One

Bryan – 1

   No one would ever mistake Bryan Rohrer as the adventurous type. Calling him a lady’s man extraordinaire would not describe him either. Even basic sociability was only barely something he possessed in his repertoire. That all changed when he was around Scott Stanfield.

   Scott made all the difference. He made Bryan a known face in the “scene”.

   That’s because Scott was the opposite of him, the antithesis of everything Bryan was and ever would be. And, from the outside looking in, Bryan was certain Scott was a lot happier as a result.

   “Because I said so!” Scott sang with a drunken slur impeding his usual speech. It wasn’t very noticeable though. After all, he wasn’t singing alone. Instead, a roaring crowd of dancing lunatics hollered and yelled to their heart’s content. This all happened alongside the music behind it.

   They were at a party. A college party, and one where only the hottest of students received invitations (and Bryan). It was something Bryan knew he’d never have been invited to by his own merits, but it was all okay because Scott Stanfield was his friend, and that meant he was invited.

   “Do-do-down the bitches go!” The dancing crowd of people continued to scream out to the heavens. There was nothing like misogynistic rap music with a catchy beat to bring everyone together in a united front.

   Women who’d already had far too much to drink were ready to show their tits on a dare, and the right douche would be around to try and take it past that. This wasn’t always college life. Not in Bryan’s experience, at least. Just tonight.

   Luckily, they were a little safer, now that security had tightened for Southern Jalint University in recent days. Security guards were always driving around the sidewalks in their little golf-cart vehicles, and most of the girls were too smart to be given the runaround. Of course, they were smart, S.J.U was in the top five best colleges of all Maharris, but they also weren’t naive anymore.

   They traveled in packs and kept a tight lid over their drinks. It was the Freshman girls that were the most rambunctious. They had their first taste of freedom away from their parents and they swigged it down to the very last drop, unaware of the very bad people that took it as a chance for their own gains. But that was beside the point…

   Naming all the many different restrictions and protections took a lot of the air out from the room. For starters, if one person really wanted to know what it felt like at this party, they’d have to know the aroma in the air, which reeked of something between heavy body-odor, alcohol, and, for some reason or another, urine. Bryan could see the cigarette (or maybe weed) smoke ascending from somewhere in the crowd, but it was too far for him to smell its scent.

   The music raved on, blasting out a bass that made the ground beneath Bryan’s feet vibrate. It was coming from a bunch of large speakers set up around the area, no doubt snatched up from the glee club, not that anyone involved in it would likely be invited to this party.

   Scott was out on the lawn, dancing in the crowd that jumped around in tandem, flaunting their arms to the beat of the song as it played. Bryan, on the other hand, opted for a more isolated area. Bryan found himself in-front of the large pool where several lawn chairs and tables were strewn about. He sat alone, watching some brick shithouse looking tall dude carry a petite girl on his shoulders. A beach ball was in play, and Bryan had been keeping score in his head over who he thought was the best of those involved. “3 points for the tattooed chick with the dark-hair,” but it was a short muscular guy who seemed dead serious about his beach ball playing that led the pack with the highest score.

   Bryan took a sip of his diet soda. Some people might have rolled their eyes at it or mocked the sight, but alcohol wasn’t something he dabbled with anymore. Not after his last couple experiences with the liquid courage ended badly. Without it, Bryan had a little bit tougher of a time trying to unwind, which made parties a bit of a drag, but he also knew that appearances were worth keeping anyways.

   “How’s the gaming going, who’s winning?” A voice said, one that caught Bryan off-guard and made him flinch.

   “… What?” Bryan asked, perhaps sounding a little more aggressive than what he intended, trying to compensate around the amount of noise from the music around them. He looked over to the woman, a round-faced girl with dark-bluish hair and a noise piercing. She was cute, but in a punk-rock, alternative kind-of way. It was a non-conventional cuteness, Bryan supposed.

   It was about a second later he was able to piece two and two together and figure out what she’d said. “Oh no, me? I’m not keeping score, just a little zoned out is all.”

   “I’m just giving you shit,” the woman jested, a playful expression on her face as she said it. Her voice was child-like. Her age and physique decided the matter, but, by her voice alone, it almost felt more fitting to call her “girl,” instead of “woman”.

   “Good one,” Bryan said dryly, mostly because he didn’t really know what else to say.

   “You’re a little bit of a quiet one, aren’t you?”

   Bryan smiled. “I don’t know if you’ve given me enough of a chance to make that assumption.”

   “Okay,” nodding her head as if to say it was a fair point. She awkwardly took a seat on one of the lawn chairs, flopping back by mistake. They leaned down more than what was ideal, so much so that Bryan had to hunch himself over in-order to put his elbows on the table in-front of him.

   The woman soon adjusted to do the same. “Tell me about yourself then, what do you like to do for fun?”

   Bryan looked at her seriously for a second; dead seriously. Then, he shrugged. A sly smirk formed on his face he did so. The woman laughed and so did he. But then, throwing her a line, he elaborated, “I like soccer. I’ve played it since I was a little kid.”

