That's Life

Chapter Three:

My integration into the group was a more organic process than expected. At lunch Ash would already be sitting with Brain and either Daniel or Geisha would spot me. They wouldn't shut up until my butt hit the seat and soon enough I found my regular spot next to Geisha at the end of the table.
            In other news the end of the first semester is today, so that means I'll be saying goodbye to my economics class and hello to government. And out of all the teachers I could have possibly received I got Mr. Vega, which means the first project of the new semester will be a community service project. Don't worry though, it's only worth 50% of my final grade. It's not like I'm worried or anything, of course I'm not. I've never had a worry in my life. What does worry even me? I'm rambling, I apologize.
            Mr. Vega's class room is what some might consider stuffy I on the other hand think it's classy and the smell of moth balls is comforting. I walk in and take the seat next to the window, everyone else seems to be dreading this just as much as me, that could be a good thing because at least we can all bond on our mutual distress. And since everyone has a partner in this class, that means everyone is compatible. Is it obvious I'm trying to make myself feel better?
            Someone plops next to me and I'm more than happy to see Daniel's smug face. Why am I so happy to see him? "Well, hello, Partner." He waves his arms around the class room, "Isn't this exciting! Two boys bonding over the education of... Wait what class is this?" He asks with a laugh.
            "I want a different partner." I joke looking around for someone else, "This is Government. You sure you're in the right class?"
            "Is this room 122 with Mr. Vega?" He asks looking down at his new schedule.
            "Yes, it is."
            "Then yes I'm in the right place!" He sits back in his chair and spreads his legs; our knees are touching. "You're taking the notes, right?"
            "Ha. Ha." Mr. Vega walks in and everyone goes silent. This guy must be at least 70 and he's dryer than the paper on which the constitution was written.
            He writes his name on the board than address the class, "Hello, I'm Mr. Vega. You're Government teacher. Welcome. I'd like you to turn to the person you are sitting next to and introduce yourselves since this will be your partner for the rest of the year." Daniel and I turn to each other and shake hands. "Now I've been teaching for about 50 sum years now and so I just like to get to the point. What that means for you is that you will have only two projects this semester. The first one being a community service project with your partner worth 50% of your grade and the second is a surprise until April... Any questions?"
            Daniel's arm shoots up in the matter of a millisecond, "Yeah, I've got a question?"
            "Yes, Mister...?"
            "Ah, Sinner, Sir. My question is what exactly does this project entail?"
            Mr. Vega sighs and picks up a stack of papers and hands them out to the class, "The project consists of you and your partner completing 10 hours of community service, which is worth 200 points. Then, an essay detailing everything you did and what you learned worth 100 points. From there you'll complete 5 packets which will take a week to complete each, every packet is worth 40 points tallying to a grand total of 500 points."
            The class moans in anguish. "Thank you, Sir." Daniel looks back at me and whistles. "This should be fun."

            After class Daniel and I walk down the hall together in silence. From what I've gathered this is actually a good thing, he only talks a lot when he's nervous and when he's silent that means he's comfortable. And apparently when he's comfortable, so am I. He's got his books tucked under one arm and keeps in stride with me. "What do you wanna do for the community service project?" I ask him as we go along.
            "I don't know, do we have to decide already?" He asks looking down at the course paper in my hand.
            "It says here we have to have it done by next week on Monday." I show him the line.
            "Are you kidding?" He reads it over and groans, "Mr. Vega is such a stickler." He hands me back the paper... "What do you want to do?"
            "I really don't care."
            He rolls his eyes, "I can't make all the decisions, Michael. When we hung out last week you made me chose then, it's your turn now."
            Last week, as if I could forget. The day he drove me to school and has been every day since then. When he said we should hang out, he wasn't kidding. We probably drove around for an hour just deciding what to do, finally he suggested we go to Golden Gate Beach. A little touristy, but since it's winter the wind wouldn't have been as cold. So, we basically just hung out there until one a.m. Throwing rocks and not really talking. We kind of just sat there. A naked guy playing frisbee by himself was our cue to get going.
            "Fine." I stop to think about all our options, "How about we volunteer at Golden Gate Park and pick up trash."
            "Oh, hell yeah!" Daniel wraps his arm around my shoulder, "I can see us now, in our orange vests."
            "Is that a yes or are you mocking me?"
            He puts his hand on his chest offended. "It is not a yes my young, Michael."
            "We're the same age."
            He shoves his finger against my lips, "Sh. It's a hell yes."
            "Okay then, you wanna do this tomorrow?"
            "As long as I don't have to plan anything, I don't care when we start."
            "Tomorrow then."

