Chapter Three
Tim shifted in the hard plastic seat and resisted moaning in miserable boredom. Had he really wished for the school year to begin? At the front of class, a thin woman with wiry gray hair read passages from a book. The idea was to entice them, since they were about to read it themselves, but so far nothing much of interest seemed to happen in Holden Caulfield’s life.
The words blurred together, Tim’s mind turning to sex as it always did when he was bored. When his brain checked out and left his body in charge, it only ever wanted a few basic things. This class was almost over, and getting hard now would be inconvenient when the bell rang, so Tim tried to find something else to occupy his attention.
He covertly eyed the other students. The guys didn’t look so different from those back in Kansas, except for a handful who dressed like cowboys. The hats weren’t there, at least not in class, but the picnic-patterned shirts and massive belt buckles were. Girls in Texas favored more makeup and often wore their hair up. Literally. Hairspray must be in constant short supply here because a lot of the hairdos—especially the bangs—were sculpted to defy gravity.
Tim felt someone watching him and caught them in the act. A girl, and a pretty one at that. She had a little of the heavy makeup and sprayed hair, but it worked for her. Ramrod thin with pale blonde hair, she wore an open expression that made her appear timid, like a woodland creature. Their eyes still locked, Tim gave a tentative smile. She smiled back, adorable as a doe.
Beyond her was a bear, a hulking package of muscle squeezed into his desk chair. The guy looked like he belonged in college, maybe as a linebacker on the football team. He seemed annoyed at the exchange Tim and Little Miss Doe had shared. The guy had blond hair and green eyes too—not the same shade as the girl’s, but he could be her brother. Or boyfriend, since they didn’t share any family resemblance. Tim returned his attention to the teacher, keeping his eyes averted even when the bell rang and he left the class.
Time for lunch. Tim strolled around the cafeteria, checking out the vending machines full of sugar-free drinks. He got a lemonade, and though he was hungry, he didn’t line up for food, not wanting to be the pathetic new guy sitting alone at a table. Making new friends was more daunting than he’d expected. In Kansas he’d been around the same people all his life and knew who everyone was, even if he never interacted with them. And he had been popular. Here, he was a nobody.
But that anonymity was what he wanted. Tomorrow he would swallow his pride and sit alone, but today he went outside and walked around the school, enjoying the weather. When the bell rang, he went back in for his other classes. In U.S. History, the teacher didn’t seem interested in starting the year quite yet and let them “get settled,” as he put it. This meant everyone could talk. Tim had a conversation with a girl who was nice enough, but her cheeks kept flushing like they were on a first date or something. They didn’t have much in common.
When the school day finally ended, he was eager to get to his car and head home. The new house was close enough that he could make the trip a long walk or a short jog, but today Tim had driven. He wanted to make a good first impression, and this didn’t go unnoticed.
“Nice car.”
Tim turned, his hand on the Mitsubishi’s door handle. The guy eyeing his car like it was a naked woman was stocky, bordering on chubby. But his clothes were all designer-label, and his hair might have been highlighted, since it was darker underneath than on top. One thing was for sure: No common barber had ever touched those locks.
“Thanks. Just got it for my birthday.”
“Sixteen?” the guy asked.
“Seventeen.”
“Ah. Well, that’s what I got for my sixteenth.”
The guy pointed to a cherry-red Porsche. Several people were gathered around it, most of them watching Tim and the guy talking. Little Miss Doe was there, as was her huge companion and a number of other beautiful people. High school royalty. Farther away was their court, the people not quite in their inner circle but desperate to be.
“You new here?”
“Yeah. Just moved down this summer.” He held out his hand, giving the other guy a firm grip. “Tim Wyman.”
“Darryl Briscott. Hey, we’re having a party to help wipe today from our minds. You want to come?”
Tim nodded. “When and where?”
Darryl’s smile was smug. “My place, right now.”