   He watched as the beach ball was thrown out from the pool, only to be kicked back in by a man who had clearly partook a great deal in the night’s celebrations (a drunk man, in other words).

   “Oh, soccer,” She nodded, “It’s a big deal here in Jalint, isn’t it?”

   “Especially in this part of Jalint. When I was growing up, it felt like soccer was the only dream I was ever really allowed to have. You either met your dreams and played soccer or you ended up working as a farmer, or something.”

   “And, you don’t work there, so you must be good at soccer then?”

   Bryan chuckled. “Not even a little bit.”

   The woman laughed, a small snort escaping her before she took a sip of her drink, which had a lid over the top. Bryan noted the way her drink also had soda in it, not beer.

   “It’s alright,” she said brushing off the comment with another small laugh. “K.J.,” she said, at once, extending her hand for Bryan to shake, a quest Bryan obliged to.

   “Bryan,” he said next.

   “I see you hanging out with Scott Stanfield a lot. I would’ve pegged you as some star athlete or something.”

   It seemed there were always two constant variables for most people that met Bryan. They’d make a comment about how quiet he was, or they’d wonder how a guy like Scott would be friends with someone like him. It took K.J. only a couple of minutes to complete that tradition.

   “Scott and I have been friends since we were real little. We’ve played soccer together all the way through school. Scott was the team’s pride and joy, and well, I kept myself from ever getting cut from the team, at least.”

   “I was wondering why you’d bother with a jock like that. I wouldn’t think he’d be worth your time.” K.J. said. When she smiled, Bryan was able to see the dimples on both sides of her cheeks.

   “Scott’s not so bad. I mean, the guy’s rough around the edges, but not a bad person.”

   And, then, as if waiting on cue for that statement, the beach ball rolled back outside the pool, and this time, Scott was ready to demonstrate his gifted footwork to the rest of the partygoers. Unfortunately, the grass, mushy and soggy from the pool water, had other plans, and Scott slipped backwards, falling on his ass. A small roar of laughter could be heard over the music by some of the people in the pool, but Scott’s voice was the most distinct.

   Scott was laughing as he climbed back to his feet, but Bryan already knew he wasn’t much for public embarrassment. His ears turned noticeably red in a moment’s notice, as they often did in these situations, and soon after, the beach ball was popped by a well-placed fingernail.

   There was the sound of some angry “fuck you” insults directed at Scott by many of the guys in the pool, and Bryan was relieved to find that seemed to be the extent of the retaliation. Too many times, Scott had found a way to start a fist fight with someone or someone’s at a party and gotten the shit beat out of him. Mixing alcohol and testosterone, then, seeing how it reacted to Scott’s temper, always made a recipe for disaster.

   Bryan knew he’d need to get him home before things got too heated. He took his eyes off from Scott only long enough to catch a look from K.J. that made it feel like a “gotcha” moment.

   “Probably not his best moment, I’ll admit,” Bryan said weakly, watching while Scott scampered off and away to the mosh of people that were out in the yard.

   “You’re here as his babysitter, aren’t you?” K.J. asked, her mouth ajar by the realization.

   “I am here as his designated driver,” Bryan corrected, sounding offended about the accusation for a reason he couldn’t really understand.

   “Doesn’t really seem fair that the fella has to be babysat while he has a good time, and you’re stuck here all by yourself doing nothing.”

   “I’m not doing nothing, I’m talking to you,” Bryan replied coolly, a small smile on his face.

   “Oh yeah,” K.J. replied, climbing up to her feet, looking at Bryan with a challenging “come hither” gaze. Slowly, she crept away, using her index finger to ask Bryan to follow. “Gonna have to take those training wheels off Scott if you want to talk with me.”

* * *

   It had happened so fast. It was like something out of the movies, or like something that, simply put, didn’t happen to someone like Bryan. The scent of K.J.’s perfume was a sweet aroma; the smell of cinnamon on her clothing was more abundant now that they were away from the musky smell of drunken college kids.

   Her lips felt sweet against Bryan’s and kissing her was an act that felt natural (not like kissing someone who was, for the most part, a complete stranger). The exchange felt right, for lack of a better word to describe it.

   They’d both sneaked off away from the party, which was being hosted smack dab in the middle of campus, and found themselves in K.J.’s dorm, her roommate out at the party herself.

   Bryan could feel the warmth of her heavy breathing on his skin. Both were soon on their knees, kissing atop her small twin-sized mattress. The way she held her hands on each of his shoulders and had to lean up to kiss him, made him feel empowered, for some reason.

   The space around them was pitch-black. Everything was dark, except a spotlight only on them – the thin glare of a small lamp at her bedside.

   The vibration coming from Bryan’s cellphone in his back-pocket was not lost on him but was simply ignored. Instead, his hands were busy grazing over K.J.’s shirt. He could feel the thin fabric of her bra beneath.

   Every now and again, they could hear the footsteps and laughing of girls from outside her dorm-room as they roamed the hallways, but Bryan paid little mind to them.

