"Bizarro World: All Boys School" Victor Grissom knew he was late to Frederick Douglass Public High School for Boys, he just hoped none of his friends would make a spectacle of it. Wheeling before him, as always, his boyfriend Augustus Tramble looked irritated that he, too, would be tardy for classes, the first time it had happened since he had the chicken pox. It honestly wasn't Victor's fault they were late—his pet scorpion Tracey Richards had gotten out again, and it took time to find the little critter and convince the other Grissoms to not squish him. "I swear," lamented poor Augustus, "sometimes I really do think you like that scorpion of yours more than me." "Now, now," said Victor, playing with the older boy's dark hair, "you know very well I can't hug a scorpion, and they're not much for kissing or other fun activities." "Yeah, but if there's a crisis, you usually choose her over me." "It's because I know you can take care of yourself, Gussy-boy." Augustus snorted and resolved to not speak to his lover for most of the day. He still considered himself lucky if being tardy was the least of their worries: his brother Julius and Victor's close friend Jean were still trying to solve some "issues", and to go into that would take all day. Speaking of which... "You know Madsen's gonna fry you," said Augustus, taking his boyfriend's hand before exchanging a kiss. Victor smiled sadly. "Yeah, well, I kinda needed the extra credit, and knowing him, he'll really lay it on me in the worst way. See ya." "Yeah, bye." Victor knew he didn't have time to watch his boyfriend scurry off, so he knocked on Mr. Madsen's door and waited for it to be open. Soon, the familiar, handsome, stern face of Thomas Madsen greeted the truant, and Victor turned red. "You show this class a great discourtesy," said the half-Japanese, half-American Literature and Writing teacher, "by coming here late, Mr. Grissom. Take your seat; I'll deal with you later." Poor Victor couldn't have been more red if he had dunked his face in a can of crimson paint, so amidst stares of his classmates he shriveled into his seat. A few spared him sympathetic glances: the loveable Irish bug Gabriel O'Shannon knew what it meant to be late to Madsen's classes, Oliver Johnson greeted his old friend with a wave, Jean Bautista gave him a sad shrug, and Blake Baum... Well, three out of four wasn't bad. If only somebody had taken their meds. "I hope," said Tommy Madsen as he walked around the room, "that you all have been studying for your big Shakespeare test. I've given you every warning I know of, and I've quizzed you and pushed you well beyond the reasonable point, so now nobody has any excuses. Now since it is test time, I feel a little music's in order. Any suggestions?" "Beethoven sounds nice," suggested Lilo Nachtheim. Madsen smiled. "Ah yes, who but a German can best understand his works? Very well; you may all begin once the music starts. The test is over when it ends. Don't worry, I've chosen a long symphony." That wasn't much of a relief, but it was better than nothing. The boys all buckled down and began their test once the song played (it was the Seventh Symphony), and even the most troublesome among them didn't feel compelled to cheat. Madsen had the eyes of a hawk anyway, and he was totally merciless towards those who looked at other's answers. As Alexander Blair filled in blanks and circles, his mind drifted to his boyfriend, Ronnie Marcos. They had suffered yet another argument, this one originated by Ron himself. Alex felt bad because he had said some things he didn't mean, and he missed seeing Ronnie that morning, as he usually did. He spoke it over with Madsen, who offered his best support and words of wisdom. Funny how once upon a time, Blair had despised those awful maxims, and now he sought them out! Julius Tramble was totally focused, but last night...ugh! He successfully got it out of his head (music always was a better distraction), but he knew he would have to confront him again once it was all over. They had stayed over at his house, Jean and himself, and the two ended up, for lack of a better term, reenacting their tongue-wrestling of New Year's Eve. He didn't mean for things to turn out that way, but Jean looked so adorable with his shirt off, and he fought so hard to not touch that soft bare chest. Ugh! And now he was thinking those awful thoughts in class! So much for getting over it. Jean, for the record, was thinking of a different Julius. Lousy Caesar. "Shit," grumbled Ivan Tran as he trudged out of class. "I totally tanked that test. Madsen is gonna kill me. But how the fuck am I supposed to pay attention to Shakespearian shit like that?! It's boring!" "Aw, quit complaining," grumbled Xavier Walker, giving his soccer pal a shove. "At least you're in good condition for the next game. Thanks to my idiocy, I have to