**

            We drove there the next day after school and picked up, to Daniel's disappointment, our green volunteer vests. They told us where everything was and handed us the supplies we needed and soon enough we were off picking up people's garbage.
            Daniel stands on the field outside the flower conservatory and uses his gripper to pick up a dirty diaper. "No offence, Turtleneck, but this may have been a terrible idea." He says shuddering as he puts the diaper into his trash bag.
            I walk around picking up random plastic bottles, "You said I got to choose. Plus, we are outside in the fresh air. Even if it's 50 degrees..."
            He picks up an empty water bottle and tosses it at the back of my head, "I'm freezing my ass off and I didn't even get to wear an orange vest."
            "Stop your whining and pick up trash." I say throwing the water bottle back at him. He dodges it and catches it in his bag. Why does it have to feel so casual with him? I'm supposed to hate him, I can't keep doing this...
            "We could have fed the homeless." He sighs, "Or we could have been candy strippers." He starts to laugh, and I look over to see why. He points at me and says, "I would pay to see you in that little pink dress."
            "What did Jolene see in you." I flip him off and he walks over to me with his bag.
            "Rude." He takes out the grounds map and crosses off the section we're in. "Where to next?" I point to the tennis courts, "Alright, Turtleneck."
            We walk down the hill and wait for the cars to stop streaming down the street, so we can cross. I look at the side of Daniel's face and see a tiny mole in the shape of a heart. It's kind of cute... God damn it stop, think of Joe. Think of Joe. I look back at it and feel myself start to yearn for him. I visualize my lips on his cheek kissing the little heart, taking a deep breath and smelling his skin. I wonder what Daniel smells like, I've never been close enough to tell. The mustang smells like a mixture of soccer gear and the lemon car freshener he has hanging on the rearview mirror, but that doesn't tell me anything. He doesn't wear cologne and he uses unscented soap. Maybe he has sensitive skin? Am I being creepy?       
            "Michael? Hello?" Daniel waves his hand in front of my face and then smacks my cheek. "Earth to, Turtleneck?"
            I close my eyes and shakes my head vigorously, "Sorry."
            "Why were you staring at me?" He asks visibly uncomfortable. He wipes his face, "Do I have something on me?"
            "I wasn't staring at you." I say defensively. No cars come around the bend, so I cross the street before him.
            "It's okay, I'm a master piece." He jogs across the street and meets me on the other side. "Oh! By the way, the first soccer game of the year is this Monday and your presence is 110 percent needed there."
            "Ah... Sports aren't really my thing."
            "Too bad, you're going. It's starts at 6:30." He opens the gate to the tennis courts and holds it open for me.
            "I'm not going to know what's happening." I complain dropping my trash bag next to the gate and sitting down on a bench.
            He sits down next to me and picks up a stray ball under the seat, "You don't need to know what's going on, just look for number 8 and watch me." He bounces the ball and catches it, "Just come, okay?"