   K.J. bit his bottom lip every now and again as they kissed, an act that was clearly intentional, and in-response, Bryan did his best to initiate a similar pleasure, nibbling on the side of her neck like a gentle vampire trying to suck out blood. She moaned, indicating it was something she enjoyed. His body felt warm and he felt light-headed and braver because of it, perhaps because his blood was pumping mostly to another head entirely.

   In an act of bravery, Bryan’s left hand slowly crept from her stomach to the heat between her legs, feeling under her jeans and touching her panties, he could tell she was turned on from the wetness on his fingertips.

   “Stop.” K.J. said at once, not in a yell, but in a way that sounded assertive and serious.

   Bryan quickly obliged, taking his hand out from under her jeans like her vagina was a snapping turtle.

   “I’m sorry,” he said at once, his sexual desire dissipating fast as an awkward embarrassment filled him in its place.

   K.J. looked at him with a maddened fear in her eyes Bryan couldn’t place the cause of. Had he hurt her by mistake? Her eyes became watery and bloodshot, tears dampening her face as they dribbled down her cheeks. Bryan brushed his hand across her face, trying to comfort her, even though he didn’t really know how.

   K.J. smiled nervously, putting her hand on his as though she was about to knock it away from her face, but, instead, she held it there for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she said.

   “We’re just two very sorry people,” Bryan said weakly, looking into her eyes as though he’d see an explanation behind her actions. Alas, Bryan saw nothing except the watery glisten and sparkle looking back at him.

   K.J. eased her stature, visibly calming herself, “I had a bad experience a few months ago with a guy,” she stopped for a moment, taking in a breath and letting it escape her, “I thought I was past this.”

   “I wouldn’t hurt you,” Bryan said, trying to sound as comforting as he could, “This college stuff, … these parties, … they’re not really my thing. I only go to them because Scott tells me to. I’ll care about you, if you let me.”

   K.J. smiled, for real this time, not a smile that wreaked of fear or anxiety, falling into Bryan’s arms. They slept through the night.

   Bryan stayed up a little while after. He looked up at the ceiling, breathing in the cinnamon from her perfume. This could be the start of something new.

2 – Shaun

   Growing up, Shaun had always been brought up on the belief his family was immune to certain ailments. The “Thompson gift” is what family members would call it, and if you had it, that meant you’d never have to experience a hangover a single time in your life. It was an immunity his grandfather often boasted about, or made up wacko scientific explanations for, and Shaun’s father was certain to carry the tradition. As it turns out, however, Shaun had since learned that his grandfather and his father were both completely full of shit.

   It was today he realized that, with a massive headache marching along in the back of his head after a particularly active night was left in the rear-view.

   Shaun yawned and leaned back in his chair, further rubbing out the gunk that’d been stuck in his eyes since waking up. His eyelids felt heavy and puffy, sore and aggravated, but they were much too bothersome to simply just ignore.

   After, he continued to doodle random nonsense in his notebook while his instructor rattled on about the great importance of Amino Omega-3 Fatty Acids and how everyone needed more of them in their system. It was a very strange topic to take the stage for a Math class, but Shaun’s head ached too badly to really care about such matters.

   It wasn’t a very advanced Math class, hence the looser, more laid-back approach. It was the bare minimum for students that would never have to use such complicated methods a single day in their lives. Many of the students were slackers. They were the ones in school who couldn’t care less and were simply blowing through their rich family’s money until they could come back home. Some were athletes that got into the school off a soccer scholarship and simply did their best to walk the line, sometimes even paying students of more advanced classes to do the homework for them. Others just sucked at math.

   Shaun was a combination of the latter two, he was at the college primarily for soccer, but tried to really make an honest effort with his schoolwork. The only problem was that, for the most part, he had no idea what the fuck he was doing.

   Speak of the Devil, Shaun turned his head when he heard the door click and watched while Scott Stanfield entered the room. Considered as a soccer protege, his arrival to the classroom left him a whopping half hour late to the lecture.

   “Hello, Scott, it’s nice of you to grace us with your presence,” Mr. Cruids said, pretending he cared about whether Scott showed up to his class today.

   Mr. Cruids was a cool teacher, for the most part, but was definitely in a chiller, looser mood for today’s class, probably because he was aware many of his students were too wiped out to give a damn about anything he had to say. A not-insignificant fraction of his class was absent, and so, he’d likely wait a couple days til he started gearing up prep for the final exams.

   Scott Stanfield didn’t reply, simply waved him off and took his seat, sitting right beside Shaun in the back of the class. Mr. Cruid continued yammering on, no real correlation between his words and the subjects for the class itself.

   “I swear I’m fixing to kick Bryan’s ass,” Scott whispered, looking over to Shaun.

   It could have been Shaun’s imagination, but he was about one-hundred percent certain Scott had infiltrated his personal space bubble by how close he leaned over to say that to him. It was after Scott fully grabbed his attention though, that Shaun realized the ugly, gross-ass black eye Scott wore.

