It’s a bit warmer this morning than the previous morning. It's getting up in the 70s [low 20s Celsius] and might hit 80 [about 27 Celsius] by the middle of the day. I watch Hannah at soccer practice again, making sure to bring a water bottle with me. Three of her friends came to watch too, who occasionally heckle her from the stands. Once, they even got yelled at by the coach after one of them, a girl with short, dyed-blue curly hair, yelled that Hannah needed to “kick their asses,” causing the squad to devolve into a fit of giggles.

After practice, Hannah leans over the railing and clicks her tongue at her friends. “Are you trying to get me in trouble?” she asks sternly.

Her friends once again dissolved into a fit of giggling.

“We wanted to come and support you!” says a taller latina girl.

“Yeah, it’s unfair that your boyfriend gets to come watch and we don’t!” says the blue-haired girl.

“You’re not allowed to talk right now,” Hannah chides.

The girl’s giggling immediately goes silent, and she takes on an expression of calm, polite interest.

Hannah turns her head to me. “Speaking of my boyfriend though, why don’t you introduce yourself, Kevin? You introduced me to your friends, so it’s only fair.”

“Yeah, very true,” I say, standing up. “Hey, I’m Kevin.”

Hannah’s three friends say “Ooooh,” in unison and begin whispering among themselves, looking me over up and down.

“Kevin, these three idiots are my friends. This is Sally-” a girl with curly blonde hair and glasses who enthusiastically smiles and waves at me- “Eufemia-” the tall latina girl nods politely- “and Vanessa.” The girl with the curly blue hair says, “Hi.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say.

Hannah’s three friends and I follow her to the lockers. Her friends are still in a very silly mood, and ask me a bunch of questions on the way, such as what sports I've played, how Hannah and I met, how old I was, my height, and whose classes I’m in. At one point, one of them asked my shoe size, at which point Hannah intervened and told them to shut up and stop bothering me. They passed the rest of the walk in silence, but by that time, we had taken so long that almost everyone else had already gone back into the school.

The girls seem as though they’re going to follow her into the locker rooms, when she tells them to disperse and that they aren’t allowed because they’re not in sports. They go back to school, starting to chatter again as they walk out of earshot, one of them occasionally turning to glance back at us.

“I guess I’ll leave you be as well,” I say. “See you at-”

“You can come in with me, Kevin,” she says. “You’re in sports, right? Or at least, you were.”

“But I can’t go into the girl’s room!” I point out.

“Everyone’s gone anyway,” she says. “Plus, I need your help with something.”

As you may have been able to predict, what she needed help with was making out. I don’t personally have a lot of kissing experience yet, but she seemed to have no problem leading the way. After a somewhat awkward start, she becomes very passionate, leaning into me as though she wants to push me back against the wall. Her hands reach for my sides to hold me. It’s then when everything goes wrong. Her grip on my sides suddenly makes me afraid I’m going to feel a biting feeling. And all of a sudden, it’s like I’ve been sucked away, back to the time we were fighting that monster, and I was being lured into that pool…

I must have passed out for a few minutes, and I come to lay on the bench, feeling short of breath, Hannah firmly holding my hand.

“Kevin?” she asks.

“Huh?” I say. “What happened?”

“You were hyperventilating,” she explains. “Did you get too…?”

“Oh…” I say. “I’m sorry, I just… uh, bad memory.”

She frowns. “Bad memory?”

“Yeah, I uh… I guess I never told you this…”

Painfully, I give her a brief account about what happened last month with Ms. Truman.

“Mm,” she says. “I’ve heard a lot of guys fantasize about getting with their attractive teachers.”

“Well, they don’t understand that it’s not fun in real life,” I say indignantly. “And I didn’t even want that. I just wanted someone to talk to, and she…”

All of a sudden, I choke, and I feel tears start to roll out uncontrollably.

Hannah’s expression softens, and she pulls me into a close hug.

“I had heard people talking about that, but didn’t know the full story,” Hannah softly explains. “I didn’t think you seemed like the type of guy to get yourself into trouble like that.”

“I’ve never wanted trouble,” I say, still sniffling. “I just have the worst luck in the world…”

“Don’t worry. Your luck is turning up now,” she says, giving me an encouraging smile. “I won’t let anyone spread nasty rumors about you.”

“I appreciate that,” I say, getting a warm, comforting feeling. “Thanks for hearing me out and believing me.”

We don’t make out any more, but I nonetheless return to the school feeling good about things.

----------------------------------------

Meanwhile, at Bynum Intermediate school… before our first class, we’re all left to sit on the floor in the cafeteria in boredom. Except this morning, two boys are missing from their lines. Know which two?

“Is this… really the best time to do this?” Jason asks anxiously.

“Bitch, when else are we going to do it?” I ask seriously. “Come on.”

“What if someone sees?” he blithers.

“That’s what the curtain’s for!” I insist.

“But… uh…”

I get tired of waiting and lunge forward for my kiss.

So yeah. We snuck onto the stage to make out. And then we did.

Do I really have to go into more detail? What, do you want to see eighth graders making out? Sicko.