            "Fine!" I grab the ball, "Ash will be there anyway watching Brain. She'll keep me company."
            He puts his arm behind me on the bench and leans back, "What's going on with Brain and Ash?"
            I stretch out my legs and our feet touch, neither pulls back. "Doesn't Brain talk about her?"
            "He does... Won't shut about her actually." I feel his fingers brush the back of my neck.
            I clear my throat, "Yeah, she won't stop talking about him either." I slowly turn my head and look at him, he's sitting so close.
            He looks down at my lips and I can feel his foot cover mine, "What's she been saying?"
            I tilt my head and have to look down, "Getting recon for Brain?" I guess.
            "Got to help a brother out..." He moves closer to me, if that's even possible.
            "Info for info?" I ask, he agrees with a nod. "She really likes him, says he's amazing and would like nothing more to be his boyfr- Girlfriend..."
            Daniel swallows and I watch his Adam's apple move up and down. "Same here, he told me he wants to ask her to be his girlfriend after the soccer game..."
            "I'll tell her to wear something nice." I get an idea, a way to get Daniel alone with me again. "Hey... What are you doing on Friday night?"
            He licks his lips and grooms back the pieces of hair that have fallen in his eyes. "Nothing currently, why?"
            "This band Universal Horror is playing at Café Du Nord and-"
            He pulls back and brings his arm into his lap, "Wait, isn't that in Castro District?" His face says it all, I knew it, he's repulsed by me, repulsed by the question.
            The Castro District is the notorious hot stop for lgbtq nightlife (and day), Rainbow flags hang from every light post and men galore. It's a landmark. It's historic. Ashton even took me to Twin Peaks Tavern on my 18th birthday because she knew how much I love it there. But it's not for everyone and by how drastically Daniel's body language changed in the last two seconds, he's one of those people. "It's not exactly... It's on market street..."
            He scrunches his lips up and picks up his trash bag, "I don't know about that, Michael..."
            "Why not?" I say defensively, but a reel myself back in. Don't get over worked in front of him, don't let anyone see you that way. "You have a problem with gay people?" I ask nervously.
            His eyes widen, "What? No, of course I don't... But what would our friends think. Just the two of us going to Castro."
            "They wouldn't care." I get up and grab my bag, getting back to work. "Sorry if I pinched a nerve."
"Michael." He groans. "You... You didn't pinch a nerve."
"If you don't want to go to the concert with me, it's fine. Just be up front, man." I say ignoring him as I pick up candy wrappers.
I can hear his frustration, "What does this band even sound like?"
My face lights up and I spin on my heels to face him, "They're a classic goth band."
"A classic goth band, eh?" He takes a deep breath and let's go, "Alright, Turtleneck. I'll go see Universal Horror with you."
I raise my fist in the air like Judd Nelson at the end of Breakfast Club, "Sweet! It starts at 10, be at my place at 9."
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
"I kind of guilted you into it." I shrug tossing him the tennis ball.
He catches it and smirks at me, "You did. There is no doubt you did."