   Shaun almost flinched at the sight of it. He must have only seen Scott’s right side as he walked into the classroom, because, otherwise, there was no way he wouldn’t have seen it.

   “Looks like someone already went ahead and massacred yours,” Shaun jested, admiring the way Scott was unable to open his left eye, despite the valiant efforts to do so.

   Scott shook his head and rolled his … eye, an act to show just how downright miffed he was. Oh, sir, Shaun was certain Bryan would be on the receiving end of a temper tantrum now. Before? Maybe not, maybe it’d blow over. But, after that eye roll? Definitely!

   “Some guys pissed me off last night, … and I was drunk. I knew it wasn’t a fight I could win, so I tried to find Bryan, have him calm me down. I remember he was hanging out with that one chubby chick, that Kelsey Jay girl.”

   “Why does that name sound familiar?”

   “She was raped by some guy in a bathroom stall last year, caused a whole lot of shit, it’s why there’s security guards every fifteen feet now on campus.”

   “I remember, … they only sentenced him to a few months. I’ve had bottles of shampoo that spent more time in my shower than what a rapist spent in prison.” Shaun commented, looking over to Mr. Cruid in an attempt to look like he was paying attention to whatever the instructor was yammering about.

   “Are you guys talking about Kelsey Jay?” A girl just in-front of them asked, her name was Jessica Nicole. She had dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, lots of freckles, and usually wore a low-cut shirt to show a view of her very endowed bust. The jury was still out on her personality, however, as Shaun only otherwise knew her for loud outbursts and being a little bit on the melodramatic side.

   Shaun nodded his head.

   “She’s so weird! That giant snake tattoo on her tits, and all she ever wants to talk about is anime and whatever weird shit she reads on the internet.” Her voice had a shrill loudness, a type of screech that probably couldn’t have been contained even if she tried, oblivious to the fact they were trying to remain discreet.

   “You might have just described the perfect woman,” Shaun countered, a half-smile in retort.

   In-response, Jessica battled back with a look of disgust, “Maybe if you’re gay and you like fucking dudes!”

   “Alright,” Scott said, with something of an assertive inflection, reminding everyone he intended on being the center of attention.

   “I don’t believe my class is gossip hour, Mister Stanfield,” Mr. Cruids remarked. They were much too far away for him to be able to overhear any details of the conversation, and so, his comment was a lucky guess on his part.

   Scott let out an audible groan, even though it was only about a minute until they were talking again.

   “Bryan was hanging out with that girl, and I remember I was really mad for some reason, I went back and I, … I must have picked a fight with the ones who made me mad, and they kicked my ass. I went back, a bloody mess, to find out Bryan’s fucking left!” Scott went on.

   “Hmm… Who was it that attacked you, again?” Shaun asked.

   Scott stared at him blankly for a few seconds.

   “Can’t remember that far?”

   Scott shook his head indignantly, which was enough to draw a laugh out of Shaun. It was possible his head injury had caused Scott a form of short-term memory loss, but the alternative was far more amusing of a prospect. Scott had always been known for having a drinking problem, at least the whole way through college that Shaun knew it. The thought Scott, who was more than vindictive enough to hold a grudge, had been beaten up, but was so drunk he blacked out and forgot who’d done it was a perfect storm.

   “Chances are you probably deserved what you got. You make a major ass out of yourself when you’re drunk.”

   Scott gave him that indignant look again, the kind-of look that said he was offended by Shaun’s accusation, but that it was too right on the money for him to verbally argue against.

3 – Melissa

   The more Melissa was around other college students in classes, the more and more grateful she was that she’d be teaching lower-grade kids once she got her degree. Most of her classmates were well behaved. Most of them, minus a couple of spats here and there, at least in the classrooms. It was out of school hours that half the guys waved their dicks around and made mating calls. But it didn’t feel like college students ever needed much help figuring things out.

   The smart ones would remain smart, or they’d find a way to solve their problems by themselves, and the ones that struggled, too often struggled in silence. College students were less like empty vessels that needed to have new thoughts and ideas supported and instilled, and more like glossing up finished canvases, just to give them a superficial edge. Very few students ever really put the time and effort to make lasting improvements for themselves in subjects they’d accepted mediocrity in. Melissa deciding to become a tutor, however, provided her with a new perspective on things.

   Melissa smiled and tried her best to be supportive as Shaun struggled to take on the mere basics of trigonometry. To his credit, unlike so many others, Shaun stuck with it, having a sense of dedication that never wavered or lost focus. It was one of the traits that she admired most about him.

   “You’re judging me in your head again, aren’t you?” Shaun asked, looking up at Melissa while she did her best impression of a king looking down at her servants. (“Yes! Do them mathematics, you peasant ass bitch!”)

   “I would never judge you, sweetheart,” Melissa replied, patting her peasant ass bitch boyfriend on the back.

   Melissa was starting to wonder if Shaun was paranoid.

