Something Wicked This Way Comes Chapter 2 free porn video

Something Wicked This Way Comes Chapter 2 It was early, very early. Despite the heat Ryan shuddered, thinking how cold it would be later in the year. In December and January when there was frost and snow on the ground. His mother had gotten up and, blurry eyed, given him a hug. Jack's bedroom door had stayed closed. He looked over at the trees on the other side of the road. There was a slight breeze that caused the tops to sway gently. "You ready Ry-Teag... er kiddo?" He looked around to see his dad. He looked cheerful enough despite bags under his eyes. How long would that last? The school was a town over from his work. An extra hour each way, each day. "Teagan is fine." The original Teagan had been his great, great, possibly great again grandma. She'd come over from Ireland during the Easter Uprising after, according to family legend, she'd gotten knocked up by a British soldier. Which was better than his mother's first choice. Sara. There were five Saras - four with a 'h' and one without - in his grade alone. Really, he chose Teagan by looking in the yearbook. None in his grade or on either side. After an argument, his mother relented. Now Teagan was a shell Ryan could live inside. He pulled at his skirt. "Do I really have to wear this?" "Muirwood is a prep school, the uniform is non-negotiable," his father smiled, although his eyes showed concern. "I know... but why a skirt? We were there. You saw. Most of the girls wear pants." "Your mother thought it was best," his dad mumbled before getting in the car. He didn't explain any further. Sitting down in the passenger seat, Ryan quickly checked his reflection in the mirror. He brushed his hair behind his ears, then worried they looked big. It still felt funny to feel hair brushing against his neck. "Looking good," his dad smiled at him. "Sorry." He must have caught Ryan's expression. "I'm not sure what to say here." "Sure." He felt bad seeing his dad's shoulders slump. "Tell me about it." As they pulled out of the driveway, Ryan ran a finger along the top of his eyebrow. He could still feel the stitches and had to glance in the mirror to reassure himself that the scar was no longer visible. They were silent until half way when they stopped at Dunkin' Donuts so his dad could get coffee. The girl at the window, cute and somewhere in her early twenties, cooed over his 'adorable' uniform causing him to turn bright red, making his dad laugh. --- Ryan hated everything. He hated his uniform. Not only did it make him feel exposed and vulnerable, it was proof she'd lied to him, the other girls did wear pants. He hated the shoes and the way they pinched, the thin material of his shirt and the way the blazer was too big, making him feel like he was ten. He hated his haircut. The way the hairdresser had described his hair as 'dirty blond' and suggested he get highlights. How he had to spend a full ten or more minutes brushing it every day. And how the new shampoo he was supposed to use left it shiny and smelling like flowers . The material of the skirt swished against his bare legs, a constant reminder as he walked down the corridor. Eventually, he stopped and struggled to get his iPad out of his backpack. A couple of older girls walked past. The nearest to him bumped into his arm nearly making him drop it. He looked up in time to see her laugh, then turn away. He especially hated being smaller than everyone again. Not that he'd been especially tall at Middle School, just average. But since the change, he'd stopped growing, just at the point everyone was shooting up. Not that he could fairly blame the school for that, although he was willing to give it a go. After a few minutes trying to remember his pass code, he gave up and rummaged around for the worn scrap of paper he'd been checking since orientation day. The letters and number made no sense to him. "E-excuse me," he stammered at two girls walking past. They stopped and gave him a look that suggested he ranked just about murders, rapists and celebrities with weight issues in their eyes. The first girl, who was tall and had long shiny hair, sighed. "What?" "D-do you know where Red 311 is?" He stared at his piece of paper, half expecting it to have betrayed him. The two girls exchanged glances, suggesting he wasn't the first to ask. The second girl looked at him like he was slow and she was taking pity. "You want Red Block. That's down the hall and to the right. Keep going, then through the double doors." He started to say thank you but they'd already set off. Pulling his backpack up, he set off. Every time he walked past a group of girls they'd fell silent and watched him. What he hated the most was the laughter that broke out once he had gone past. By the time he found his first classroom he was a full ten minutes late. The teacher and all the students turned and watched him as he came in. "Can I help you?" The teacher was relatively young, but her manner was stern. "Er, I think I'm supposed to be in this class?" He couldn't look her in the eye, instead focusing his gaze on the computer on her desk. From the corner of his eye, he could make out some of the girls whispering together. "You think? Philosophy isn't until junior year," she said, crossing her arms, to the titters of the girls. "What does your schedule say?" He held out the piece of paper to her. She just looked at it for a moment. Its dog eared corners, the creases and folds that threatened to soon become tears. After what felt like forever, she took it from him. "Ah, Ms Koopman. Finally, we meet. Please take a seat." Ryan scanned the room quickly and decided on a place at the end of one of the rows. The girl he sat down next seemed to almost recoil from him. There were fifteen minutes before the next period started. At least this time he knew where he was going, having remembered that part of the school from orientation. There was a bathroom nearby, he figured he could wait out a few minutes in there. The bathrooms were empty so he picked a stall and shut the door. Pulling out his phone, he started checking his social media. It wasn't until he got to Instagram that he found what he was after. A picture posted by Miley of high school. It was a selfie where she had an arm around a girl he didn't recognize. Somewhere behind them, he could see a blurry third of Logan's face. He stared at it for a while. Then he looked up Logan's profile. No new posts. He tried Twitter, nothing. In desperation, he even tried Facebook - they had set it up for a class project last year - but found nothing. He started composing a PM, 'Hy Low, hwz it hngn????' He read it through once before deleting the whole thing. Then the bell rang. Putting his phone away, he realized he had tears running down his cheeks. One tear had reached his lips. He could taste the salt and feel its warmth on his lips. Luckily he'd resisted his mom's efforts to get him to wear makeup. He'd been able to argue, fairly, that it was against school rules. Cheeks wiped, he left the