by Dave Ferraro
My phone beeped as the bell rang for first period. My heart raced when I realized it was from Katie.
Justin, you take Calculus, right? Want to study together?
Joy flooded me with warm buoyant ecstasy. Nathan could pummel me to a pulp. I didn't care. Katie liked me. Why else would she text me and want to study together? I was probably getting well ahead of myself, but I had visions of me and Katie riding off into the sunset on a white stallion. Maybe even a unicorn. With wings. This was my chance to impress her with my mad math skills. She would fall in love with me, and BAM! Happy ending.
Yeah, I'm totally delusional.
I could hardly wait for lunchtime so I could tell Mark and Harry, my best friends, the great news. I couldn't wait to tell them how Katie was going to fall in love with me all thanks to the power of Calculus.
Lunchtime arrived and I snagged our usual table. They arrived moments later. The two of them could have been brothers with their tall lanky frames and unruly brown hair. I delivered the good news about Katie and showed them her text on my phone the second they sat down. I'd been expecting some high-fives, a congratulatory speech and maybe even some jealous looks. Instead, they wrecked my world.
"Dude, Katie just started dating Brad Nichols," Mark said.
The screen on my phone cracked from the intensity of my grip. "Brad Nichols?" My dreams of happily ever after faded to misery. "But I saved her from Nathan! What did Brad effing Nichols ever do for her?"
"It totally blows, Man." Mark sighed. "I'm really sorry. But hey, I hear Gabby Hughes is available." He winked.
My heart pounded and ached. My stomach clenched. I wanted to throw up and roar with rage at the same time but ended up getting a bad case of hiccups instead.
I scanned the crowded lunchroom and spotted Brad sitting with a group of girls at another table halfway across the room. Katie didn't have the same lunch period or she might be sitting with him right this very moment. Brad had on his usual leather motorcycle jacket and bad-boy "I don't give a crap" smirk. He probably kept his black hair cropped close so he wouldn't walk around with dorky helmet-hair after zipping around on his crotch rocket.
I noticed Mark staring at Brad as well, a mix of jealousy and awe mixed on his face. "Don't tell me you wish you were him," I said even though somewhere in the back of my mind, a part of me raised its hand and shouted, I want to be like him!
Mark gave me a guilty look and locked eyes with Harry. "I dunno. I mean, we're almost done with high school and what do we have to show for it? It'd be nice to at least have a girlfriend."
"We're number one in Kings and Castles," I said.
Harry shrugged. "So what? Don't get me wrong—I still love it." He glanced back over at Brad. "But why can't we have it all?"
Just great. Not only did Brad have Katie, but he was also luring my friends away from me. I wished fervently for the zombie apocalypse to strike so I could rescue Katie from the clutches of zombie Brad with a shotgun blast to his ugly face. I'd steal his motorcycle, grip Katie around the waist and pull her on with me before roaring away to safety. Scorching anger scalded my heart. It came unexpectedly in a boiling flood, washing away all reason. My face grew hot and fists balled so tight my knuckles cracked.
My forehead felt like twin volcanoes were erupting in my brain. I clenched my teeth in agony and pressed my hands to my face. Something sharp poked my fingers. Powerful odors overwhelmed my nose. Armpit stench. Hair chemicals. Old Spice. Why is it always Old Spice? Underneath it all was something different. Something sensual. Something very female. I unclenched my eyes and looked, but all I could see were blotches of color and blurs.
Another pulse of pain jackhammered my brain and the headache vanished. My eyesight snapped to normal. Mark and Harry regarded me with wide-eyed concern.
"You okay?" Harry asked. "Your face was beet red for a second there."
Mark chuckled. "I thought your eyes were gonna explode out of your skull."