Before they went anywhere, Darryl walked Tim over to the group for a round of introductions. His woodland creature was Krista Norman, the tower of muscles Bryce Hunter. Definitely not brother and sister then. The other names and faces Tim would have to catch on the sly because he had already forgotten most of them.
He followed Darryl’s Porsche to a neighborhood that made his own look destitute. A lot of his friends in Kansas were rich, so his mind wasn’t blown, but for the first time in his life he wondered if he was going to make the cut. This invitation was obviously the beginning of an interview. Tim had the looks and he had the car, but there were still plenty of ways to fall out of grace, as he had learned back home.
Three other cars were in their convoy, and once parked, Darryl’s driveway looked like a sports car showroom. The inside of the house was spacious. Rich homes either had a ton of rooms or scaled-up versions of the normal amount. Darryl’s home was of the latter variety. Every room was like a cathedral, the ceilings so high they could have easily supported an additional floor halfway up.
“This way, my man,” Darryl said.
He led Tim through the house to a room that nearly made his jaw drop. He supposed it wasn’t so different from his father’s den, but taken to a whole new level. Instead of a big-screen television, the room had a movie screen and a projector built into opposite walls. Beneath the projector was a long L-shaped couch that could seat at least ten.
Instead of a mere wet bar, the far wall looked like it had been stolen from a British pub and teleported to Texas. Set against a giant mirror were shelves and shelves of liquor bottles, all lit tastefully from below.
In front of this was an ebony bar with brass accents and half a dozen empty stools. Tim happily plopped down on one. Darryl played bartender, switching on some music as everyone got settled. Then he turned to Tim and asked a question that sent his mouth watering.
“What’ll it be?”
“A beer.”
“A beer man, very good.” Except Darryl didn’t open a fridge and pull out a bottle. Instead he grabbed a mug, held it tilted under a nozzle, and pulled a handle. Tim died and went to heaven. They actually had beer on tap! In their home! He needed to have a serious talk with his dad. Of course his father wouldn’t be cool about it, even as a joke.
Darryl set the glass on the bar, but it was only two-thirds full. “Beer isn’t very strong, especially for the first day of school. Ever had a depth-charge?”
Tim shook his head. Darryl grinned and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He filled a shot glass full before dropping it straight into the beer mug. The beer fizzed and foamed, but didn’t overflow. Pushing the mug toward him, Darryl started taking other orders. He certainly knew his stuff. He whipped up everything from cocktails to daiquiris, always knowing a way of making the requested drink stronger. No wonder he was popular!
“What do you think?” he asked, nodding toward Tim’s beer.
The foam had died down enough for Tim to take a sip. It tasted like someone had pissed in his beer, but he nodded appreciatively and lied. “Fucking delicious!”
Darryl was having the same and clinked mugs with Tim before nodding to the room. “Looks like you have a fan.”
Tim turned around. A dozen other people were there, but he only remembered the names of two. Doe-eyed Krista Norman was staring at him, but laughed and looked at her friend like she hadn’t been. And that friend of hers was something else! Krista was pretty, but the brunette next to her was beautiful. Dangerous too, judging from the power Tim felt behind her gaze. Unlike Krista, the brunette offered no bashful flirtation. Instead she sized him up in seconds and looked away again. Tim, feeling a little uncomfortable, did the same. He spun back around in the stool, catching a hulking giant glaring at him as he did so.
“A fan, huh?” Tim said. “You mean Bryce?”
Darryl guffawed. “Don’t worry about him. Not only is he big as an ox, but he plays like one too.”
“Football?”
“That, and women.” Darryl gestured to the room with his mug. “He thinks all these cows belong to him.”
Charming.
“The problem is,” Darryl continued, “everyone here has dated everyone else. Some of us have a harder time letting go, is all.”
“So you talking to me is making Bryce jealous?”
Darryl laughed again. “He’s nothing to worry about. He’s with Stacy Shelly now, and believe me, she’s the kind of girl who keeps you in line.”
“The brunette?” Tim asked as if disinterested.
“Yeah. That’s Krista’s best friend. Speaking of which—” He nodded over Tim’s shoulder. “What do you think?”