stall, only to be surprised to find a girl looking in the mirror. Through the reflection, he watched her give him a thin smile. He recognized her, she'd been on the orientation. Which meant she was new this year as well. The girl was tall for their age. She had long dark brown hair cut with bangs and a round face. She didn't say anything as he splashed water over his face. He wondered if she was expecting him to talk but said nothing, and left as soon as he was done. The last two periods of the day were taken up with double biology. The school had an actual lab, one fitted out with what looked like up to date equipment. The room was split into large tables, all of which faced the front. The different cliques had started filling them out. His eyes darted nervously between them, wondering which he should try and join. In the end, he spotted the smallest one. There were two girls he didn't know talking to each other and the girl from the bathroom. Taking a deep breath he went over. "Hi," he said nervously. He'd spoken so quietly he was surprised when she responded, "Er, hi." She gave him the same faint smile as before. There was something a little dreamy about her expression. "Is it OK if-" And he looked hopefully at the seat next to her. She just shrugged. Grateful, he sat down. As he got out his iPad, he noticed that she had already arranged about twelve pens and pencils on the desk. All he had in his bag was an old ballpoint pen from TDBank and a pencil that seemed to be permanently blunt. As the teacher came in, the class fell silent. He was one of the few younger men who worked at the school. --- In most of his classes, he'd perfected to art of staying quiet. If he was a superhero, he'd be the Amazing Invisible Girl-Boy-Thing. But, so long as the teacher stayed in the the class, or they didn't have a substitute (god forbid), he could survive it. It only became a problem when he had to move between classes. The halls were loud and lawless, just like at middle school. But at least at middle school he knew who he was and what he was doing. Here, everything was... different. He'd walk down the halls and see girls talking. As he passed, they'd go silent and look away. The absences of looks that told him he'd been the subject of speculation only seconds before. They turned his stomach into knots and made him miss the physical violence of Charlie Hansen. --- He had to run to get to his next class. Luckily, he had Harper in the previous class and this one, so he could hide in her slipstream. Harper was surprisingly fast and Ryan struggled to keep up. No one had told him how difficult it was to move around in a skirt. The uniform skirt was either long, and kept catching his knees when he tried to move quickly or short, which left him constantly frightened that he'd inadvertently reveal too much. He missed his pants and shorts. And pockets. Girl pants, he discovered, either had no pockets, or had pockets that served no real purpose, other than to hold little bits of lint. Lost in thought, and trying desperately to keep his books and files together by holding them close to his chest, he didn't look as he turned the corner. "Shi... sorry!" He'd just crashed into the back of someone wearing all yellow. His mouth fell open as the adult turned around. "No problem, kid. Just look where you're going next time." Two broad grins met Ryan. One real, one painted on. "I will." Ryan couldn't help but stare. Harper grabbed his arm. "Come on, we'll be late!" She pulled him forward. Ryan just stared at the man. Harper tugged this time, temporarily pulling him off balance. As they walked away, Ryan turned his head to keep looking at him. "Um, Harper, is there some weird tradition here?" He looked urgently at her. "Like what?" Harper gave him a strange look. "Like the staff wears costumes sometimes or something?" "Are you OK?" she asked with a mix of concern and fear. "It's just-" He looked closely at her face, was she messing with him? "The guy back there...the maintenance guy." At least that's what he thought the man was. He was starting to doubt his own eyes. "The guy in the clown suit." Harper frowned. "Just because he works with his hands doesn't mean you should be cruel," she said, pursing her lips. Then, she dismissed his faux pas. "I think he lives over there," pointing off towards the ball fields. She then went off on a tangent about the up and coming soccer tryouts. For a moment, Ryan stopped to picture the staff at his old school living there. He glanced back. The maintenance man caught his eye, pulled out a string of handkerchiefs from a breast pocket and waved them at him. Ryan turned around quickly and caught up to Harper. --- Fall in New Jersey, which meant another one of those storms that the meteorologist on Channel 12 called unseasonable. Although they kept happening every Fall. The rain beat against the window as Ryan prayed for Harper to shut up. He liked her, but his nerves were pulled tight from the waiting. Recently she'd taken to waiting with him in one of the empty class rooms. His dad was getting later and later in picking him up. He'd overheard him telling his mom that Mr Reed was riding his ass over something or other. When he did turn up, his eyes were usually red, with bags under them. "When my dad used to come to visit me at my old school, he would take me shopping." He just shrugged. "I bet that's what you'll do. You walk around the mall and all you see is dads walking with their daughters so they don't have to actually talk to them. But, it's really cool. My dad buys me so much more than she," Ryan realized that 'she' was Harper's mother, who she only called 'Jennifer' or 'she,' never 'mom,' "ever would. You should totally do that, get some really cute outfits. Y'know, you could look really good in some different clothes?" Ryan had gotten used to the way everything she said sounded like a question. He couldn't help notice the inference. He was wearing his old Giants sweatshirt over his school uniform. He'd owned it since before the change. It was now too baggy on him...except in his chest. "OW!" he yelled. "Sorry." There was a little whine in Harper's voice as she attacked his hair with a brush. "But you keep moving." His hair was a mess from the cross country run earlier and he hadn't wanted to shower. No one told him how much effort he had to spend every day on it. It was like some weird secret, although he was unsure who was keeping it from who? "Knock, knock." Scarlett's sarcastic voice made them both look up. She was leaning against the door frame, her arms folded. Somehow her expression managed to convey the amount of shame she thought they should be feeling right then. "What?" He inadvertently pushed Harper away, inwardly sighing at the hurt look on her face. Scarlett looked him up and down. "Your daddy's here." She gave him another once-over. He knew he was being judged and failing, he just didn't know what for. "He called me unexpectedly, he had to stay late..." Ryan mumbled. It was nearly eight on Friday and he just wanted to get away