sit out a game. If Madsen's gonna kill you, then Lino is gonna kill me." "Nah, Lino's cool, and it's not like the team will die without you. We've got the incredible amazing asthmatic Kit Parkin, after all." "And we're also missing Ross cuz' of his cancer. Poor fella." Ivan moaned an agreement, and had to admit, failing a test did seem to be the least of his worries. He and X would part ways soon, one to his boyfriend and the other to his class. "Well, I better go. Ancel's expecting me." "Oh, that hot French guy? Man, I still don't know how you hooked up with a stud like him!" "Good timing, I guess. Aw, who knows; maybe it was meant to be." "...Yeah right. Later." The guys went down two different hallways, each to a brief destiny, and the clockwork of Douglass continued to grind... ...... Janelle Raulson's history class was hardly exciting, even when the Hindu gambling addict got to the "good parts", like the Crusades or the French and American Revolutions. Personally, Miron van Dijk was bored with it, and wished just for once that his teacher would talk about fantasy instead. He wanted to slump down and just sleep—he had stayed up all night watching Neon Genesis Evangelion for the sixth time—and visions of Evas, Angels (especially Kaworu!), and Instrumentality danced through his head. Now if only there were a committee like that here in the real world... "Mr. van Dijk?" said Raulson, glaring hard at the poor Dutch guy. "Are you paying attention?" "Yes, Mr. Raulson." "Then kindly outline the Panama Canal discussion for us." Uh-oh. Miron was caught. He only knew two things about the Panama Canal: it was in Panama and Teddy Roosevelt helped get it off the ground. He walked up to the board and utterly failed to satisfy his teacher. "I guess," Raulson grumbled, "you'll be needing more homework then." "But sir, my anime club is having an emergency meeting! I have to be there!" "I suggest you get your priorities straight, Mr. van Dijk," said Raulson coldly. "Graduating from this school is just a little more important than watching your shows." Miron made a fuss, but Raulson could get scary when he was really pissed like that. Since it was no use arguing, Miron glumly returned to his chair, wondering how he was going to get through this. Without him, the anime club would be in ruins! "Boy," muttered Jon Lu to himself, "that's harsh. Maybe I can help poor Miron somehow." "Mr. Lu!" "Y-yessir! A man, a plan, a canal, Panama!" "Very good, Mr. Lu. However, we are not studying palindromes." "Y-yessir." Raulson gave the flustered blonde one last gaze, then returned to his lesson. Lu felt relieved that he had dodged the bullet; Ray Zanders just rolled his eyes, wondering if his mischievous lover was ever going to grow up. When Heero Love explained the situation to his drama teacher, Elmer Post, he rubbed his chin and dove into thought. If Raulson knew just how important this anime meeting really was to Miron, he wouldn't have burdened him like that, even if he wasn't paying attention in class. There was no changing the past now, but perhaps somebody would be willing to take his place... "I really can't go," said Post. "Soma and I have a date, you know, and I don't like being late." "Oh yeah, how's it going between you two?" "Fantastic," sighed Post, staring dreamily into space. Few people in Douglass could withstand the sickening sweetness that was Elmer and Soma, and they were either very kind, very patient, or a little on the stupid side. "Oh, uh, that's great. So you're out, huh? You think I should ask Mr. Keeping?" "Oh, Abbot's always busy with his own lover. He and Tommy may as well be Siamese twins." "That's what people are saying about you and Soma, sir," remarked Yancy Montgomery. Elmer made a face and cleared his throat. "Uh, ahem. Let's move on to a different subject. Heero, I'll do Miron this favor, but I expect him to get his grades up by the middle of this month. You know that May is coming soon, and if he doesn't shape up, he'll be held back a grade." Heero understood, chewing his lip grimly until Miron actually showed up. He looked miserable, which was a terrible contrast to his happy-go-lucky attitude. "Goodness, the Dutch Dijk looks like he got dumped by Vash the Stampede," muttered Gabriel. Miron plopped down in his seat, ears and hair drooping like a horse's, and was immediately seen to by his friends. Everybody offered to help, but Miron had really set his heart on that meeting. One soul in the group, however, was brave enough to stand forth in spite of the bullying that Miron had put him through. "Hey, uh, if you can't be there, I can go. I mean, I know I'm just a new member now, but..." Miron looked up and smiled broadly at the shy face of Kim Miklos, his new crush. Kim was a beautiful but shy blonde, somebody Miron ached to know better (through one way or another!), and seeing him