**

            When I got home that evening my back was killing me and my feet had blisters from the constant walking. Not to mention Daniel kept nagging me to race him and I finally gave in, he beat me of course because I haven't biked in almost two weeks.
            The front door of my apartment won't go open all the way, so I give it a good couple shoves until it breaks free. I stumble into the apartment and see the garbage bag I left for my Pop still hasn't been taken out. Locking the door, I hear something not expected. Coughing. So, the dead beats awake, that's refreshing.
            "Michael." His voice sounds like gravel, "Get me my cigarettes." He points over to the kitchen counter.
            A new pack of camels sits still wrapped, "I thought you quit." I say tossing them into his cupped hands.
            He doesn't say anything back and focus' all his energy in unwrapping the box. His hands shake pathetically, "Where were you today?" He asks through a disgusting phlegmy cough. "Tank called and said the yard was closed."
            I open the fridge and bend down looking for anything to eat. "I was doing community service, Pop."
            "Community-" His sentence is cut off by another fit of phlegm. "Service? When did you get arrested?"
            "I didn't" I find a box of crackers in the pantry and walk toward my room, "It was for a class."
            He grabs the back of my jacket and keeps me from leaving, "I don't give a shit." He says sternly, "And give me some damn respect and look at me when I talk to you." I look down at him, his eyes are red and blood shot, and his teeth have a yellow twinge to them. "You work for me, Son. If you want time off, ask me first. You make me look bad enough by the way you dress, I don't need you not showing up to do your job."
            "You're doing a great job of that all by yourself." I yank myself out of his grip.
            "What the fuck did you say to me?" His voice warns me not to push his buttons, but I can't resist. This may be my only chance.
            "You fucking heard me!" I yell back at him, "I do everything around here. I keep your god damn business a float and what do you do? Get fucking drunk, pass out, and spend all the money I make on whiskey and beer. You're pathetic, Pop. No wonder Mom left us, she didn't want you."
            His mouth starts to twitch, and he is seeping anger and reeks of piss. "Well guess what, Michael she didn't want you either."
            "Fuck you..." I walk away from him and head down the hallway.
            He calls after me and I can hear his breathing get heavier as he struggles to get out of his chair, "Come back here, Faggot!"
            I watch him stand from his chair, take one step, and fall on his face. I want to laugh at him and point, make him feel all of my pain... But all I manage to do is shake my head, "The first time we've talked in a month and you call me a Faggot... Look at yourself." I kick open my bedroom door and slam it behind me, making sure to click the lock so he can't get in. Falling on my bed, I set the crackers on the floor and pull out my phone. I see a text from Ashton. In all caps she wrote, CALL ME!!! Not tonight. I toss my phone on the bedside table and lay with my hands behind my head.
            Am I happy with myself? I finally got to tell him off, but did it make me feel any better? No, of course I don't feel any better because he's still knee deep in shit and I'm still stuck taking care of him. I could leave, sure, but it would forever be on my conscience if I saw on the news one-day Local Alcoholic Dies of Liver Malfunction Alone in His Apartment. He's my burden... As his son it's my job to take care of his drunk ass.
            Then to top off the dramatic Sunday, there is Daniel Sinner. To whom my Pop loathes, well his father, I don't think my Pop has even met Daniel. I've spent so much time hating him, wishing Daniel was never born, wishing Joe never bought that damn Mustang. But here I am, in contemplation, wondering if maybe my hate for him has turned into something else. And if it has, can I even trust it? Is it real or is it my subconsciousness way of getting back at Pop? Nothing says fuck you like fucking the enemy's son... But what if I don't just want to sleep with him, what if I want something... more?
            Rolling over I pull out an old beat up notebook with various pages ripped out. When my Mom was still here, she always told me in times of trouble, to make a list of all the bad and good things... That weighing these things against each other will give you the right answer.

          Pros:                        

·        He has been nothing but kind to me
·        He gives me rides to and from school
·        He actively wants to spend time with me
·        He has a mole in the shape of a heart
·        He's not his father

        Cons:
·        My Pop hates Joe Sinner and so do I
·        He drives the mustang
·        He most likely is not into guys, which is not really a con because I don't want to date him
·        He is white collar and I'm not

            I think this list accurately describes how I feel. It's clearly obvious that I should not pursue Daniel, because that would be a mistake resulting in too many people getting hurt, including Ashton because if I were to pursue Daniel, he might reject me and then he'll tell Brain and Brain will want to cut ties with Ashton. This is completely rational, I'm saving all parties here.
            My phone is in my hand before I can stop myself. I click on Daniel's icon and tap my foot waiting for him to answer. "What are you still doing up, Michael?" He yawns after answering on the second ring.
            Come up with something, Asshole... "Do you want to go with me to a tattoo parlor tomorrow? I'm getting a tattoo." What the fuck? Why did I say that?
            "Couldn't this have waited for tomorrow?" I can hear him sit up and turn on a lamp.
            "Yeah I didn't think of that..."
            We're both silent for a while and only our breathing is indication we're both still there, "I'll go with you." He decides.
            "Cool. Okay."
            "Goodnight, Turtleneck."
            "Goodnight."
            He hangs up and I drop my phone down on the bed... This would be a good thing... If I wasn't deathly afraid of needles.