from this place. "There's a thing. At work." His voice trailed off. Harper edged towards him a little. Her hand fell on his arm for a few seconds before she pulled it away. For a moment he stared at where it had been. She led him from the empty classroom to the foyer. They passed a few of the other girls who looked at him but said nothing. "He's in Mrs. Kinsella's office." Noticing Ryan's look of confusion, she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Down the hall, second door on the left. It says 'Mrs. Kinsella.' Think you can find it or do you need a guide?" He hoped none of the other girls heard. "T-thanks," he stammered, but she was already gone. "Hi, ch...sweetie." It sounded cheerful, but weird and practiced. His dad had always called him 'champ,' for as long as he could remember. Now he was sweetie. He saw the look on Mrs. Kinsella's face and assumed they had been talking just before he came in. "Hey." He wanted a hug but knew this wasn't the place. He just stared. "So, uh, Teagan." He assumed Mrs. Kinsella knew the situation. "How was class?" "Um, good." He found himself staring at the floor. "We can talk in the car." He felt Mrs. Kinsella looking at him. "Sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean anything by that. I mean everything is fine but I figured we should get going." She just smiled at them and wished them a good night. The storm had died down but they still had the road to themselves. Ryan watched the trees pass by. He could see his dad's reflection in the window. Mostly he stared forward but occasionally he'd glance over. Each time he did, Ryan felt a moment of panic. He had the sense he was about to say something. They got off in East Windsor. "Are you hungry? It's probably too late to wait till we get home." Ryan shrugged. "Sure, OK." His father smiled. "Great, there's a diner I go to when I'm down here at the project." 'The project' was some engineering contract, Ryan didn't know what, at one of the corporate campuses that were near Princeton. When he was little, he used to brag about how his dad worked on top secret projects, until Logan pointed out that no one cared. "The fries are great," he said with forced cheer. The rain was still strong enough to soak him through on the short walk between the car and the dinner. He turned his head slightly to protect his eyes. To his left was a line trees. The branches swayed in the wind looking as if they were trying to warn them. Inside was warm and bright. "Booth or counter?" the hostess asked. Before Ryan could say anything, his father replied. "Counter. H... she used to love sitting at the counter, and spinning on the stool. Remember?" When I was five, Ryan thought. "Um, sure." The hostess looked at them and smiled. The waitress came over. "Jason! How's everything? I haven't seen you in a while." He smiled. "The project's been winding down, Angelina," he offered. "They're running me ragged elsewhere." The plastic and metal of the stool felt cold through Ryan's leggings. He was getting used to having to keep his legs together, but still found it frustrating. "Tell me about it." She looked around and smiled. "Who's this?" Ryan felt his cheeks burning red as Angelina looked at him directly. She was a middle aged woman, attractive although her uniform looked worn and there were bags under her eyes. He felt his dad go quiet. Who was he? After what felt like forever. "Angelina, this is." And he felt another interminable pause. "Teagan. My daughter. Teagan, this is Angelina." Angelina smiled and offered her hand. "Hi Teagan. Just call me Angie." Her smile was wide and practiced. She turned back to his dad. "I thought you had a son?" His father nodded. "That's the younger one. Teagan just started at Muirwood. I was down here and figured I'd pick her up." Angelina looked her up and down. "Muirwood. Very fancy." She turned to Jason. "Well, then, I expect a big tip," she laughed. His father laughed as well. "Sorry, Angie. She's on scholarship." He put his hand on his shoulder. Ryan felt close to crying. Another man at the other end of the counter looked up. "This is your daughter, Jason?" His face looked like an old oak table that had been varnished too many times. His father smiled. "Oh hey, Sid." Even without everything else, this felt weird. His father had this whole life here that they weren't part of. "Teagan, this is Sid. Mr..." Ryan could tell that they had probably never exchanged last names. Sid nodded. "Williamson." He offered his hand and, when Teagan put out his, he shook it lightly. The way you did... with girls. He sat down on the other side of his father, who then turned his body so Ryan couldn't quite see the older man. "Yeah she is. Teagan." "She's a pretty girl." Sid ignored Teagan's dad's blocking move. "They'll be sniffing around her soon enough, especially once she loses those sweatshirts." Sid got up and walked around, never taking his eyes off of Ryan. He felt nauseous, like he was being appraised. For purchase. No more than a couch this guy was thinking of buying. "Yes, definitely," he said. "She will definitely get some attention." Sid let out a noise that was part cough, part wheeze and arguably a laugh. Ryan looked at his dad. He sighed and put the menu down. "He doesn't mean anything by it. There's a compliment in there somewhere." Angie laughed. Although her eyes darted nervously to Ryan's dad. Sid smiled, showing teeth. "Fair enough. You take care Jason. Teagan." The way he said it made Ryan feel dirty. Like he needed a shower. Angie put her hand on Teagan's. "Sid's harmless, but always keep your eyes open, honey. So, Muirwood's all girls, right?" Sid offered one last comment. "Won't stop 'em. Wouldn'a stopped me." Ryan nodded and mumbled, "Uh huh." He wanted to turn into sand and be blow away by the wind. He thought that maybe he'd call Logan when he got home, see what he was doing. Anything was better than here. From the other end of the counter he could hear Sid mumbled something about just talking and it was a free country and he knew his first amendment rights. "Do you know what you want?" Angie smiled brightly. Ryan ordered a cheese omelette with salad on the side. It seemed like something a girl would order while still being filling. His dad ordered a burger. "Go find a booth," Angie smiled. "I'll bring it to you." Sid grunted as they moved away but thankfully didn't follow them. Once they'd picked a booth near the back, his dad mumbled something about needing the bathroom and shuffled away. Ryan got out his phone, glad of an excuse not to look up and see if Sid or any of the other customers were looking. A few minutes later, Angie came over and refilled his dad's coffee. She put an elaborate looking drink down in front of him. "You like banana?" Ryan nodded. "Good. Banana milkshake," she whispered. "on the house." Ryan stared at it, almost as if he thought it was going to bite. Angie smiled. "Don't worry about calories, Teagan. Not yet. You have the rest of your life for that." She leaned over the table wiping it down with