"I'm fine," I said as the headache faded in an instant like the mother of all brain-freezes. I gave Brad Nichols the evil eye again and almost asked my friends what Brad Nichols had that I didn't. Stupid question. Over the course of my short life I'd made choices. Unhealthy choices, obviously. I'd eaten comfort foods and made myself fat. I'd never worked out at a gym or expanded my interests beyond Kings and Castles. In short, I was the blubbery sum of seventeen-plus years of bad decisions and now I was paying the piper. Maybe those choices were the reasons these horrific migraines were suddenly nailing me out of the blue. I might be dying from a brain tumor, but all I could think about was Katie. I wanted to steal her from Brad and make her mine.
Unfortunately, I had an acute streak of romanticism in me that wanted True Love, Princess Bride style. I wanted love and marriage before sex. Call me old-fashioned, but what could be better than having your first time with the girl of your dreams? Probably having wild sex with lots and lots of hot girls, said my second brain. My first brain chimed in agreement causing me to wonder which brain was really the one in charge. Ugh. Why couldn't girls come with manuals? Or maybe even picture cards like the ones airlines use?
I looked up from my brooding. Mark and Harry gobbled down the school cafeteria mush and talked animatedly about our upcoming Kings and Castles tournament. A patch of darkness caught in my peripheral vision. I glanced right. Large black-lined eyes gazed back at me. The Goth girl. Her raven-dark hair cascaded like a curtain over the white makeup covering her face. I looked behind me and then back at her. She was definitely looking at me, I decided. She quirked an eyebrow and then scribbled something in a notebook.
Just great. Was she jotting down something about me? I could just imagine her notes: subject is still alive but death by football players is imminent. Will drink his blood for the Dark Master.
I arrived home from school and whisked into my room, easing the door shut and locking it. I didn't want to deal with my parents right now. They were such a happy couple; I felt like a complete failure for being such a loser when it came to love and life. Oh boo hoo hoo. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Easier said than done.
I buried myself in homework to forget my troubles. Loud voices jerked me from a particularly difficult calculus problem some time later.
"It's foolish, Alice," my dad said. "They'll never let you or her come back."
"I don't care, David. I don't give a damn what they do to me," Mom said, the words raw with anger.
"But I do." The tremble of pain in my dad's voice stabbed me in my heart. What in the world was going on? Had something terrible happened?
I rushed from my room and crossed the hallway to theirs. My parents were hugging, their tear-streaked faces red and tortured.
"Who died?" I asked, unsure what to feel since I didn't really know any of my relatives and I didn't think my parents would be this upset over one of my classmates.
They leapt apart like two teenagers caught on the couch, wiping away tears from wide, startled eyes.
"Your aunt Petunia," Mom said, first as usual to regain composure in a pressure situation.
"Tragic," Dad said, offering me a timid smile though his eyes looked red with grief.
I stared at the two of them with narrowed eyelids for a moment. They were hiding something, but Mom already had her cool façade back in place. She crossed the room and pressed a hand to my head. "Are you feeling okay?"
I sighed and pushed her hand away. "I'm fine. Everything is peachy keen and perfect in my life." I turned to walk out the door. "Which side of the family is dear Auntie Petunia on?"
"Mine," Mom said. "She was a fine woman."
"Since I've never met any of my relatives, I guess I'll have to take your word for it."
"Justin, we've been over this before," Mom said. "Your father's family and mine don't get along."
"That's putting it mildly," Dad chimed in.
She gave him an exasperated look. "David, pl
ease!" She turned back to me. "As a result, we're not on the best of terms with either of our families."
"But Aunt Petunia is special?"
"Yes."
Dad clapped his hands together. "Now that's settled, how about some supper?"
In the kitchen five minutes later, Mom dropped a microwaved meal in front of me. It made a moist squishy noise when the plastic tray hit the table. The poof of steam rising from it looked vaguely like a mushroom cloud. I couldn't remember the last time she'd made something in the microwave. She loved to cook. I loved to eat what she cooked. That was part of the reason for the extra-large spare tire around my waist.
"How are you feeling, honey?" she asked, pressing a hand to my forehead and murmuring the same mumbo jumbo she did every so often. She said it was good luck and I think she'd brainwashed me into believing her superstitions because my forehead usually tingled afterward.