volunteer like that out of nowhere really lifted Miron's heart. "You'd do that?" Kim shrugged. "What, it's not like it's hard." "Ohh, thank you!!!" Miron rushed at Kim and flung his arms around the poor boy, squeezing first in thanks, then with a slight, warm feeling of lust. Mmm, so soft... "Uh, n-no problem," he stuttered, prying Miron off. Those who knew Miron knew he was a thousand times happier already—and not just for the offer—and those who did not were, suffice to say, better for the experience. ......... Lino Katajisto had Kit on the mind, but that could wait for another day: he needed to train his team, or rather, retrain. Soccer season oddly fell during April that year (it was usually an autumn sport and the change mystified Lino), and since he had already gone through the session with everyone around September, he was loathe to do it again—but winter had dulled their skills and made their joints rusty. It was back to the old drawing board, then—what else could he do? Lino's semi-secret lover Kit wanted to be more than just a good goalie and a good boyfriend to Lino; he wanted to be a good student as well, to absorb as much of Douglass as he could before graduation so he'd come out of the experience a much wiser man. He had wasted the first four years (this was his fifth since he was held back), and nearly all of this one, and was afraid the rest of the year was going by too fast for him. Playing soccer was not his long-term goal, nor was being a musician, although admittedly he was good at that. Parkin didn't know what he wanted to do with his life, but he figured he had plenty of years to find out. After all, he was turning nineteen soon. The rest of the soccer team made poor Kit look scrawny and out of place, but they loved him like a brother and supported him, since he was the weakest overall. One of their good players would be missing for the rest of the season because of the terrible testicular cancer treatments he was undergoing, and another would be out of commission due to a self-inflicted injury (Lino had pulled Xavier off to the side and spoke to him, but the matter had already been resolved and everything was cool). That left the team straggling, but there were plenty of boys in reserve. Brothers Eric and Alistair Fox volunteered to make up for Xavier, and between the two of them they could easily pass it off. After all, they were both martial artists, even the meek Eric, and they could get pretty nasty on the field, although the older Alistair was clearly the more aggressive Fox out there. It was Eric's best friend Ross who had the cancer; Eric was a brick and more to poor Mr. McKeough during this painful crisis. "It makes me sad seeing those two together," Alistair said as he and his boyfriend showered together (it was actually Oliver's idea, which was surprising). He turned around and asked, "You know why?" "I can sure guess," said Oliver Johnson calmly. "They were an item once, right? And before that, very close friends. Eric was the gay one, and Ross was not. They gravitated when Ross' girlfriend was killed in Iraq, and they came even closer when Ross found out he had cancer in his, um...family jewels. It flared, it fizzled, and lots of nonsense happened since. It breaks the heart to see Eric pining over such an unrequited love." "It breaks my heart more," murmured Alistair, turning around so he could wash his boyfriend's chest. "They were so...perfect for each other. They connected in ways I could never understand." Oliver didn't know that Alistair once had a small fling with his younger brother, but it wouldn't have changed their relationship anyway. After all, he had once made love to a man that was like a brother to him, so who was he to judge? "By the way," he asked, "is the cancer treatable?" "That's the only good thing in this mess. They found it early, and Ross has been going through some chemo. Looks fucking sexy without his hair, I must admit." "Oh, so should I go bald?" "Only if ya want to!" squealed Fox, draping his arms over the dark-skinned man. Emil McGowen didn't feel like having class that day (he just wanted to HURRY UP and go on his date with Harry already), so he showed an astronomy video he liked, featuring the voice of Patrick "Picard" Stuart. He knew it was lazy of him, but even he, the loveable eccentric scientist, had to take a day off now and then. Even in the darkness, he could see the boredom on some students' faces (Oliver looked that way all the time, for the record). Augustus and Victor were chatting quietly, Xavier was twiddling his thumbs, Zane was doodling more designs for his clothes, Arish and Blake were more into each other than the film... "I honestly can't wait till' next year," sighed McGowen to himself. "I'm just about sick of these kids." It was hard to be sick of McGowen himself (unless one were Dr. Andrews), or of his class, but