a cloth. Ryan did his best not to stare at her chest, thinking about how Sid had just been staring at his. "Develop some curves before you start worrying about bumps in the road," she said, patting her butt. "T-thanks." He wished his hair wasn't such a mess. Angie's voice went back to a whisper. "Sid is harmless, trust me. He just wants everyone to think he's still a player. Like he was back in the stone age," which made Ryan laugh, in spite of himself. Ryan saw his dad heading back to the table. "You'll be OK. Your dad's a good guy. He'll stop the ones who need stopping." Ryan went back to wanting to crawl under the table. Ryan looked over at where Sid was eating his burger. The sight reminded him of their old dog Duffy. The one that died when Jack was three. He'd lost most of his teeth and had to gum his food into submission. "Um, thanks," he mumbled. Realizing he was staring at the table again, he looked up and tried out a smile. She touched his shoulder and smiled back at him. Clearly she thought she'd imparted some ancient female wisdom to him. "If you need something, just say so," Angie said, as she touched his shoulder again and then left. --- "Go away." Ryan pulled the cover further over his head. He groaned as he heard his mom opening the curtains, letting the grey light in. "I'm tired." "Your friend is here." He heard her heading back towards the door. "Friend?" This made him poke his head out from under the cover. He was still refusing her suggestion of tying his hair in a ponytail during the night. As such, his vision was obscured by a mass of hair. "Logan?" Logan hadn't been over since. Well, not in a long time. When he saw him, it was when Ryan biked over to him. He told himself it was to avoid the watchful eye of his mother. "No." There was a brightness in her voice. Ryan suspected she was plotting something. "Miley." "Oh..." Miley was OK, he guessed. His mother yanked the covers off of him. "I hope you're nicer to her than that." "Fine," he heard himself whine, a voice he thought was starting to sound like a chipmunk. "Go away! Let me get dressed." "It's nothing I haven't..." She took a deep breath. "It's nothing I don't have myself." The stark statement of fact unnerved Ryan. Usually, they avoided the topic. He picked his Giants sweatshirt off the floor. His mother stared at him. "What!" he protested. "At least splash some water on your face," she wrinkled her nose, "and maybe put on some deodorant." Grumbling he slouched off to the bathroom. Staring into the mirror he examined his face. Anything below was still too much for him to contemplate on a non-school day. How had he gotten so many freckles? He'd spent as much of the long hot summer as possible inside playing computer games. At least there, he could pick the character he wanted to be. Could you get freckles from staring at a screen? His hair was a mess, but there was no hiding how healthy it looked. He ran his fingers through it, making it look like he had bedhead like the models Harper had shown him. He cringed at the thought of what that implied. Yet more feelings for him to push down. Ten minutes later, after several largely failed attempts to flatten his hair he headed downstairs. As he reached the bottom of the stair, he heard Miley speaking to his mom. "It's fine," he heard Miley say. "I mean, I hate the jocks and cheerleaders, but..." His mom interrupted, laughing. "Oh, it never changes. They all think that they have the world at their feet...and some do...for now." He hadn't heard his mom sound this relaxed since forever. Is that what she wanted for him? "Here she is." His mom actually smiled at him. Miley at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed. It sounded to Ryan like she was purposefully emphasizing the 'she.' "Hey." Ryan did his best to smile. "Hey, uh, Teagan," Miley looked at Ryan's mom for reassurance. The smile didn't leave his mom's face but, for just a moment, he saw fear flicker in her eyes. "I figured I'd see if you wanted to hang out." He was tired, but before he even think of a response, his mom said. "That sounds great. Why don't I drive you two to the mall?" A note of desperation entered her voice. "Honestly Miley, my daughter would spend all her time on that damn computer if I let her." Ryan winced at the use of 'daughter'. Miley looked at his mom, and then at him. "It's fine, Mrs. Koopman. I'm really into Fortnite and Teagan hasn't been able to play since she started at Muirwood." Which she said in a snobby accent. Before his mom could say anything, Miley grabbed his hand. "Come on, my game is starting." When they got into his room, Miley grinned at him. "Oh God, what is her problem? Mall? Mall? Mall! And I thought Janice had issues...." She said her mother's first name with such venom that he nearly hugged her. He sat on the bed while she sat in the gaming chair that his parents had bought him for Christmas a couple of years ago. She looked around the room. "OK, we need to do something about this place..." "What?" He tucked his legs under him without thinking. "It's a total boy cave. It smells almost as bad as my brother's room. I'm surprised she hasn't painted it pink while you were at school." He felt himself turn red. "Stop. You'll give her ideas." Miley laughed. "Totally. With a big canopy bed. And stuffed animals. It would be soooooo cute." Laughing despite himself, he moved off the bed and onto his desk chair. "Shut up! Anyway, are we going to play?" She powered everything up. "Let's see if they're on yet." He watched her face bathed in the light of the screen. After a few minutes, he saw names popping up on the screen. Her 'crew.' "They aren't from Roosevelt," their old school, "are they?" He hated the way his voice wavered, giving away his nerves. "Just Katie, you remember Katie?" "Sure." He edged the chair towards her, their legs almost touching. "How could I forget." Katie had long black hair and a mother who his dad called a 'Deadhead.' Katie was obsessed with gymnastics and once gave Nicky M a black eye when he'd tried pulling her bra strap. "It'll be fine." She didn't look at him. "Use a different name if you want. No one will know it's you. Not that they'd care." She started typing and he yelled. "Fuck you. Stop!" The character name she chose for him? Princess Unicorn FairyDust. Elbowing her, he tried to move her aside. He wasn't successful, she'd grown and he hadn't. After a few seconds, she grinned and handed him the controller, which only emphasized the fact that she was much stronger. "Here you go, your highness. Knock yourself out." After giving her a death stare (which only made her laugh) he chose 'TK'. He'd have preferred 'RK' but feared Katie would figure it out. Half an hour later, his mother came up with cookies and orange juice. "I wish you two would go do something." Ryan protested. "We are doing something. Just because we're not doing something you would do, doesn't mean we aren't doing something." He hated the way his hair brushed his neck when he turned to look at her. Miley, who had gone to the