"I told you earlier I'm fine, Mom." I wasn't about to mention my headaches to my parents. They seemed to be real worrywarts when it came to my health and I was irrationally frightened of the hospital.
She kissed me on the forehead, stood, and vanished down the hallway to her office. Dad pulled his dinner from the microwave and sighed. He looked down the hall toward Mom's office with a sad expression. I didn't blame him. This microwaved stuff sucked.
"Dad, did you ever want a girl who was out of your league?"
He raised an eyebrow and took a moment to answer. "Of course, Son."
I'm strictly heterosexual and not incestuous or anything, but my dad is a fairly handsome man. I'd overheard Myra Bergenhoff and another woman swooning over him in the grocery store once. Sometimes women would give him this really intense stare, like he was a celebrity or wearing chocolate body spray. The only woman who never looked at him that way was Mom. I guess being married helps you look past a person's charm. Unfortunately, I didn't have Dad's good looks or his chocolate BO.
"Having girl problems, son?" Dad actually seemed kind of happy I wasn't tearing it up with the ladies.
"Sort of."
"Anything weird ever happen?" He winked and said "weird" in a mocking voice, but his eyes looked oddly worried.
I decided to play dumb since I didn't have a clue where this was going. "Girls are just weird." Then again, maybe he was questioning my sexuality. "Not that I don't like girls, of course. I totally like girls and females of…uh…the human variety." I didn't want him thinking I was into bestiality either.
"You know, if you ever have any questions, you can ask me."
Eww. "I'll keep that in mind." I could sense a well-intentioned but useless father-son chat coming, so I grabbed my microwaved mush and dashed into my room.
My phone beeped. Another text from Katie. Want to study tonight?
Despite the crushing sense of defeat overwhelming me upon learning about her and Brad, a tiny ray of hope blossomed. I'm so optimistic it makes me sick. I knew I was only setting myself up for another dose of hurt, but it didn't matter.
I agreed to meet her over at her place in half an hour. I spent the next few minutes putting on my best pair of cargo pants and an XXL T-shirt to cover my fleshiness, and brushed my Gandalf-like hairdo until it looked somewhat presentable. I took Dad's Jetta and scooted over to her house with a dash of sunshine in my heart.
I parked at the curb near Katie's house and walked up the driveway. Soft sobbing noises emanated from ahead. Katie sat under the glow of the outside lights near the front door.
"Katie?" I said. "Are you okay?"
She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. "Oh God, I'm so embarrassed."
I sat down next to her. "What's wrong?"
She blew her red nose into a tissue and shook her head. The girl might be gorgeous under normal circumstances, but she was an ugly crier. I didn't care.
She pulled out a fresh tissue and wiped her nose. "You know Brad, right?"
"Of course," I said in a tone that indicated Brad and I went way back.
"He's a real jackass."
On the outside, I managed to craft a concerned look instead of smiling or laughing maniacally. On the inside I danced a jig. "What did the jerk do?"
"I've seen Rebecca talking to him a lot. He always tells me they're just friends."
I nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Not a good sign." Rebecca was one of the perpetual beauty pageant girls in the school. Pretty hot, I had to admit, but nobody topped Katie, not in my book. And what in the world was so special about Brad "I have a motorcycle" Nichols that made the girls want to talk to him? He didn't play sports, he wasn't muscular, and he seemed dumb as a brick. It had to be the motorcycle. That in and of itself probably added plus ten charisma to his character.
Riding the school bus put me somewhere in negative territory on that count.
"Jenny told me she saw Brad riding through Midtown on his motorcycle with Rebecca." Another sob shook her.
Anger crept up my chest in a wave of heat. How could guys like Brad get away with garbage like this? He had the most perfect girl in the universe crying over him while guys like me could only dream of even kissing a girl like Katie.
My brain abruptly decided now was the time to attack its bony prison again. Katie's face blurred and an incredible musky aroma tickled my nose. Steaming sensuality lingered at the edge of my senses, teasing me, beckoning me to take it and make it mine. A part of me reached for it. But a searing flash of agony ripped me back to reality. I winced and gritted my teeth, but Katie didn't seem to notice.