that was the Catch-22. Ronnie Marcos suppressed a yawn and tried to remain focused. He already knew plenty about the solar system, but he never passed up the opportunity to watch a film. Now if only his boyfriend were here, then things would get interesting! Alexander... Ronnie sighed. He hated it when they fought—he cherished Alex so much—and already his pain was clearing his head. Why did they ever, ever fight at all—over some silly belief or system? Was it just tempers that had flared, or bad timing, or loss? He knew he needed Alex in his arms, now, and yearned for class to be over so he could run up, apologize, and smother the dear man with kisses. He had been wrong, and he was ready to admit it, if only to be around him again... "Man," sighed Rocky Knox, "this is so dull!" "Make the most of it, Rox," whispered Zane, who was sitting beside him. He gave the older man a smile and added, "Soon we'll be out of this prison and in the real world. Scary, no? You and I, man, seniors already! Does it feel like it's been four years?" "More like...four thousand. Every one more awful than the last." "Aw, why do ya say that?" said Klein with a smile. "I had some fun! I like it here in ole Freddy Douglas. Suffice to say, better here than with Petrov, right?" "He's your rival; you know him better than I do." Zane Klein smiled, and wished he could wink at Virockene Knox, just to fluster the poor boy—but Rocky's eyes were on the film, and nothing save a poke in the back would tear them off. But even this did nothing but earn Zane a little slap on the arm. Phooey. ......... Evan Rohani wondered if there would ever come a time when he could double-date with Rocky. He had been on one with Kama and Yuga, but they weren't nearly as close to him as Rocky Knox, and they were both surprisingly quiet in each other's company. Maybe it was because Kama, who had one kind of a reputation, and Yuga, who had another, could understand each other very well and didn't need to talk. Either that, or they were just shy, or worse, they simply had nothing to say. Evan sat next to Rocky during lunch, and witnessed the older man give a rare smile. Rocky smiled so infrequently these days! Evan knew it was more than just seriousness directing the man's life; Rocky had a deep, secret, inner pain that few could understand. He felt out of place in the world, which was quite believable since he had two fathers. Being left without a motherly figure in his life must've done some kind of damage to his system, and being thrust into this pit of testosterone certainly didn't make things any better. The boy needed a girlfriend, and Evan was determined to find one. "Don't bother," sighed Rocky, stirring his food around. "It's not like anyone would want to be with me anyway." "Natalie seems to like you." "Natalie is your girlfriend, Ev," pointed Knox. "I mean, she's a sweet woman, yeah, but unless she has a sister or something, I'm out of luck." "My point was that there's one girl you know of out there that likes you." "Who is considerably taken by my friend—yes, I know that." Evan frowned. From the corner of his eye, he could see, of all things, Miron and Kim sitting together. Now there was probably no way of that realistically happening, but if she knew Douglass, then she knew that Mr. Madsen was probably behind all of it. Well, good. Poor Kim needed some friends, even if they did pick on him and admire him from afar. "Let's forget about it," sighed Knox; "it only makes me more miserable. I'd much rather focus on graduation." "Oh, me too. But it's bound to be different for you; you've been here longer than I have, man. You're probably gonna miss this place, and I barely know it." "Miss it?" he said with a laugh. "Ev, are you kidding me? I'll turn right around and never look back! Frankly, I can't wait for summer vacation. I already have a good job lined up, and I stress the word good. At least it's better than my current job." "Hey, no job is better than my job," remarked Rohani, smiling sadly. Both guys made a face and vowed once again to never talk about it. Then, "Hey Rocky?" "Hey Ev." "Um...would you...I mean...if I offered, and she agreed, would you date Natalie?" "HUH??" "Not really; I mean, just to see what it's like. It's not going to be like a ‘date' date. Just...go out and have some fun." "Oh. So I'm taking Mia Wallace out for a good time, am I?" Evan gave his friend a puzzled look, and Rocky smiled. "Pulp Fiction reference. You know? ...Never mind. I'm touched, but I just couldn't do that, not to my friend's girlfriend. It's not right." "All right, no problem. I just thought it was a good idea." ......... Harry Johansson felt an awful lot like Simon Cowell as he sat behind a desk (his own aegis shield, in a sense) and listened, or sometimes endured, voice after voice. The school was going to have a small chorus sing for