought like the wonderful twin she is. "I wouldn't want to get suspended or anything."

"And though I can't speak for my sister, you're just not my type," I finished.

The balding man stared at the two if us, his eyes filled with a mixture of hate and rage, while the class all around us tried to muffle their giggles.

Thankfully, the bell rang, and Violet and I left the room as quickly as possible, laughing our way through the hallway. I, unfortunately, had to go to one end of the school, and violet went to another, but we agreed to meet out front after school, and I'd introduce her to said Hot Guy, Adam.

I had study hall next, which I slept through, as did the teacher. He snored like a chainsaw, while most of the students fooled around the whole time.

Last period, I found out I had office duty, I just had to sit in the school office and file papers, answer phones or take notes to teachers. It was the school's way of getting a salary-free secretary, I guess. I had a fairly uneventful sixth period, which I didn't mind at all. I'm a slacker; I enjoy sitting around and doing nothing.

Anyway, by the time the bell rang, I was nervous as all hell. In just a few minutes, I would meet Adam outside and we would... uh, I dunno. I didn't think about what we'd do. I didn't really care, though, as long as I got to hang out with him. I had the overwhelming urge to just be around him, talk to him, look at him.

I got to the front of the school building and spied my sister. We jogged toward each other and hugged.

"So, where's your loverboy, huh?" my sister asked, a glint in her eye.

"Oh, you know my lovers," I said with mock flippancy, "Always recovering from our wild monkey sex."

"What are you gonna do with him?"

I frowned. "Before you even go there, I'm pretty sure he's straight. But either way, I have no clue what we're gonna do. I mean, I'm pretty broke, and I don't know what there is to do for fun in this shit town..."

Violet shrugged, but then a mischievous grin spread over her face and she got this glint in her eyes that always means trouble. "Bring him home," she said slyly. "I'll... help you with him."

My eyes widened. What the hell did that mean? Probably not anything good. "Vi, I'm begging you here dude, don't fuck up things with me and him. I think we could end up good friends, and he doesn't need to know I have a huge fucking crush on him, alright?" I gave her a pleading look. "Please, Vi. I'll get over it eventually. He doesn't have to know."

She looked at me skeptically. I knew she didn't believe me. "Well, I'm still gonna --"

"Hey!" called a voice. I looked toward it. My stomach jumped. Adam. I couldn't help the smile that spread over my face.

"Daaaay-um," Violet muttered, looking in the same direction as me. "You don't fuck around, do you? That is one fine specimen of dude."

Adam jogged up to us, smiling that gorgeous smile of his. "Hey, what's up?" he greeted.

"Hey dude," I said. "Adam, this is my sister Violet. Violet, Adam."

"Holy Shnykeys!" she cried. "You're taller than my Reevie!" D'oh. She never did have any tact.

Adam chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so."

Violet threw one arm in the air and the other out behind her, mimicking Superman. Or maybe it was Batman. One of those superhero guys. "Quickly, Dorkman!" she cried. "To the shit-mobile!" She took off running toward our car, cackling like a maniac.

I laughed. "She's kind of weird," I said to Adam, following her.

He grinned. "Yeah, I gathered. She seems alright, though."

"Yeah, she's great. But to think, she's the older one... you never would have guessed."

"I thought you guys were twins."

"Yeah, we are. She's four and a half minutes older than me."

Adam laughed slightly. "So what do you feel like doing?"

I feel like pushing you up against the wall and kissing you like there's no tomorrow. "I guess we could go to my house. I don't have any money, so..."

"Yeah, that's cool."

The drive home was... different. My sister was being very strange the whole way there, which wasn't out of the ordinary, but I was so uncomfortable. Not in a bad way, exactly, but I couldn't stop looking at Adam, and I was terrified he would catch me. He was friendly with my sister, which scored him some major brownie points in my book. Not everyone likes my loudmouthed twin; most people think she's really odd.

When we got to my aunt's house, which was pretty hard to think of as 'home,' we saw our aunt Gracie doing yoga on the living room floor, listening to Enya.

The three of us managed to hurry down to my basement room before she noticed us and gave a 'spiritual' talk about our auras or something.

"Well, um, this is my room," I said to Adam, looking around. My walls were covered in band posters, my bed was unmade, and after only a week, my floor, bed, desk, chair, couch, dresser and even TV and radio were covered in crap. Clothes everywhere, half-full ashtrays, trash, weird little odds and ends that really had no place to go, stuff like that.

We lounged on the floor and on the couch, and talked about random crap, with my radio playing in the background. My sister was being weird, like always.