"…I thought it was something really special. He told me he loved me. I just don't understand, Justin. I really need a guy's perspective on this. What do you think I should do?"
The headache vanished, leaving me in a slightly euphoric state as endorphins flooded my system. The blurry shape in my view sharpened into Katie's face. She was looking at me, probably waiting for a response to Brad's outrageous behavior.
"Probably dump him," I managed to croak.
"Why can't I find a nice guy?"
I'm right here! I wanted to scream in her face. Outwardly, I plastered a concerned look on my face. "I've heard some bad things about Rebecca. I wouldn't doubt it if they slept together." Katie sobbed even harder. It made me feel a lot better.
"I can't believe he would do this," she said between gasps.
I couldn't believe she was taking this so hard. Hadn't they just started dating? Was she really that head-over-heels in love with the guy? And then it hit me. And my mouth spit out what my brain was thinking without me meaning or wanting to say it aloud. "You slept with him."
Her eyes widened. Her face blanched. "Is it that obvious?" She blew noisily into a tissue. "Please, you can't tell anyone."
I couldn't believe she hadn't just denied it. "I won't."
A single tear trickled down her wet cheek. "I can't believe I let him be my first. We had so much fun together. And now I feel horrible." Sobs wracked her body.
I put an arm around her shoulders. At some point I might have fantasized about this moment, about squeezing Katie's hot body to mine, but the magic turned to ashes, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth and an ache in my heart. So much for true love. So much for riding off into the sunset. Katie had wrecked her virginity against the uncaring shores of Brad Nichols.
I wanted to kill him.
When she finally calmed down—which took a while—she hugged me back. "I feel so bad for unloading all of this on you, Justin. You're such a great guy. I wish there were more like you out there."
"You want more overweight nerds in the world?"
She laughed. "See, nothing bothers you. I know we've known each other a long time, but I guess we've never gotten to know each other."
A dull throb pulsed in my forehead. Great. All I needed was another headache. Katie's face blended into an indistinct blur as the pain increased. This cranial assault wasn't as sudden as the others. It crept from my forehead to the back of my bra
in and slithered down my spine, all ice, fire, and needles. I sensed that strange presence again. It was Katie, but at the same time it wasn't Katie. It ached to be free. It begged me to grab it by the hair and drag it into the closest cave.
Katie gasped. Our lips met. She pressed herself to me willingly and all thoughts of the world faded into bliss.
And then a bomb went off in my skull.
I wrenched away from her and the ghostly presence slipped from my grasp. The pain flashed away as quickly as it had come. I stared at Katie. She stared at me. I didn't know what to say about the last few seconds. We'd kissed, right? It hadn't been a dream? Maybe these migraines were making me hallucinate. I didn't know what to think anymore.
Katie's huge green eyes focused on me. "Justin, that was…unexpected."
So we had kissed. "All part of my master plan for world domination." Where in the world did that come from?
She smiled. "I can't figure you out. You're brave—I mean just look what you did to Nathan. And now you've made me feel so much better tonight."
"Probably my Axe body spray," I said.
A giggle burst from her lips. "You're funny too." She looked at me for a moment and I could see the uncertainty looming in her eyes. "Justin, I really like you. But I don't know—"
"Hey, it's fine," I said, standing up and brushing leaves off my cargo pants. "Look, I have a Kings and Castles tournament this Saturday. You want to come?"
"Is it like that restaurant with the jousting knights in it?"
"Um, not exactly. It's mostly a bunch of nerds clubbing each other with foam weapons."
"Ooh, that sounds fun to watch."
"Cool. I'll text you the details." I waved goodbye and made for the car before she could overanalyze what just happened. I felt heady. Unstoppable. I kissed Katie Johnson. Holy crap, I had really done it. I hooted with laughter and smacked the steering wheel. I tried to forget the dark stains on this otherwise flawless victory. Brad Nichols had taken her virginity. And he might not like me stealing his girlfriend.
Chapter Four: Sweet Blood of Mine