   Shaun had brown skin and a bushy Afro, with a built surprisingly muscular for his skinny frame. Although he got into college from a soccer scholarship, he’d made it clear to her it wasn’t what he wanted to do with his life. He’d told Melissa stories about how he wanted to be a film director, having already sent out several amateur short films to try and get a response from film agents.

   “Hmm,” Shaun said, his brain much too fried to think of anything witty or smart to say in-response.

   “How will you ever get by in life if you don’t know SOHCAHTOA!?” Melissa asked, making certain to holler out the last word.

   “What the fuck!? Don’t make things up!” Shouted an exasperated voice from Shaun that sounded playfully agitated about the whole mess.

   “Sine equals opposite over hypotenuse, cosine equals adjacent over hypotenuse, and tangent equals opposite over adjacent. SOHCAHTOA!” Melissa explained again, a strong inflection behind her voice as she tried to imitate an evil dictator’s battle cry.

   Shaun sighed. Melissa could tell he wasn’t in his usual playful mood.

   “Only a little longer til the semester is over, and we can move on with our lives,” Melissa said, trying to reassure her boyfriend the best she could.

   “It can’t come soon enough,” Shaun mumbled, fidgeting as he spoke, he ripped a small tear into one of the pages on his math book.

   “And, soon, we also have our last trip to look forward to.”

   Shaun nodded his head. It was tradition in Southern Jalint University to cap the final year off by doing a trip with all the classes. Students would challenge themselves by taking on the almighty beast that was Mt. Kass. Few usually succeeded at making it to the actual mountain peak, but that was because the trail up didn’t lead all the way to the top. It went on more like what was a spacious cliff and ended like that, the rest was mostly trees and wildlife. Most students found it preferable to follow the trail as far as it went and make it far enough to get a good profile picture. After that, they could drink and celebrate the night away and celebrate college’s end right.

   Melissa’s boyfriend smiled at her, “After that, we’ll be able to start our lives together, you and me.” Shaun put his arm over her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “You’ll be able to teach children like you’ve always dreamed of, and I’ll be able to make horror films where the black guys are the only ones that don’t die at the end.”

   “You’ll be an innovator,” Melissa jested, looking at the other students sitting around the cafeteria. It wasn’t too crowded, but it had started to fill up more, a later class must have recently been let out.

   Melissa knew that Shaun looked at the end of his college tenure with a sense of finality, an accomplishment, as it was, Shaun saw it as the end of a long and tumultuous struggle that sometimes seemed to have more troubled times than good. That’s how he saw it. The suffering’s end, Shaun believed he could finally begin his life. Others saw it as the end of the partying and looked at the trip to Mt. Kass as the last celebration before taking the plunge into the workforce. Melissa looked at it like a leap of faith.

   From then on, her life wouldn’t be based on anticipation. It wouldn’t be about fantasizing and chasing after something but surviving it once it was achieved. In that regard, Melissa felt terrified of life after college.

   Shaun wasn’t like that though. Something about him always felt calm and collected, and in-control of the situation. It made Melissa feel more capable as a result.

   Melissa smiled, running her fingers through Shaun’s hair and kissing him on the forehead.

4 – Bryan

   Bryan had only one thing going through his head as he awoke in K.J.’s bed: – how badly his arm hurt.

   “Ah,” he said quietly to himself, trying to adjust his arm out from underneath K.J.’s head without waking her. The feat was difficult, and, in a matter of only a small attempt, it was proven he was not up to task, inadvertently nudging her awake in his efforts.

   She smiled at him, which was far better than what he half-expected, which was an imitation of a shrieking banshee or the Screaming Man painting he’d always seen around in movies and history books. Bryan reciprocated the warm response the best he could, though, with his aching arm and the uncomfortable way he’d rested on his neck, it was difficult for him to pay much attention to appearances.

   “This bed’s not big enough for two people,” K.J. responded, a small, high-pitched laugh came next, and something between that and the morning breath she shot in his direction like a missile made it noticeable how awkward of a situation they were in.

   Whatever magic or contact-buzz they must have felt in the previous night no longer felt so infectious, instead, what was apparent was that Bryan had spent the night in bed with a woman that had a high-pitched laugh and morning breath. The puzzle pieces that once felt so seamlessly in-place were jagged, corner pieces trying to be wedged into the center. If relationships were best when one took the scenic route, he and her had taken a short-cut to the finish line.

   “We’ll have to find ourselves a bigger bed,” Bryan agreed, however, right as he said it, he questioned himself.

   Did he think there would be a next time? Was that too assuming? It might have been easier had they been drunk the night before. At least then, they could chalk it up to a drunken night of wild sex with no strings attached. Bryan, instead, had spent the entire night cuddling with this stranger, an act that implied he saw something more in her. The whole thing was very awkward for him, and the red-hot heat in his chest only worked to make it worse for him.

   “Maybe we will,” K.J. agreed, although, Bryan could tell she had picked up on his accidental, but presumptuous choice of words as being abrupt.

