Narrator: Crystal Jennings
This sure beats caf patrol.
It had only been fifteen and a half months since I'd walked the perimeter of the school, but the nostalgia was overwhelming. Beneath the waning warmth of the sun and the leaves that turned quickly to fierce and fiery shades, I felt at peace.
I looked at my watch: 10:55 AM. Third period was just beginning.
My first day seems to be turning around quite nicely.
The wind whipped at my jacket, as I made my way around introducing myself to students that had been willing to come outside in the midst of the harsher than usual weather.
They smiled awkwardly, like they were supposed to. But to some, I was young enough to be told things the councilors wouldn't get to hear. And for that, I was grateful. Also, nobody asked if the Porsche was mine. For that, I was even more grateful.
I saw him. I blinked. I did not see him.
Was that CJ?
Surely, it was just the sunlight hitting someone else in such a way...
I ran closer, up the hill, and squinted as the sun got in my eyes. And there he was, sitting at the base of an elm tree. He nibbled a sandwich with disinterest, and looked out at the roadside with apathetic disinterest, as if he wasn't even watching what his eyes saw.
This was a very different CJ than the one for whom I harbored my affections. Clearly, I had done considerable damage. I had no idea he loved me this much...
His hair was dyed black with purple streaks, and fell in silky curtains from either side of his head. There was a silver ring in his right ear. And yet, he wore that same silver choker. Beside him, Vidal lay against the tree in a purple and black colour scheme of a bag. And, he was alone. Previously, CJ'd always made a point of never being alone, whenever he could.
I had tears in my eyes, to see him so. "CJ, are you all right?"
A wild grin crossed his lips. "I don't want to talk to you."
"I think you're lying," I said, as I sat on the opposite side of the tree as Vidal.
"Why aren't you pressing charges?"
I laughed, unable to see his face. "Darling, heh, we both know Adam was the only one who put a damn thing in my glass. And I enjoyed what we did far more than you did."
"Would you do it again?" he asked, his voice low and mysterious. I couldn't tell if he was testing me, or trying to be seductive. "Right here and now?"
"Umm... w-well, I do have a job here, and--"
"Your car is a hundred meters away, and the rec center is just up the road. Or we could roll down between these hills, if you'd rather..."
I admit, I wanted to. But I knew he didn't. "I know that's not what you want from me."
"You're right," he said. And then he spun around the tree to straddle my lap.
I was startled, for he'd never been the dominant one. I had always made the advances that weren't mutual... until now. Maybe I wouldn't have to keep to my scheme. Maybe I could repair things here and now.
He brought his face down, sideways, to kiss me, and I closed my eyes as his tongue slid past mine quite invasively. For a moment, we were one and I didn't even care about my co-op placement. I wouldn't care if Mrs. Abrams was watching. I'd let him do it anyways.
His hair smelled like herbal essences, and his pale skin smelled of cumin and oregano. It wasn't quite what I expected. I missed the harsher, flinty smells. Friday night, he'd smelled vaguely like cloves. Now, he was some kind of Adriatic herb garden.
Nevertheless, I was pleased. I made sounds of pleasure, into his mouth. And I struggled, unsuccessfully, to fight against the onslaught of his tongue.
And then he withdrew, grinning broadly. Even his teeth looked paler. "Garlic, lately?"
I nodded, "Sorry."
His nostrils flared and thin he kissed me once more. This time, he shifted his hips so that his erection, bound diagonally against his lower chest by tight denim jeans, pressed against my stomach.
I slid one hand up his black t-shirt, which sported a picture of a nine-tailed kitsune, and scraped my nails against his back.
He with drew from my mouth, "Ahh! Shit... I'm... I'm not ready for that."
I frowned. "Alright. I'll play nice." I smiled. "Nice contact lenses. You've got permanent red-eye, heh."
"Thanks," he said. "You're as beautiful as always."
In the distance, someone yelled, "Hey, the dykes are doing it again!"
We both burst into laughter, and I noticed that even his laugh was darker.
"You weren't at church. How much damage have I done?" I whispered.
"A lot," he said passionately, and then dove back toward my mouth.
It was the same long nose poking into my cheek, breathing warmly against it. They were the same slender hands protectively wrapped around my back.
His shirt smelled like hemp and... cigarette smoke?! A tear ran down my cheek, and I bet he could feel it against his nose. I knew Reverend Archvale kept a loch of hemp in his office, and so I pushed some of my worries into the back of my head.
He could feel pain from my touch, if I chose to hurt him, and that bothered me. I needed to make things up to him. I needed to reverse the malignant changes I had caused in him. For I knew I could... and would... pull him out of this depression that had clearly gotten worse. Something seemed to empower me, as I hugged him closely.
I was safe, secure, and loved. We were together again, CJ and I.
But I decided to continue my plans anyways.
It can't hurt, can it?