bathroom, stood behind her, making faces, trying to get Ryan to laugh. "Regardless, you'll play your game for another half an hour and then we'll have lunch. Then, we'll take Miley home." She turned to Miley and said, "Sorry, but we have to get Teagan's brother from soccer practice." Then back to Ryan. "On second thought, you, young lady, need to shower." After she'd left the room Miley looked at him thoughtfully. "Whoa, bitch alert!" She sat on the edge of his desk, right next to him. "How old does she think you are, four?" Ryan mumbled something, and she continued. "So Teagan? Where did that come from?" "My great great or something grandmother. She came over from Ireland after some British soldier got her pregnant. At least that's what they say. I chose it." Miley smiled. "Cool. There's hope for you yet. Now, go shower while I finish the game." Before getting in he'd sent a text to Logan, 'Wt u up 2?' Immediately after he'd sent it, he felt lame. His mother had left clothes for him. The dress she'd made him pick out (he'd only done so after many hours at the mall and in desperation to leave the store) and a pair of spandex shorts. Her idea of a concession. The water felt good, and if he closed his eyes he could pretend everything was OK, if just for a few minutes. When he returned to his room Miley looked him up and down. "You look really cute. Sorry. But you do." She frowned, as if angry at him for making her compliment him. Lunch was sandwiches and awkward talk between Miley and his mom about the latest episode of Real Housewives. He took the opportunity to check his phone. His mom gave him a reproachful look, but it didn't matter. There was no response. The ride over was fine. Miley talked about her new high school. It sounded great, at least to his ears. No uniforms. Guys to talk to. He had to stop himself asking if she'd seen much of Logan. Then they picked up Jack and a couple of his teammates. Jack had grown over summer and was close to overtaking Ryan. A thought that was worse than having boobs to Ryan. And his friends, both a year or so older were already much bigger than Ryan and Miley. The 'girls' were forced to squish in together. And Miley had to stop talking as 'the boys' gave a loud, blow by blow account of their game. He could see his mother's eyes in the rear view mirror. Every now and then she'd glance at him and smile. Was she happy he'd been pushed to this? He regretted the dress, since the red haired kid with the huge Adam's apple kept glancing at his legs. As she got out, Miley turned and thanked Ryan's mom. Without really thinking, Ryan added, "Yeah, thanks Diana," mimicking Miley's earlier use of 'Janice'. He wasn't sure what made him feel more satisfied, the grin on Miley's face or the brief look of hurt he caught in his mother's eyes. As they drove off the adrenaline that had pushed him to his little revolt faded. He felt stupid and guilty. His mother had only been trying to get him to make a friend. And the dress was no worse than the uniform he wore all week. He rested his head against the window. The rhythm of the car soothed the headache that was starting to develop. He stared out of the window, trying to pretend that he didn't notice the redhaired kid was staring again. As they neared home his phone buzzed. Feeling weirdly giddy with excitement, he saw Logan's name a the top of a text. 'Gd, U? Prty nxt wknd. Prep week!!!!!!! U up 4 it?' Ryan had read it through three times before they pulled into the driveway. --- Ryan regretted the jeans he'd picked. Getting out of Logan's dad's car wasn't easy. Only a very special mind could come up with a pair of jeans that were even less practical than skirts and dresses. "Thanks Mr Dumas," he mumbled, not able to look him in the eye. "No worries, Ryan... I mean Teagan." He tried to hide his embarrassment by turning to Logan. "I'll pick you both up at eleven. Be ready. I don't want to have to honk and bother the neighbors. Don't be late." Logan nodded. His dad shot Ryan an embarrassed look. "And take care of your friend. OK?" Ryan watched the car drive away. He didn't know why he had to be 'taken care of.' Logan gently picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulders. "Sorry," Logan stuffed his hands in his pockets, "you know he's always been embarrassing." "Uh huh." Ryan wasn't sure what he meant. "So's mine." It was still a short walk to the house. He'd dropped them around the corner as Logan had wanted to be sure no one saw his dad. "Soooo," Logan suddenly seemed very interested in what his feet were doing. "I've only told them about Teagan, not Ryan. That cool?" He just nodded. It was for the best he supposed. "There's no one from Roosevelt, right?" "No one." Logan finally looked up and grinned. "They all went to Whitman. That's the best part. It's just a few friends kicking back. Playing some D&D." Ryan groaned. D&D hadn't been mentioned. Why would you play board games when you had the computer and XBox? Board games reminded him of being forced to play long, fractious games of Monopoly with Jack when they were little. The door was answered by a middle aged woman who was carrying a baby with one arm.. "Are you one of Elliot's friends?" she asked. Logan nodded. They chatted for a while and Ryan zoned out. His attention only came back when he realized she was looking him up and down. He tried his best to smile, but found his eyes falling to the floor. "They're downstairs," the woman said, as she stepped aside. Instinctively, Ryan wanted to stick his hands in his pockets, only there were none worth speaking of. He ended up doing a motion that looked like he was rubbing the front of his pants. Again the woman gave him a funny look. He let his hair fall in front of his eyes and followed behind Logan as quickly as he could. There were a few people milling around as they came down the stairs. Ryan counted five, two of which were girls. One small but round with dyed pink hair, another Asian in a Joy Division t-shirt. A tall boy greeted Logan. "Hey, you made it." A pause and a grin. "and so did your friend." Logan surprised him by stepping to one side, leaving him open to the group. "Er, hi." He gave them a little wave and wanted to die. "Hey." The pink haired girl stepped forward and thrust out her hand. It felt oddly formal for a group of 14 year olds. "My names Mary and this is Alice." She indicated towards the Asian girl who smiled and looked a little uncomfortable. Ryan smiled back, glad he wasn't the only uncomfortable one. "It's good to have another woman in the group." "Yeah, it was getting like a sausage fest in here," said a large boy with short, greasy hair. "Ha ha Gus," Mary said deadpan. Gus looked chastised and mumbled something. After a minutes, the boy who had greeted them started again. "So, anyway. I'll do the introductions. Mary here, she's my sister." "We're twins." Mary nodded solemnly. "Just not identical, obviously." When she'd finished Elliot continued. "Alice and Gus you've met. I'm Elliot, and this," he pointed to the last boy, a kid with curly