graduation, and Harry knew he'd need some good vocalists. So far, most of the guys auditioning didn't quite sound up to par, and only a few were sufficient. One frankly made Harry want to stab his ears so that the blood would clot enough to thicken, providing an excellent muffler (it was Jon Lu). Now Evan Rohani was a shoe-in, and he also wanted Ronnie Marcos and the sweet Irish twang of Gabriel O'Shannon, but these were the only ones accepted so far. Harry went over the list of applicants several times, and jumped suddenly when he felt two hands grab his shoulders and squeeze. He turned around and hissed as he saw his friends and coworkers, Bo Cerio and Abbot Keeping smiling down at him. "Sheesh, don't sneak up on me like that!" "Sorry," said Bo with a chuckle, "we didn't realize you were so deeply enthralled with your work. Still trying to fix the kinks?" "That and then some," sighed Harry, rubbing his temples. He pointed to two chairs and asked the two men to sit, but they declined. "What? Don't tell me you came here just to startle me!" "No, to recommend other artists," said Abbot. "We know how hard you're working, Harry Jo, so we thought we'd pitch in and ask around. Have you tried Jean Bautista?" "I wasn't aware that he sang." "Oh, he can sing," said Keeping with a smile. "Let's see... Ray Zanders would do well." "No, I'm having him in the orchestra, at least until the big moment." "What about Victor Grissom? He's got talent." "Look, I appreciate this, but since I'm the musical coordinator around here, and the instructor, I think I know what I'm doing—not to sound harsh, but no thanks." "You made a poor attempt," moaned Bo, clutching his heart. "Your words penetrate my breast and shake me to my spine." "Ah, grow up. The only thing that penetrates you is—" "I," sang Abbot, knowing the conversation had worn out its welcome, "think it's time for us to go. Harry, if you want your hairs to turn gray over this, be my guest. We just wanted to help. Come, Beauregard, and leave this tone-deaf cabbage to his work." "Chrono Trigger!" exclaimed Cerio. Both men gave him an understandably puzzled look. Bernard Marbel didn't know what to do. One foreign language teacher was quitting, and the other was being obstinate. If only Andru Torvald would stay, then everything would work out so much better! Without his veteran experience, Samuel O'Brien would have no support in his new class, and would flounder with the work load before September. He certainly couldn't teach any other language, and if he was left high and dry, he was probably better off looking for another job. This was one of Bernard's methods of negotiation, but Andru wouldn't hear it. "I am sorry for you, Sammy," he said to the rotund man, "but I can't stay here. There are just too many bad memories." "Bad memories?!" he bleated. "What the hell kind of excuse is that? Forget about those memories; what about me? I'll be handed my resignation papers if you go!" "That won't happen," said Bernard, who still fought night and day to keep his old friend afloat. "Sam, I promise you, I'll do whatever it takes to keep your job. I owe you that much at least." "You're damn right," he muttered. Marbel wasn't afraid to show his anxious, worrisome face, at least not around close friends and coworkers. It softened Samuel's heart, and with a sigh he apologized. "No, you've done enough. If I'm fired, I'm fired. There are plenty of colleges willing to take a guy like me in, and plenty of students who want a Latin class. I just...never ran into any." "I can help with that," said Marbel. He placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder and smiled; Samuel grinned and gave a cheerful shrug. "Bernie," he grumbled, "you're going through a lot of trouble for this old worn-out instructor, and if I was a smarter man, I'd've realized how good I have it, with a pal like you. Sad to say that I'm not. Andy," he said, looking at Torvald, "you go and do what you need to do. I figure I'm messed up no matter where I go, and well...we both may be wanting this change of scenery. Don't know why I'm surrendering like this," he added with a cough. "Maybe it's senility already, or the fact that I'm tired of fightin' this. Eh...I dunno. I'm old and weary. If any o' you lunkheads need me, I'll be in the teacher's lounge." He left with bravado; Marbel and Torvald didn't know what to make of this, but reasoned that if O'Brien had at last accepted his fate, then things should be easier to bear in the future. ......... Janus Keys looked over his charges and smiled—another day, another project. What was everyone doing now? Ronnie Marcos was probably constructing something blue to fit his mood—but wait, Alexander Blair was approaching him. They were sitting together and talking liked they used to! Well, that was good; Keys loved young Mr. Blair like a son, and soon, if things went