Honestly it’s really awkward anyway, neither of us are really that good at it. But I don’t care. I keep trying.

The bell rings. I ignore it.

“Hey, we should go. We’re gonna be la-”

“One more minute.”

So we keep going.

Hey, that one was good. I’m gonna hold on that… and now let me try-

“HEY!” shouts a voice that rings across the stage.

“You gotta be shitting me!” I say aloud.

It’s Mrs. Sato, one of the science teachers. I had her last year, she’s a bitch. Like me, she has curly blonde hair, and also like me, her face is red with anger as she looks at us with that annoying-ass ‘hands on my hips’ gesture.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

“You are not supposed to be here,” she states. “You know well by now that in the morning, you are to wait in line with your class.”

“Mrs. Sato… it wasn’t what it looks like,” says Jason meekly. “We weren’t doing anything, it just…”

“I expect this kind of behavior from Collin,” she interrupts. “But you should know better, Jason.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I challenge.

“Because you are irresponsible,” Mrs. Sato chides. “And honestly, this is foolish even for you. Have you thought about how much you’d embarrass your family? Your uncle just became the mayor, and your parents have gone through enough already.”

“Are you kidding? They’ve put me through enough!” I retort. “Hey, wait a minute. They’d only know about this if you said something. So why don’t you just…?”

She sighs at me. “I’m giving you a warning today,” she explains. At once, I give a huge sigh of relief. “But no more PDA, or I’ll have no choice but to write you up,” she threatens.

“This isn’t even in public!” I protest.

“Collin… don’t dig us any deeper into the hole!” Jason mutters.

“I suggest you both get to class before you’re late,” she orders. Then, having nothing else to say, she stomps back to her classroom.

“That’s… probably good advice,” Jason says. “C’mon.”

“Yeah. Don’t want to push our luck any more,” I agree.

----------------------------------------

Left… right… left… up… And we’re moving around the corner… OH SHIT! That one almost got us.

“Whoah. Nice reflexes,” Anja comments. “How’d you even see that one?”

“I dunno,” I say. “I just look at the whole screen at once.”

“That’s impossible,” she complains.

“Hey! Cover me!” I say.

A whole bunch of aliens start running at us. I get all the ones on my side.

The screen starts flashing red. Anja must have missed some.

“Hey! I said cover me!” I complain.

“I’m trying!” she cries.

“INCOMING!” I shout. I start firing at as many as I can get… and we're dead.

“Hey! Why’d you let those guys through!” I ask, irritated.

“Oh, fuck this!” Anja hisses. She slams her gun controller back into the slot, jumps off of her chair, and disappears.

Oh. Damn.

“Hey, uh… we could try again! I have another quarter!” I call after her.

I hear her feet stamping away.

Ouch… I was really hoping taking Anja to that arcade in the mall would help her be less depressed. Guess that didn’t work out.

I step away from the booth we were in and find her the next row over, putting her head down on a 4-player Pac-Man table.

“Hey, Anja?” I say timidly. “I’m sorry I was being mean. I didn’t mean it. I just get so into the zone when I’m gaming, you know how it is.”

“Yeah, I know,” Anja says. She picks her head up and sighs. “I’m just sick of feeling so useless all the time.”

Oh… I never know what to say when she gets like this. Unfortunately, it seems like saying, “Hey, you’re actually not useless” doesn’t seem to work. Even though it’s true. I mean, come on. She’s Anja. You already know.

“Well, uh… wanna do something else?” I say, not having the faintest clue what else we could possibly do, since we already went to GameStop.

“Whatever you wanna do. Doesn’t matter,” she says passively.

What else is even here? A bunch of clothing stores and shit… uh…

“Wanna go… dress me up in girl’s clothes or something?” I ask. “I dunno.”

She pauses for a moment, and then looks at me suspiciously. “Wait, you want me to dress you up in girl's clothes?” she asks.

“Well I just thought maybe you’d enjoy it, you know. Torturing me and all.”

Her eyes unfocus for a few seconds. And then, I see a smile slowly slide onto her face, as the light behind her eyes seems to flit back on for a moment.

And then, I see something behind her that makes me gasp out loud. She notices and quickly turns her head to look too.

It’s Lily and another one of my old friends, Nathan. I hadn’t seen him in MONTHS. He’s wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans, and his curly brown hair is messed up like he forgot to brush it.

“No way!” I say. “I know you guys!”

“Whoah. Is that Nova?” Nathan asks. “And uh… sorry, I forgot your name.”

“That’s my cousin Anja,” Lily says helpfully.

“Hey Lily,” Anja greets. She doesn’t look happy to see them; she seems to be avoiding making eye contact.

“How have you been, man?” I ask.

“Oh, pretty good,” Nathan answers. “What about you?”

“Better than ever,” I answer. “What brings you guys here?”

“Dad’s making me get new shoes,” Nathan says, sounding aggrieved by this. I look down and notice that his current tennis shoes have several holes in them, and the sole on one of them is halfway off. “But I convinced him to let Lily come so we could go have for a bit after.”