“Krista? I think she’s hot.”
“So do I, but no one ever gets anywhere with her. She’s a prude.”
“Or maybe none of you guys have the right moves.” Banter. It was so damn easy.
A cocky smile spread over Darryl’s face. “All right. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
They went to join the others on the couch, Darryl telling people to move over, making room for Tim to sit next to Krista. When Tim put his mug on the long coffee table, he noticed it was more than half-empty. That explained the warm feeling inside.
“Hey,” Tim said, focusing on Krista. She turned bright red, like he had asked to see her panties.
“Hi,” she managed.
Stacy leaned forward on the couch to get a better view of him. “So, Mr. Tim Wyman, where exactly are you from?”
Tim managed to meet her gaze, but only just. “Kansas.” He could see her tallying the points in her head. Had he been from somewhere cool, say California, he would have earned more.
“Trying out for any of the teams?” she asked next.
“Yeah. Not sure which, though.”
“How about football?” Bryce said.
Right. Like Tim was looking forward to getting crushed beneath him during practice. Tim had given football a shot in freshmen year and hated it. People in Kansas were fanatics about high school football, especially the teachers. While it was an easy way to get good grades—since failing meant the team lost a player—Tim hated the intense pressure. Basketball was out too, since being six feet tall didn’t amount to much on the court. That left cross country in the fall, which they probably wouldn’t care about, but in the spring…
“I’m thinking about baseball,” he said.
“Wait, there’s a baseball team?” Darryl said sarcastically.
Stacy played off this, sounding bored. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of one.”
“Trust me,” Tim said, looking her in the eye. “When I’m on the team, it’s all you’ll ever hear about.”
Most people chuckled at his joke, but Stacy’s eyes lit up with scored points. Darryl hopped up to get more drinks, and the rest of the party was much more relaxed. Tim was in. For now. They would never stop watching and judging him, but that was high school. The wine flowed like wine, and so did the depth-charged beers. Considering he had skipped lunch, every beer felt like two, maybe four including the whiskey. Soon enough, Tim had his arm around Krista, and she was either flushing or giggling in response to everything he said.
At some point Darryl’s parents were mentioned, which was the alarm that sent everyone scurrying for their cars. Tim knew he shouldn’t drive, but he couldn’t crash at Darryl’s place. The streets were a distorted blur, and he managed to get lost a few times, but an army of exhausted guardian angels guided him home safely. The last of them helped him up the stairs and to his bathroom. Tim barely managed to get the toilet seat up before he puked his guts out.
All in all, a fairly normal first day of school.
* * * * *
“Timmy!”
Krista Norman darted down the hall and put a hand on his arm. Funny how first impressions could be so wrong. Last week Krista had seemed so shy. Now she never stopped talking. Not that Tim minded much, since it meant less effort on his part. Usually he would daydream about other things while she rattled on.
And Bryce, who had seemed so big and scary before… Well, he was still both those things, but he had warmed up to Tim, probably because he’d kept his distance from Stacy. And maybe Bryce didn’t worry about Tim getting anywhere with Krista, since more people than Darryl had since told him she was a prude. That was fine by him. Horny as Tim might be, he still felt shell-shocked from the rape rumors in Kansas.
“Hey, faggot!” Bryce rumbled.
Tim looked up and followed his gaze. The intended target was obvious, since he was the only guy standing still as everyone else hurried to class. Brown eyes stared at him from below perfectly styled blond hair, and for one moment, Tim thought of Corey.
“He really is, you know,” Krista said in a stage whisper.
The guy’s face turned red, but he seemed more angry than embarrassed. He glared at Bryce, even though he was skinny enough to be crushed by one of those ham fists. Then he waved sarcastically at Krista, imitating her snobby body language. The guy had guts! Finally he looked at Tim, as if he was still unsure about him. Tim returned the wave, which didn’t seem to please him, since he spun around and stalked off down the hall.
“Who was that?”