   “I am not really good at this kind of stuff,” Bryan let out. In an effort to make things less uncomfortable for himself, he effectively made things more uncomfortable for himself. His voice trembled as he spoke, and he wasn’t for certain if it was because his nervousness, because he was just waking up, or a combination of both.

   “Believe me, neither am I,” K.J. reassured, leaning herself up from the bed and to a seated position. Bryan stared at the back of her head for only a moment until he decided it was probably for the best, he did the same.

   “I actually have, uh,” Bryan took his cellphone out from his back-pocket and checked it. He had received several texts from Scott, one of which said nothing except for “Fuck you,” and saw that the time said it was 7am. “I actually have a speech class that starts soon, but, uh,” Bryan blurted out. It was a complete lie, however. Monday was one of his free days from school and he’d even also made for certain to request off work as well, knowing he’d likely be tired by the party’s end. Then again, given how difficult it was for him to make words all of a sudden, perhaps a Speech class was worth thinking about.

   K.J. seemed not to notice anything off, merely shaking her head in agreement with him. “Oh, I completely get it,” she said, climbing to her feet and stretching out her arms before walking toward the door and opening it. Bryan readied himself to join the rest of the guys in making a walk of shame out from each girls’ dorm room. He imagined it was less shameful when guys did it and more a badge of honor, however.

   And, … that was that. Bryan forced a one-armed hug, exchanged smiles with her, and then, found himself on his way. He walked away from the night’s events, leaving them behind as nothing except for a memory. But, at the same time, he knew he’d see to it that this wasn’t the last he saw of this girl.

* * *

   “Yeah, they fucking nearly beat my skull in because of you!” Scott ranted, trying to muster the same bit of passionate anger he must have surely felt when it first happened, and failing to do so. The inflection was there, but his heart simply wasn’t in it.

   “You’ll have to excuse me for possessing your body and making you piss those guys off. Dear lord, why can’t I use my powers for good!” Bryan snapped back, letting his own irritation get the better of him.

   Scott shot him a shocked look, acting as though the thought of his own wrongness was too difficult a concept for him to fathom.

   “Well, you fucking never do anything there at the parties anyways, just sit there like a damned serial killer.”

   “I spent the night with someone last night,” Bryan replied, ignoring his desire to provide a snarky rebuttal of his own in return.

   He needed to be on Scott’s good side for the most part. Scott was his ticket to every party and to relevance, always keeping him beloved and “cool,” when Bryan’s introverted tendencies would have otherwise had him fall into obscurity.

   Scott smiled at him when he said that, although, it was far from a photogenic grin. The black eye he sported, along with the swelling around his cheek made it much more cringe-worthy than what was intended.

   “You banged that one Kelsey Jay girl, didn’t you!?” Scott yelled out, hitting Bryan on the shoulder with his fist, sort-of in a buddy o’ pal cliché kind of way.

   “No,” Bryan clarified, “All we did was spend the night together. I didn’t have sex with her.”

   “Then, you had no reason you couldn’t have been there last night to help me out. You always have my back!”

   “I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t think you were that drunk and thought you’d be alright without me.”

   “You didn’t happen to see who it was that I made mad, did you?” Scott asked, apparently moving on and accepting Bryan’s apology.

   “You don’t remember?” Bryan asked.

   “I must have blacked out, ‘cause I can’t remember anything after I went looking for you,” Scott said.

   “I didn’t see anyone that looked like they wanted to hurt you.” Bryan answered. It was the truth. Even if it wasn’t, it’s not as if Bryan would have told him anyways, no sense in starting a fight that could have been prevented.

   “I can’t wait until I’m through with this place,” Scott said, sounding dejected. It was a statement that caught Bryan off-guard.

   College seemed like it was tailor made for Scott in just about every way imaginable. He was a talented and good-looking guy that loved to party and drink, and one that was also very popular with his classmates and teachers.

   “You’ve always seemed to flourish in this environment.”

   Scott looked at Bryan with a blank stare, then, plainly said: “I’ve never flourished.”   “You’ve always dated the prettiest girls, you’re a shoe-in to receive a contract for soccer, and you’re always the center of attention in every place you go. Let’s face it, buddy, you’ve never not flourished,” Bryan said, patting Scott on the back and offering him a playful smile.

   Scott seemed to ignore Bryan’s praises, instead, opting to start a new topic entirely. “This girl, you think you’re going to stick with her?”

   Bryan chewed on Scott’s words for a couple of seconds before answering him. His mind traveled back to the morning he left behind with K.J. and the warmness that was once inside of his chest. It was all he’d thought about since, and he was interested in someone for the first time in a long time.

   “I like her, I mean, I think I like her. I didn’t really have a chance to get to know her, but she seemed like a nice person,” Bryan said.

   “That’s great, Bryan. I’m glad,” Scott said warmly. “And maybe she’ll be so kind as to accompany you when we take that trip out of the mountain. Make some real memories of this place that involve your head crammed inside the pages of some book or getting it on with your laptop.”