black hair, "is Hands." "Hans?" "Hands." Elliot shook his head. "Show her, Hands." Hands lifted up his huge hands with their meaty fingers. "Ah," said Ryan, not knowing what else to say. He was still taking in what his friend considered to be a highschool party. Elliot looked at Logan, half-eagerly, half-dubiously. "Did you manage to bring anything?" "Sure." And this time Logan gave a genuine smile. He took the bag off his back and took out what looked like two large bottles of soda. Although the labels said cream soda, Ryan guessed they were something more. "Beer," Logan explained, "I had to put it in these so mom and dad wouldn't figure it out." The other began showing what they'd gotten their hands on. Gus had four cans of beer. He'd been taking one out the fridge each time his dad had bought a pack over the last couple of weeks. Alice had a three quarters full bottle of wine. Hands announced he'd only brought chips (to groans from the others). Mary had a bottle of white wine and four beers, which she said her older sister had gotten for her. It was Elliot who had the winning entry. A full bottle of vodka. The label just read 'Russian Vodka' and the logo looked like the cover of one of Jack's book reports. Still it impressed, and each member of the group took time to hold it, turning it around in their hands. "Sorry, I didn't know... Otherwise I'd have brought something..." Ryan mumbled. "Don't worry." Alice smiled at him. "Logan brought enough for both of you. You're more than covered." They sat around the table. Elliot, the evening's Dungeon Master, began explaining the scenario he'd set up. Ryan didn't pay much attention until it got around to the characters. This at least he was looking forward to. He'd been toying with creating a barbarian warrior. "So, thanks to everyone for emailing me your characters." Ryan's heart started to sink. "Teagan, we created something for you." Elliot passed him a sheet of paper. Taking a deep breath, he looked at it. An Elf ranger. He sighed, talent magic and concealment. Strength low. Worse still, she was clearly female. Alice, who was sat next to him leaned over and whispered. "Be thankful we were here." She nodded towards Mary who was in between Elliot and Hands. "They originally wanted to make you a princess." He groaned and rolled his eyes. They played for a couple of hours straight. After the initial embarrassment wore off, he actually started to enjoy himself. The beer helped as well, after the initial nausea. He did notice that every time his character got into trouble, Logan jumped in. After about the third time, it was getting irritating. It was Mary who stopped first. She stretched her arms out and yawned. Which made all the boys look and Ryan feel oddly annoyed. "How about we try the vodka?" Ryan made a noise that was something like a giggle. It caused him to clamp a hand over his mouth. How much had he had? No more than three cups worth, maybe four? Mary looked at her and smiled. There was something there in her expression he wasn't sure of. "Who's up for a different game?" Mary looked around the group. Elliot looked annoyed. "We're not even halfway through. I spent hours preparing..." "And we appreciate it. But, we can finish it another time..." There were a few grunts of agreement. "What about Teagan, she might not be able..." Mary turned to him. "Teagan, you can hang out again next weekend can't you?" He felt shock at being the center of the group again. He looked around everyone's faces, they all seemed eager. Logan especially. It'd been so long since he'd felt welcome some place, he felt giddy. He didn't want to be forced to take sides, but Mary had backed him into a corner. "Sure." He could feel his face turn red. Hands grunted through his nose. "Well sure. But we're here to play D&D. What exactly do you want to play?" For the first time Mary looked unsure. "Um, spin the bottle?" She glanced over at Alice for support. "Maybe. Could be fun," Logan glanced at him nervously. For the first time, Ryan began to understand why he was here. Three girls and four guys. Better odds that four against two. There was silence as the group looked between each other. "We don't have a bottle." Hands spoke loudly, as if he'd brilliantly unmasked the flaw in their play. Alice, who always spoke softly, but somehow still managed to command the attention of everyone. "We could pour the wine into cups then use that." How far had they planned ahead? Had Alice and Mary enlisted Logan in their conspiracy? Somehow he couldn't picture Logan as the mastermind. "I'm not kissing a guy," Hands blurted out. Everyone laughed. "You know, homophobes are super gay," Alice laughed. "That doesn't make any sense." This time Mary joined in. "Come on Hands, think about it. Who are the only two groups of people who think about two men having sex all the time? Gay guys and homophobes pretending not to be gay." This went on for a while with Hands protesting so hard, Ryan started to think there might be something in the girl's theory. It only ended when Hands had gone completely red in the face, and Elliot had to warn them his mom was upstairs and could come down at any point. Elliot, Hands, Alice and Tom took a corner each and carefully maneuvered the table to one side. At the same time, Logan found an old rug rolled up against the wall and spread it across the floor. As they did this Mary and Ryan stood to one side. Ryan was picking at the dead skin around his nails. Mary noticed. "Hey, don't be nervous," she whispered. "I-I'm not nervous." All the alcohol was making him feel hot. She nudged him in the ribs. "You'll get a kiss. I'm sure of it." Her voice went even lower. "I've seen the way they've been looking at you." Great, that made him even more nervous. Now he needed to pee. Again she looked at him shrewdly. "I mean, is there someone specific you want to kiss?" They were cut short by the others re-joining them. The first spin went to Mary as the instigator of the game. She seemed confident. The bottle ended on Elliot. A groan spread around the group. Gus made a sound like he was vomiting. She spun again and got Logan. Ryan had to lean back to let them kiss. He was close and could feel their breath. The touch of Logan's arm brushing against his. Then it was over. Next was Elliot's turn. He spun and it landed on Gus. With everyone, apart from Hands, laughing, they made an exaggerated play of kissing and cuddling. Ryan laughed so much that bubbles came out of his nose. Logan passed him a tissue. When it was Ryan's turn, he had to kiss Gus. Gus was on the other side of the circle so, feeling incredibly embarrassed, he crawled across. Thankfully Gus went for just a peck and Ryan could pull back quickly. Sitting back down, he noticed Elliot and Logan were sniggering. Confused, he turned to Mary who rolled her eyes. "My ape brother and your useless friend were staring at your ass." Burning with embarrassment, Ryan whacked Logan on his arm who let out a satisfying, "Ow." A few turns later and Mary spoke up again. "OK, we're not in