Every moment I spent with Adam made me like him more. I loved looking into his eyes, even for just a moment. His smile made me want to jump for joy, and his lips were so perfect, I wanted to taste them... Jesus, I had to stop this.

After a bit, while Adam was looking at one of my posters, Violet looked at me and mouthed, "go away for a minute."

"Why?" I mouthed back, frowning.

"Trust me," she mouthed with a grin. I didn't like that grin. But I did like she asked anyway.

"I'm gonna go get a soda," I announced. "You guys want anything?"

"Snag me a coke," Violet said.

"Sure, whatever you have is fine," Adam said with a smile that made me melt inside.

"Okay, I'll be back in a minute."

I jogged up the stairs quickly, snagged three sodas from the fridge and hurried back down to the basement as quickly and quietly as I could. I peered through the crack in the slightly opened door.

Violet was clearly flirting with Adam. I couldn't see him, but I could see her, smiling flirtatiously, batting her eyes, licking her lips, reaching out to touch him.

It hurt. I felt an actual pain inside, and an intense sinking, desperately sad feeling inside. I knew Violet would never try to go out with someone I liked. I knew what she was doing. She was trying to see if he was straight or not. But it hurt anyway. I couldn't see if he was responding to her or not, and the idea that he might start to crush on my sister made me want to cry.

I crept quietly back up the stairs, then made a big show of coming down them again so they would know I was coming.

"Hey guys," I said, feigning cheerfulness. I tossed each of them a soda and opened my own. Adam set his down on the floor next to him and stood.

"Where's your bathroom?" he asked.

"Up the stairs, first door to the right," I said.


Adam left the room, and I quickly turned to Violet, running my hand nervously through my shaggy red hair. "What happened, Vi?"

She furrowed her eyebrows. "I dunno," she said thoughtfully. "I was hitting on him like crazy, but he... I dunno. He didn't look uncomfortable, but he didn't flirt back. He didn't get embarrassed or shy or... I dunno, it was like he didn't even notice. Which is fucking impossible!" she said almost angrily. She took a breath and shook her head. "He was exactly the same to me when I was flirting with him, as he was when he caught you staring at him. He just smiled and kept on like it was nothing."

My stomach closed in on itself. "He caught me staring?"

She snorted. "Blind and deaf people could have caught you staring. You looked at him like Calista Flockheart looks at a sandwich."

I looked at the floor, my face burning.

Violet sighed. "Oh, honey... I'm sorry," she said, pulling me into a hug. "I'm sorry I can't tell you anything, but he's just... confusing. If he doesn't like you, he's a fucking moron."

I heard footsteps on the stairs, and me and my sister pulled apart, quickly starting to talk about some random crap as Adam came back in.

"Did you have fun?" Violet asked cheerfully.

"Had the time of my life," Adam joked.

We talked for a while longer, about anything that came up. Music, movies, what we did for fun, being twins, whatever. Nothing mind-bending or radical came up, nothing about sex or mine and Violet's crazy parents or anything.

By the time Adam told us he had to leave, I was just about ready to jump on him. I had gotten half-hard somewhere during the conversation, staring at his chest and the way his muscles moved when he did, and trying to catch a glimpse of what he had in his pants. I almost had to physically restrain myself from reaching out and touching Adam.

When we dropped him off at his house, which was only a few blocks away from ours, it was a mental tug-of-war between relief that I wouldn't have to hide my attraction to him, and despair that I wouldn't be around him anymore.

It took me forever to fall asleep that night. I couldn't stop thinking of Adam. I went through my day over and over again, trying to find some sort of clue as to whether or not I had even the slightest chance of getting together with him. I couldn't tell one way or the other. He hadn't been uncomfortable when he found me looking at him so many times, nor when Violet flirted with him. I was getting sort of mixed signals.

After all, what are the odds that I could find the one guy taller than me in the entire school who was so cute, so polite, so nice, and so friendly, and also interested in me? There was only a ten percent chance he was gay at all, and much less of a chance he would be interested in me. Christ, what were the odds on that one?

Around three in the morning, I ended up taking some of Gracie's herbal sleeping pills. My last thought before I fell asleep was,

I wonder... what are the odds?


If you made it this far, I'd like to think I did at least a marginal job with this. But unless you tell me, I'll never know if anyone even read it. So I'm about to abandon all sense of dignity and beg for feedback.

Pleasepleaseplease? I beg of thee, tell me what you think. I'm worried it may be too long, but I can't help it. I'm very wordy.

Leave me a review, or email me at: [email protected]