   “I haven’t even really thought about the trip,” Bryan admitted, even though there were only a few short weeks left until it’d be happening. “Just wanted to get through the final exams without completely unraveling all the work I’ve done this semester.”

   “That trip is all I’ve been able to think about. The thought of not having to deal with all the petty drama bullshit that this University has,” Scott said, ignoring the fact he was more often than not the instigator of most of the “petty drama bullshit” that came hurling itself in his direction.

   “And what about you, are you still dating that Chelsea girl you’d been seeing?”

   “No, I don’t think it’s going to work out with her.”

   “I thought you liked her?”

   “I did, but we wanted different things, and what I wanted fell a few short of monogamy, which ended up a deal breaker.”

   “Most girls seem to have a problem with that, I’ve noticed. Weird,” Bryan said.

   Scott nodded his head fondly, but Bryan could see the watery look in his eyes as well.

   Bryan brought the straw of his drink up to his lips, slurping down the remainder of soda he had left.

5 – Crystal

  “It is said that, thousands of years ago, The Aeonians rose up to the heavens. They shed themselves of their otherworldly powers, sacrificing themselves before God as a sacrifice to bring Maharris out from the darkness which once plagued it,” Mr. Dawson said dryly, the same ho-hum tone and demeanor that he always seemed to have whenever he gave lectures.  

   Crystal, along with the other students, were left with no other alternative than to try their best to keep their heads lifted, trying not to fall asleep with only ten brief minutes left of class time.

   “The reason this concerns you is because it was at the top of Mt. Kass that these, so called, supernatural beings made their sacrifice to the Heavens. Story has it their souls were welcomed to paradise by God, with the essence of their power going to each of the five major cities. Verdicine to Acera, so-and-so to Jalint, blah, blah, and blah, and that they put a shield over each of their cities, keeping them protected. Now, the good of them was said to go up to the Heavens, but the bad supposedly stayed in the Mountains. And, not only that, but the souls from a war that happened several hundreds year later plagued the mountaintop with the wreaking stench of death.” Mr. Dawson continued.

   “I won’t act like I believe any of this and I don’t expect that any of you will either, but you can believe so if you like. All I know is that there have been plenty of cult related murders in the Mountains, and that those are very, very real. Idiots that take biblical concepts and exploit them for their own bullshit agendas.” Mr. Dawson stopped for a moment, either to let everything sink in, or because he wanted to be able to focus on the class’ reaction to him using a swear word. Such a rebel, that Mr. Dawson!

   “I was young once, believe it or not,” he chuckled weakly, although, no one else joined in. “And I know that all of you are adults, with most of you past the legal drinking age. I am not telling you not to go out and have fun. I’m not. But I do hope all of you will be responsible and be safe. Travel in groups and don’t do anything too reckless. Thank you and have a great break to those of you who will be returning next semester, and to the others, have a great future.” Mr. Dawson smiled for a moment but was quick to let it fade.

   Crystal rose to her feet as fast as the rest of them. Dejected and tired, she didn’t really feel that sense of accomplishment she would have liked. Mostly because this wasn’t her final class for the week, with another full-day string of classes waiting for her tomorrow, but also because she still had a shift to work in only a couple short hours. That made it difficult to feel enthusiastic about much of anything.

* * *

   The Dine wasn’t a bad place to work, at least as far as jobs in food service were concerned. A mom and pop store through and through, the weekdays were often practically empty, which made a chill, albeit, quiet night. It wasn’t the caliber of some fancy restaurant like Italina’s Ollie’s Abil, but The Dine specialized in pastas, as well as other home-style offerings, all made with all the precision and love that a twenty-three-year-old with very little to no food experience could muster. The staff were also usually nonexistent, with only three employees in the restaurant during most periods, at best.

   In this instance, because it was still particularly early, it was only Crystal and a middle-aged man with brown skin and tattoos named Nathan. Nathan mostly stuck to the back but would come out of his cave to help if it was requested.

   He spent most days sitting in the back, washing dishes, or smelling his farts while he waited for more dishes to come. The guy would strike many as odd but was kind and polite if anyone tried to engage him in conversation. The only trait Crystal didn’t find particularly ideal about him was how he felt no shame spending the entirety of his shift doing nothing some nights, taking the fact he was the bus boy very literally, taking no initiative with anything else. This mean Crystal was usually left to hold down the fort by herself, waiting tables and preparing food to be served.

   The whole thing sounded like a total bust when it was explained that way, but it wasn’t so bad. The restaurant got far too few customers during this time to really complain. Not only that, the customers were mostly really understanding, which was a stark contrast from how they acted during much busier, more hectic times.

   Most customers in the early hours were senior citizens. And, they weren’t fresh members of the “older community” either, not fifty or sixty years old, but somewhere much closer to an A+ on the percentile. The customers were too busy falling in and out of death to care about whether they had to wait a few minutes on their buttermilk pancakes and glasses of tea. Bless their heart, Crystal loved them for it.

   “Excuse me, young lady, could I trouble you for a small cup of tea, if it isn’t too much trouble?” An old woman asked, with a voice sweet enough to cause a diabetic coma.