well, that bond would be solidified further. Most schools discouraged such parent-teacher relationships, but this was a definite exception. After all, Alex needed a father figure, and who better to fill that role than a man who had always wanted to sire a son? Of course, Gabriel O'Shannon and Lilo Nachtheim worked together. They had been oddly distant from each other for awhile there, but the way they carried on and smiled, they seemed back together again, all loving and sweet like before. That was good news. And Heero was with Yancy again as well, though the other boy wasn't in any of Keys' classes this year. Everyone seemed bonded (or re-bonded) with somebody, and Janus couldn't help but think that Spring Break had something to do with it. A week away from all this drama did wonders. But just as many people had problems to sort out. Mickey Washim, his star sketcher, had issues with Namae Nakatori that Janus just didn't want to get into, and poor Larry Kwong always seemed to have some problem or another. Larry Kwong... Janus heaved a sigh and felt sorry for the young boy. He was like a rock when it came to friendships—he stuck by his pal Ivan Tran when everyone else would've abandoned the wild man, and even helped set him up with Ancel Yi—but when it came to his own relationships, he floundered. Janus didn't even know if he was still seeing Trista or not, but odds were that the two were in some kind of feud. He decided to pull Larry aside and have a private chat. Ancel said goodbye to his friend and left to see Ivan; Larry frowned and crossed his arms once the two were alone. "I've noticed you've been very distant recently, Larry," said Keys. "Is something the matter? Is it Ivan, or your girlfriend?" "No...more like a combination of things," he sighed. "Ivan's such a gay butthead, and he keeps on telling me that he'll pay me back for all this trouble I'm going through for him, but I'm not seeing anything. And...yeah, Trisat's a handful. I seriously think she's cheating on me now." "You two seemed inseparable from the start." "Yeah, well, not all couples look like they were drawn from a fairy tale. We have problems." He stopped himself suddenly, cast his face down, and dug his hands in his pockets. "I'm a desperate man, Mr. Keys. I had sex with Trista two nights ago because I thought it would seal our relationship together, once and for all. Neither one of us are virgins anymore because of it. I promised myself I wouldn't do that until I was married, but...I'm scared to lose her. I don't necessarily hate her, just the things she does." "...Do you think she's ever sorry for them?" asked the older man. "Oh, she says she is, but lately I've really started to wonder! ...I know she does mean well sometimes," he added quietly, "but it's difficult to trust a person who is no longer reliable." Janus Keys nodded, a bit empathetically, but the two were separated from their conversation by the tardy bell. Larry made a face and turned pale. "Shoot, I'm late." "It's okay; I'll give you a note excusing your tardiness. Even Madsen won't have anything to say if he sees one of my papers." Larry smiled weakly and looked at his teacher's face. "Why, do you have him whipped or something?" "Let's just say that he respects my authority in this school," said Keys with a smirk. "And though I may not look it, I can become even scarier than him if I have to. Just a sec." Larry kept his smile as he watched Keys write up a note, but on the inside he was far from happy. Every day seemed to have too many problems and never enough solutions; it was always one step forward and two steps back; he seemed trapped between a rock and a hard place, et cetera. Chef Soma Verela figured it was about time he forgave Mr. Marbel for lying to him, and to also forgive Dr. Andrews for breaking his heart. He confronted both his past loves one at a time; the former was gracious, and glad to have the whole matter now officially behind him, plus he was subsequently thrilled to hear of soma's relationship with Mr. Post. The latter, however, was his usual frosty self, and except for a faint smile and a "That's nice," Soma didn't get much out of Jean-Jacques Andrews. Oh well. "Let em' stew in his own juices," recommended Gabriel O'Shannon, one of the students Soma freely called a friend. "That dam' doctor has broken too many hearts. You were a saint to forgive him; if all was right, he shoulda forgiven you! I vow to you," he pointed, "one o' these days, he'll get what's comin' to him, mark my words." "I think he already has," murmured Soma faintly. "But...he did not deserve it back then. That's why I think he's so cold; it's because he got his comeuppance prematurely." "It's not like Mr. McGowen isn't sorry or nothin'," muttered O'Shannon, chewing on his food. A pause, for digestion—"Lord knows he's gone down on his knees enough times. If the doc