“Nova, you had friends who were lesbians, right?” Lily asks. “Are they doing okay?”

“Uh, about the same as usual,” I answer.

“I’ve seen a lot of homophobia recently,” Lily continues. “I think I have some ideas about what’s going on. Wanna come visit this weekend?”

“Uh, yeah, I should be able to,” I confirm.

“People have been so paranoid recently,” Nathan agrees. “Oh hey, if you’re coming down, maybe you can take part in our Smash Bros tournament. You still play, right?”

“Hell yeah I do!” I say. “That sounds dope.”

“See you this weekend, then!” Lily says.

Nathan and Lily go into the arcade, while Anja and I decide it’s time to head back.

“You do realize that Lily is trying to butt in on our Metaverse business, right?” Anja asks as we head in the direction she parked.

“Huh. You think so?” I ask.

“Yeah, why else would she want a full in-person conference to discuss the increase of homophobia?” she continues. “I’m sure she has some sort of ‘theory’ about it…”

“To be fair, she was right about that apartment,” I say. “And about what happened to…” I trail off, not wanting to talk about her mom out loud.

“Yeah, she was,” Anja says. She makes a heavy sigh. “Which is bound to embolden her conspiracism even further.”

“Or maybe she’s getting better at knowing what’s worth looking into and what’s just…”

“Antarctic Nazis?” Anja suggests.

This gives me a chuckle. “Yeah,” I say.

A faint smile comes to Anja’s lips. “I guess there’s only one way to find out,” she admits.

----------------------------------------

Like the courthouse, city hall was one of the older buildings in Enchantment City. The white stone building was immediately recognizable in its antiquated elegance. Inside, the recently elected mayor, Mr. Harold Parker gazed out the window. From there, one had a good view of the library, the sprinklers where children liked to play in the summer, of cars going back and forth on one of the main roads through town, and further down the street, a baseball field where a few kids were currently practicing. Mr. Parker thought it was a beautiful town. Preserving the town he loved so was a responsibility he treated with utmost seriousness.

His admiration is interrupted by the phone ringing. After gazing out the window for just a few more seconds, he presses a button to put the call on speaker.

“Mr. Parker, someone here to see you says he knows you personally,” the secretary says. “It’s a Harold Stephenson?”

“Ah yes! Send him right in,” Mr. Parker says.

“Sure thing. Just wanted to check with you,” the secretary says.

Mayor Parker took a seat in his chair. He straightened the red tie that added a splash of color to his white suit. He checked his hair on a small mirror on his desk. Although it was brown, it curled in a manner not unlike that of his niece and nephew. Pleased to find his hair and short goatee in order, he patiently waited for his guest to appear.

Soon enough, Mr. Stephenson bustles through the door. “I hope this is an alright time for you,” he says. “I would’ve come by yesterday, but it seemed too late in the day to start something.”

“It’s quite a fine time. And don’t you believe that I won’t have time for an old friend just because I’m mayor,” Mr. Parker reassures warmly. Other than sharing a first name, both Harolds had gone to the First Baptist church in town for decades, and have daughters who are close friends. “What troubles your mind, my old friend?”

“Well, I’ve had concerns about some of the things going on in the public school system as of late,” Mr. Stephenson explains. “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories. Teaching things that are… age-inappropriate. Pushing agendas. I’m sure you’ll agree with me that the matter is a particularly sensitive issue for our town, after the news of that… promiscuous teacher.”

Mr. Parker grimaces. The incident was a bit of a sore spot with him, as his out-lesbian niece had been in the teacher’s class, and had even been seen with her on the day of the incident. “Well, that teacher is… out of our hair now,” Mr. Parker says. “But, I do agree. We don’t want anything like that to happen again.”

“You won’t believe this, Harold,” Mr. Stephenson says in a low voice. “I was talking with a kid who goes to school with our girls yesterday. There are students there identifying as lesbian, transgender, all sorts of stuff. Where do they learn about all this?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re seeing it all on the internet,” Mr. Parker reasons.

“And I’m sure you’re right. But I wonder if the teachers are playing a part in it too. You know how liberal those schools tend to be. And again, after what happened a couple months back…”

“I suppose it’s better safe than sorry,” Mr. Parker agrees. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll place a call with the high school principal right away. I’ve found Mrs. Gibbs quite reasonably to work with, so I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Might want to pass it on to the Intermediate school as well,” Mr. Stephenson. “Kids are getting exposed to this stuff earlier and earlier. It’s a wild world we live in, I tell you.”

“True, best to be proactive,” Mr. Parker said. “Well old friend, anything else I can do while you’re here?”

“I won’t take up any more of your time. I know you’re a busy man,” Mr. Stephenson says courteously. “Thanks for hearing me out. It’s good to have someone with a conscience in local power for once.”

“You know I am a servant of God first and foremost, and a servant of our town second,” Mr. Parker says.

And as promised, Mr. Parker began work at once, holding a lengthy phone conversation with Mrs. Sheila Gibbs, the principal of Enchantment City High School, over what can be done to reassure parents of the safety of their children’s minds.