seventh grade anymore. How about we make this serious?" Quiet fell across the room. Mary pointed towards a curtained off area at the back of the basement. Ryan had assumed Elliot and Mary's parents used it for storage. "How about we play seven minutes in heaven. If the bottle lands on you, you and your partner." There were snickers at the word 'partner'. "have to go behind the curtain for seven minutes. And no, Hands, you don't have to do it with a boy... unless that's what you want." Everyone looked at everyone else. No one wanted to be the one to chicken out. Alice went first. The bottle stopped on Elliot. They both looked at each other, their expressions serious. Without speaking, they both got up and walked over to the curtain. In an oddly affecting gesture, Elliot held it open for Alice. Ryan had expected there to be laughter and taunts, but everyone was quiet. Perhaps working out that their turn was next. Mary kept time with the timer on her phone. Ryan could see over her shoulder that she'd let it run a lot longer than seven minutes. When she did call time, the pair reemerged holding hands. Their faces bright red and smiles on their lips. Ryan suddenly felt a pang of jealousy. He'd heard rumours that you could fix the bottle to land on who you wanted. Seeing how pleased with herself Mary looked, he wondered if this had been the whole plan from the beginning. Next it was Logan's go. Ryan's heart pounded at the bottle started to slow down. Somehow, he knew it was going to land on him. He looked around to see his friend's face looking as bright red as it could. He felt panic rise. Would Logan freak out, tell them who he really was so he wouldn't had to go through with it? Logan stood up awkwardly thrusting his hands into his pocket. Ryan was sure he was about to run, forcing him to explain what had happened to the others. Logan held a hand out for him. As he stood up, his head spun. They walked to the curtains. Then they were there. There they were. Then Logan was pulling them back and he was going through. None of it seemed real. The space was about what he imagined. An old boiler, some shelves packed with cardboard boxes and the such. They both turned to see Mary pull the curtains closed behind them. "So... I'm sorry... I didn't mean..." Ryan felt strange. There was a fluttering in his stomach and, at first, he thought he was about to be sick. The feeling reminded him of when he'd taken swimming lessons. He'd never been good at sports but his dad had been taking him swimming since he was a baby. Apparently his technique was good because they put him in the top class. Being there with the best swimmers. That mixture of fear that he'd fuck it up, that they'd humiliate him and leave him struggling behind them. But also excitement. Logan was just looking at him. He was a few inches taller now. His eyes, he had nice eyes. And then it all came back. The loneliness. Only having Harper to talk to at school. The long car drives with his dad trying to stay positive all the time. His mom keeping him like a prisoner under house arrest. Before he knew it he was leaning forward. Their lips were touching. Logan's hands were on his hips. Logan's hand. Logan. Hands. His hips. They pulled back just before Mary opened the curtains. It was no use. His face felt like a furnace. He could see all their eyes following them back. As they sat down, he could see the shit eating grin on Logan's face. He wanted to punch it off. About a half an hour later, Logan's dad texted that he was outside. As the night air hit Ryan's face, he realized he was drunk. His arm kept bumping against Logan's. Neither spoke. The drive wasn't great and about halfway home, Ryan had to ask Logan's dad to pull over so he could throw up. Worse still, Logan had to help him out of the car and to his front door. They stood there awkwardly trying to figure out what to say. Ryan was about to speak when the front door opened. It was his mom, and she looked pissed. "Get in here NOW, Teagan!" Then she turned to Logan. "I will call your mother tomorrow morning. Logan." Logan stared at the floor and then walked away quickly. Ryan stood there, feeling unsteady on his feet. He went to say something, although he didn't know what. Even in this state, he knew 'sorry' wouldn't work. Nor would 'nothing happened.' So, he stood there mute. Which was fine. Because his mother had more than enough to say for the both of them. "I do not understand you. I do not understand you at all. I let you go out and this is the way you act. I am very angry with you..." Ryan mumbled 'sorry,' and felt his stomach lurch. He ran to the powder room near the front door and threw up. He came out to find his father standing next to his mother. "Just where the hell did Logan take you?" His father was angry, angrier than he'd ever seen him. This unnerved Ryan. He was used to his mom being angry, but his dad had always been so calm. Ryan mumbled, "It was just a game of Dungeons and Dragons..." "A game of D & D? How stupid do you think I am? I played D & D...." His mother smiled slightly, looking at him, and then turned back to Ryan. "I will take care of this, Jason." She glared at Ryan. "Be very, very sorry that I am taking care of this and not your father, young lady." Ryan was. His mother kept looking him up and down. "Get upstairs, wash your face and go to bed. We will deal with this in the morning." Ryan stammered, 'but,' which got 'no buts, young lady. Bed! NOW! And if you throw up again, try to make it to the bathroom. So you don't have to clean it up." Ryan went upstairs and washed his face. He wanted to punch the mirror. Punch the face that looked back at him. He went to bed and passed out almost immediately. At 9:00 AM, his mother came in his room and opened the blinds. "Get up, Teagan!" Ryan mumbled, "Close the blinds. It's too bright in here." His mother snickered. "Welcome to your first hangover. It better be your last," she said, yanking back the blankets. "Now GET UP!" "I hate you..." His mother laughed again, manically. "You think you hate me now, just wait....GET UP. I am not kidding. Now, young lady!" Ryan pushed himself up, feeling every cell in his brain...and they all hurt. "So," she said, in what felt like an overly mean tone. "How are you feeling this morning?" "Awful." He got up to go pee. "My head hurts..." "Good," he heard her say through the door. He brushed his teeth, to get rid of the residual puke smell on his breath. He came out and looked around the room, seeing no signs of vomiting and being grateful for that. "Sit down." Ryan sat on the bed, as far away from her as possible, pushing his pillow to the floor to create even more room. "What happened last night? And don't lie to me. I'm trained in catching people lying." "Nothing, nothing happened." "Nothing happened? My daughter, my 14 year old daughter, comes home drunk from a party and nothing happened? On a scale of 1-10, how stupid do you think I am?" Ryan said nothing and she continued. "Answer me. How stupid?" He stared intently at the pillow on the