“Brian Bentley,” Krista said, rolling her eyes.
“No, it’s Benjamin,” Bryce corrected, “as in bend over!”
The joke didn’t make sense, but for Bryce it was probably his wittiest moment.
“Walk me to class?” Krista said.
“Yeah,” Tim answered distractedly.
He said goodbye to Bryce and let Krista guide him down the hall. Krista started talking about a shopping trip or something involving shoes, Tim nodding along until they reached her class. Then he interrupted her.
“How does anyone know?” he asked.
“What?”
“That Benjamin guy. How does anyone know he’s gay?”
Krista looked repulsed. “Because he told everyone.”
“Seriously?” Tim considered this in surprise. “That takes balls.”
“More like he’s crazy. Who cares anyway? He’s just some loser.”
“Well, if nobody cares, then why pick on him?” Tim had never understood the way popular kids picked on those who weren’t. He got along with everyone, really. But here, just like back in Kansas, being on top seemed to require making everyone below you miserable.
Krista rolled her eyes. “Do you want me to get you his number or something?”
“Why would I want it?” Tim said forcefully enough that she blanched.
“I was just kidding. Geez.”
Tim glared at her. “Why would you even joke about that? Huh?”
Krista grasped for words and for once couldn’t find any.
“I’ll see you during lunch.”
Tim sulked his way down the hall. He had only asked a simple question. Krista didn’t need to jump to conclusions like that. Just because he didn’t hate someone for what they were, didn’t make him the same thing. He felt irritated at himself for even broaching the stupid subject. But once he was in class and had calmed down, part of him couldn’t help smile that there was someone crazy enough to stand up to Bryce Hunter.
* * * * *
Tim waited in line for lunch, the smell of greasy cafeteria food making his stomach growl. Bryce’s stomach roared back, echoing the sentiment. They did this every day, grabbing two trays each and bringing them back to Krista and Stacy like waiters on a date. Tim only started doing it because he enjoyed the quiet that came from leaving Krista at the table.
“I’ve got this one.”
They turned in unison, puzzled at Stacy’s presence.
“What?” Bryce asked.
“Today I’m bringing you your food. Go sit down.”
Bryce shrugged and did as he was told, leaving Tim and Stacy alone for the first time. Tim knew this had never happened before because he made sure it didn’t. As hot as she was, Stacy scared the hell out of him. Maybe because she was as mean as Carla could be, except Stacy usually didn’t bother playing nice.
Not that she couldn’t, when she wanted. A male teacher had once come up to her in the hall and asked why she had missed class. Stacy went all giggling dingbat, her every movement adorable and flirtatious. The teacher had forgiven her pretty quickly and headed down the hall, probably so no one would notice the growing tent in his pants.
“Double date tonight,” Stacy said with a calculating smile. “Or at least, it was supposed to be.”
“The four of us?” Tim asked.
Stacy nodded. “Don’t you think it’s time you make it official? I know Krista is an idiot, but believe me, there are benefits to dating someone so stupid.”
Tim didn’t reply.
“You’re a very careful person,” Stacy said. “Why is that?”
Tim shrugged and gave an easy smile. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“I didn’t say you did. Look, Krista thinks you’re mad at her. Something about Ben Bentley, the gay guy.”
Tim played dumb. “Oh, is that his name?”
There was a long pause before Stacy answered. “Yes. Yes, it is.” Forget Bryce. She was way scarier. What a monster couple they made! The beauty and the beast, but it was Stacy’s intelligence that made her dangerous.
“Yeah, well, that guy smarted off to Krista,” Tim huffed, “and I wanted to know who he was. It pissed me off, that’s all.”
Stacy searched his eyes, but seemed satisfied. “You like her, and she likes you, right?”
“Obviously.”
“Then ask her. Dinner and a movie, tonight. Unless you want people to start asking why you’re still single.”
Stacy walked away. A minute later, her boyfriend was sent back over to wait in line with him.
“I don’t understand women,” Bryce huffed.
Tim did. He understood them all too well.