Smoke Fight Ride

Chapter 1

"C'mon man, lets be real here the only reason you're smart is because your Asian. Must be a birth defect" If Kit had a dollar for every Asian remark said in his presence the overwhelming funds would equate a Saturday night lottery winning. Jesse Pyke, is close friend.

Not so close they slept over at each other's houses but not so foreign Kit considered him an acquaintance, his mother considered him 'a joke' and 'part of the wrong crowd'. He finds every possible opportunity to stab oriental barter his way. "I'm Thai, dibstick." Kit snaps back between mouthful swallows of homemade tofu, courtesy of his mother.

Sure he could be an ass when it came to his Asian origin, but he was never racist (more or less) as far as racism goes. 

Kit might not be gay like Jesse, but he can appreciate his almost feminine features he tries to disguise with product heavy hair, dampening his blond locks to appear a darker shade and complementing his burnt inner eyes... Despite this observation Kit swears he isn't gay.

Well not completely.

"Yeah, yeah whatever, same thing to me." His eyes trail after an out of his league older male, shirt so tight it clings to bulging muscles like a second skin with trendy jeans tight and loose in 'all the right places' as he frequently reminds Kit on a regular basis. 

"So how 'bout it, joining the last year of Pop Culture club for us seniors?" Another pleasing figure of attractive feature beholds his view temporarily as the chair beneath him collapses replacing the sight with the gum covered underside of the cafeteria table.

Hauling Jesse to his unstable feet Kit bares his trademark look of 'you should've listened to me when I told you to stop swinging on the back chair legs'. 

They resume their seats eating in positions now opposite each other, "I'm not sure man, my parents want the best possible grades so I can 'secure my future in a prestigious high income occupation' or whatever they usually say. Not sure any clubs are gonna make that cut." After a moments pause disrupted by the scraping of spoons against plastic containers.

Jesse asks instinctively, "So that's what they want, but you on the other hand...?" He trails off waving a chicken covered fork airily, eyes willing stimulation of his response.

"I plan to rob the richest bank in town post graduation and live off the moneys worth for the rest of my days, preferably alone on a deserted island." He stuffs more tofu —now cold— into his mouth savouring the taste. 

"How long'd it take you to memorise that soliloquy?" Jesse says through a large mouthful of chicken, juice dribbling down his chin. And you wonder why you can't get a man... Kit thinks to himself.

"How long did it take you to learn what 'soliloquy' means?" A mutual mischievous grin ends the discussion. As they gather their litter and disperse of their contents in the appropriate bin —or risk a diabolical lecture from the schools groundskeeper, notorious for such one sided conversations lasting over an hour, the longest being four— they return their navy trays to their corner stacks. 

Kit and Jesse make a beeline for the first final period of day one, senior year.