floor, noticing the seams on the pillow case. The light blue pillow case. He tried to read the washing instructions to avoid eye contact. "I don't think you're stupid." "Then, tell me why you would say nothing happened, when clearly something did." "OK. We drank a little" "You," and she took a deep breath, "drank a little. What did you drink?" "Um, some beer..." "Some." Another deep breath. He could see her nostrils flaring as she tried to remain calm. "Beer. Where did you get beer from?" Now, it was Ryan's turn to take a deep breath. He couldn't tell. If he told, he'd have no life. Or even less of a life than he had now. But, if he didn't tell, his mom was sure to call Logan's and they'd both be in trouble. So he lied. "It was there when we got there. I don't know who bought it." "Was it in a bottle or can?" Huh? Why was she asking this? "Um, a can." "Did you see it opened? Who opened it?" Now, he was really confused. "Uh huh, but I don't remember who opened it." He did. It was Elliott but he wasn't saying anything. "Why?" "Did you drink anything else? And don't lie to me. You're in enough trouble as is. If you lie to me, I will find out and it will be exponentially worse for you." He knew she would find out. She always did. "Um, some vodka. And some wine." "Jesus Christ, Teagan!" she screamed. "Mom...Dad and Jack will hear." OK, that was stupid. Exponentially stupid, you could say. "DO YOU THINK I CARE WHO HEARS? DO YOU?" Then, only slightly less angrily. "What is the matter with you? Why would you do that? Let me guess, everyone else was and so did you." He nodded, still staring at the floor. "Did the other girls drink?" The word 'other' clanged in his ears. Before he could answer. "There were other girls there, correct? You didn't lie to me about that, did you? Or should I say Logan." And she spat his name. "Didn't lie to you." He nodded and could feel tears in his eyes, which he willed back. "Yes, Mary. And Alice. It was Mary's house..." "Look at me, Teagan." He tried to lift his head but it felt like there was a weight around it, making it impossible to lift. "I am serious. Look at me!" He lifted his head and she continued. "I do not like that you were at a party where alcohol was served..." He willed himself to look in her eyes, which looked the same as his dad's last night. "It wasn't a party. It was just Dungeons and Dragons..." His mother gritted her teeth. "Oh, excuse me for not noticing the difference," she rolled her eyes. "I do not like that you were at a Dungeons and Dragons game at which alcohol was served. But, that is not the point. Look at me. You're in trouble, deep, deep trouble, but there are things that we need to discuss first before I punish you. If you're ever at a party again where alcohol is served and you choose to do something as stupid as drink, there are rules you need to follow. First, you do not drink anything you do not see poured. Ever." Ryan mumbled, "It was Logan's friends...." His mother paused and then said, "I don't care that it was Logan's friends. Anyone can slip anything in a drink...do you know what GHB is?" Ryan shook his head. "Roofies?" He vaguely remembered something from health class, when they all sniggered about it. He shook his head again. "A roofie is a drug that people - mostly men - slip into drinks. Women's drinks. Girls' drinks. So that they pass out." She looked at him. "Do you understand why?" He did but was mute. "It's a date rape drug. A friend of mine in college. We were at a party. And she took a drink from a guy she thought was her friend..." And he saw his mother start to tear up. Without thinking, he leaned over to hug her. His mother smiled a little. "Thank you," she whispered. Ryan felt like he was going to throw up. "What, what happened?" His mother looked angry. "Nothing. Nothing happened. Maybe he would have gone to jail now. But, so what? She would still be raped. Do you understand me?" He looked at her hands. They were shaking. "But, Logan wouldn't. He's..." "I know what Logan is." Her tone leaving her opinion open. "And I don't want you to think all boys are rapists or would drug you." All. Boys. The words rang in his head. "But, there are some, enough. And that is why you never, ever, under no circumstances, take a drink you haven't seen poured..." "Uh huh." He felt suddenly aware of his body. His too skinny arms, his thighs he was sure were freakishly fat. His breasts, the ones that managed to simultaneously get in the way all the time, and be embarrassingly smaller than all the other girls in the locker room. "Teagan, I hate that we have to have this conversation. I never expected to have it and I hate that we are. But, it is very, very important that we do. You understand that, right?" He nodded. "Tell me that you understand it." He could feel the tears again. "I understand." "Good. And," and she smiled a little, "there may come a day, in the distant future, when you're in college, that you may have too much to drink..." "I won't. I promise." "Don't make promises you can't keep," she said. "But, if you do, you need to follow certain rules. You go to the party with friends, girl friends. And you leave with girl friends. And you never leave another girl behind..." Ryan mumbled OK and she continued. "And you never, ever do anything that you don't feel comfortable doing. Understand?" "I understand..." Ryan understood that he wanted to cry, throw up and kill himself, all at once. "And if you're too drunk to know whether you feel comfortable, you don't do it. No matter what he says." Ryan couldn't hold on anymore and he started to cry. His mother took him in her arms. "Shhh, honey, it's OK....shhhh." And she rubbed his back. Through his tears, he snapped, "I hate this! I hate this! I hate this!" Then, he cried some more. She kept holding him. "I know, honey. I hate it too. I hate that we have to talk about this." He pushed her away. "NO! I hate this." And he messed up his hair. "And I hate these!" And he cupped his breasts. "I hate all of this! All of this! I hate having no friends! And I hate that I can't go to Columbia like I was supposed to! I hate it!" His mother went to hug him and he pushed her away. She looked hurt. Good. He snarled at her. "I know I'm in trouble! So, why don't you just leave me alone? Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere or doing anything anymore! I'll just stay in here! That's what you want anyway. No one to see me. That's why you send me to a school, a school I hate, an hour away! And dad takes me! You don't want to see me! So don't! Leave!" "Teagan, honey, please... I don't feel that way..." Ryan fixed her with an angry stare. He had never been this angry before. Even as it was happening, it scared him. "Yes, you do. You absolutely do! Ever since it happened! Leave me alone! Please!" And he buried his face in the pillow and cried some more. "I mean it! Go away," he sobbed, through the pillow. He heard the door close. He knew this wasn't over, not by a long shot. And he knew he was in trouble. But he didn't care. He just wanted to die.