were a better man, he's forgive and forget, know what I mean? That's the sad thing about people, though: they want their own wrongs to be forgiven, but they can't abide to forgivin' others. Saints be praised..." The two empathetic men nodded in agreement, and went about a quiet meal until the sweet albino Lilo Nachtheim came around, greeting first his Irish lover and second his good friend the school cook. "And people say Elmer and I are sickening," chuckled Soma as she watched them rub noses. The two lovebirds groused at her and said that he was just jealous. Kama Nanahara felt a lot better after confronting his one time object of love/hate, Arish Krishnan, and glibly remarked that he had now probably apologized to the poor guy at least a million times. Arish said to not worry about it, all was forgiven, and besides, they all seemed to be happy (after all, he was with his sweet soccer star Blake again!). Kama wasn't so sure. He had agreed to go out on a date with Yuga Kogure, but he wasn't so sure. "Why not?" said Blake. "The two of you would look so freaking adorable! And you're half-Japanese, aren't you? So you'd be able to relate to him better than any of us guys. Besides, who else but a wild Hawaiian thrasher like you could stand to be around that wacky samurai wannabe for more than an hour? You two would fit like a key and a lock." "How well you judge me," growled Kama. He hated it when people told him his own life story—after all, what did they know?—but for once, somebody was right on the mark. Kama did relate to Yuga better than anyone, and he actually liked those random recitations of bushido pride and honor Kogure was infamous for. That they had something of a past together might have helped push things along, but Kama wasn't so sure. He wanted to get the whole story from Yuga, maybe without the samurai-style interruptions. "...It would be nice to be in love with somebody that wasn't afraid of me," he muttered later. "God, I hate my rep these days. Course, it's nobody's fault but my own." "Times have changed," said Arish, taking his hand. "You've become a better person—we all have. And you had a darn good excuse for acting the way you did. I'm just glad that the three of us can be friends without too much conflict." "Oh, so are Kama and I buddies now?" said Blake with a smile. Arish shrugged. "Well, you do seem to get along, and he would look good on the soccer team." "You're not gonna ogle him are you?" teased Blake, poking his boyfriend in the ribs. Arish laughed and slapped him away; Kama watched with mild interest. Boys! Honestly... ......... Ray Lance Zanders remembered that once upon a time, he had been the awkward object of affection for all the boys in Douglass. He couldn't help it if he was a feminine-looking pretty boy—what Mr. Keeping called a "bishonen"—he just happened to have the right figure, the right length of hair, the right clothes, and the right attitude. He honestly could've had any woman (or man) he wanted, and either gender would flock to attend to his every beck and call. He ended up choosing the spunky, blond, puckish Jon Lu, and though he had to suffer an eviction from his own home for it, the rewards were well worth it. "I just want you to know," he said softly, staring deep into Jon's everlasting blue eyes, "that I love you, and I love you more ever time the pulse of my heart thrums through my body." "Aww! That's so sweet!" squealed Jon. Lucky for Ray, Jon was crazy about him, though at first he had been a defiant heterosexual who had a thing for feminine people. Their journey together was itself a strange tale, and currently it was in that one particular chapter where they held each other, soft and naked, underneath their bed covers as they made sweet love. "Hey Ray?" "Mmn." Eleven thirty-eight; they had been engaged in sex for nearly half an hour, on and off. This was the calm after the storm, so to speak. "I've been thinking." "...Oh? You know, smart blond boys are really sexy, and hard to come by." "Shut up," giggled Jon, slapping his boyfriend's bare chest, "and let me finish. I was just thinking about alternate realities again." "Oh? Been playing Chrono Cross? Staring at poor Glenn, Karsh, and Guile?" "Be quiet!" he squeaked. "I was saying, Mr. Interruption, that I was just wondering if there are other versions of us out there." "Oh, like what?" "Like...you know how Douglass is a school for guys, right? Well do you suppose that somewhere out there, there's a school for girls? And not just that, but most all the girls in that school are gay, or bisexual, like the guys are here? I know it sounds crazy, but it's been on my mind for awhile and I can't get it out." "...An all-girls school," murmured Ray, unleashing a yawn. He shrugged and smiled at his lover, saying, "I guess...anything's possible."
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