   “Why, yes, you may, you beautiful son of a bitch,” is what Crystal thought to herself. “Yes, you absolutely may,” is what Crystal said, offering a kind smile the customer was more than happy to reciprocate.

   Every now and again, she would come across a rude customer, ones that expected a free meal if she accidentally gave them ice for their drink they didn’t ask for. But those were mostly and in-between.

   It wasn’t this day, but at an earlier one, she received a phone call from an old man that needed directions to help the find place. That was all well and good, but when she did, he informed her he was at the very same street she said, and the only place there was an old antique shop. Crystal had been confused at first, a small sprinkling of self-doubt entering her head that made her wonder if the street address she’d thought went to The Dine was someplace else entirely.

   Or worse, that it was a phone-call sent from an alternative dimension (imagine the long-distance fees!). When she asked what color his car was, she was able to single out his vehicle and even waved him down from the so-called antique shop. Out of stubbornness, the old man played it up like the store looked different from how it looked last month (it hadn’t) and that they should change it back to avoid confusion. Eventually, the old guy swallowed his pride and begrudgingly ate his soup.

   Again, lots of senior citizens this time of the day.

   Her 10 to 6 shift was mostly uneventful. Bland might even have been a fair description of the day, although, Crystal was always able to keep herself busy in the drought periods. She’d been working on a canvas drawing for her best friend Kathi’s birthday, and not just any illustration, but a particularly silly, outlandish one at that. It’d be a depiction of cartoon anthropomorphic characters with inspirations drawn from various different morning TV shows of yesteryear. Kathi was very connected to her imagination, for her, it was either goofy cartoons or … grotesque horror films. Crystal was trying to find a happy-medium between the two, a horror themed drawing with her own original cartoon characters. This included a very large, very mean-looking goat. Some might have seen Kathi’s darker tastes as morbid, but, in the end, she was one of the nicest people Crystal had ever met.

   The drawing was coming along well, although, adding colors to it would be a bitch and a half. It was the most ambitious drawing she’d ever done, and it would take all of a month to finish.

   The day picked up noticeably in the afternoon, but that was also around the time that a woman named Jennifer showed up to help with the customers. Jennifer was a woman in her late forties with brown hair and particularly tanned skin. She was also Crystal’s boss, having owned the restaurant in all its glory. It had been passed down from her father after his death.

   “I think I could go to a restaurant that was closed and expect better service than this,” a younger, maybe fifteen or sixteen-year-old, teenage boy yelled out. Making it abundantly clear (Crystal clear!) that the time of nice or crazy old people had passed, and now, people would act rude or entitled.

* * *

   “You’ll be finished with school pretty soon, won’t you?” Jennifer asked, loading plates and silverware into a cart for Nathan to take back.

   “That is correct,” Crystal answered, having finished the sandwich she brought from home, she was now using what was left of her break to touch up on the canvas she’d been working on. The work was propped up over her knees while she sat, hunched up in a chair.

   “What are you going to do after that?” Jennifer asked.

   “Besides get the hell out of Jalint?” Crystal jested, taking her attention off the drawing in favor of conversation.

   Jennifer feigned an offended look, acting as if she was surprised Crystal would be leaving her soon. The truth is, had Crystal not wanted to save up all the money she could for the trip to the mountains, her fourteen-day notice would have already long since been sent.

   “Are you going to try and get a job with your drawings?” Jennifer asked, even though it was a question Crystal felt confident she already had the answer to.

   Although, decent as an artist, Crystal never really saw herself as one. “I’d have to find someone who would actually be willing to pay money for me to do my drawings.” She always figured she’d follow in her mother’s footsteps and work in culinary arts in some form. However, in a bit of irony, it was a fellow chef trying to steer her away and encourage her to go with her own ambitions and blaze her own trail.

   “It only takes one submission to completely change your life,” Jennifer reminded, perking her eyebrows up in a matter-of-fact way.

   Since meeting Jennifer, her aspirations for art had increased ten-fold. She started sending her work out and made a conscious effort to practice on a more regular basis. What she had learned above all else was that blazing a trail for oneself was very difficult to do.

   “Yeah, but I have enough student debt to drown a fish, so I don’t really put much eggs in that basket right now.”   “You’re too quick to forget that you’re only twenty-three years old, Crystal. When I was your age, I didn’t have a clue what I was going to do with my life.”

   “Yeah, but I am going to have a bachelor’s degree in Art, which is pretty much just as bad.” Crystal said, unable to suppress a small laugh at herself.

   Jennifer glared at her for a second, pretending to be irritated. “You have all the time in the world, and you have talent. The kind of talent that most would kill just to have. It might not look like much to you, but this place was my father’s pride and joy, and he came from nothing, working almost thirty years in the mines. I am not saying it will be easy, but I see nothing but bright things in your future.”

   Jennifer smiled at Crystal, who reciprocated just like the old lady had.

   “Thanks, Jennifer.”