- Text Size +
Story Notes:

Hey guys, I'd just like to send thanks in advance for reading this soon to be epic! (Kidding! Maybe)
Anyway, I think it's only fair I warn you of some things. This story is heavily moved by character (much more so in the beginning. The end might seem a little rowdy for some!). As in, there is a lot more importance placed in creating a character that I think will become likable to you guys. So, sit back, and discover the awesome story of Art Brenner!

Author's Chapter Notes:

This is the updated version. For all you who read the original, make sure to pay close attention. Details have been added and/or removed that could ruin your experience with the rest of the story.




 

Monday’s were never my day of the week.

It's the beginning of a week that is sure to kick ass. The bones groan and muscles strain to lift your body from the blissful slumber—


Okay, lemme back it up here. Start off with the basics. 


My name’s Arthur Brenner. I doubt we’ve ever met, but I’ll bet you know someone like me. Every class has an Arthur (I prefer being called Art). You know, the smartest, wittiest, most charming, coolest, and best-looking.

I’m kidding. Mostly.

 

Lemme take you to where it all began:

 

MONDAY 


I folded down my cardboard home down and shoved it into a little crevice I called home. Just beneath it, brand-new shoes I’d found a few days before. They were a perfect fit, but I couldn’t bring myself to wear them. I always ended up thinking that they were too new and far too cool to be on a homeless. Besides, people who saw me with them would think I'd stolen them, and the last thing I ever wanted was attention.

 

I treaded the narrow ledge along the sloped concrete and slipped out from under the bridge. I was always cautious here; walk too quickly, and you could end up like the poor guy a couple of weeks ago, who ended up losing a few limbs and several quarts of blood after sliding down and taking a glancing hit from a truck. It’s a callous world, so the only person you should ever look out for is yourself. Write that down, kids.

 

I glanced down at my cheap prepaid phone. The tiny clock on the top flip indicated that I was gonna be late if I didn’t haul ass. I began to run at a quickened pace, not because I'm particularly worried about tardies, but because a phone call to my nonexistent parents would get me kicked out. And to forfeit two meals a day and 8 hours of A/C, for free? I may be stupid, but I’m not an idiot.

 

 I had always been on my own, for as long as I could remember. I don’t know what happened to my folks, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. But what I lacked in family, I made up with street smarts. Looking over my shoulder had become second nature to me. Not much scared me, because there wasn’t much to be afraid of. Darkness? Pah. Baby stuff. Getting raped? Well, I ain’t a chick (sorry, ladies. But we all know a man isn’t gonna get raped as easily as you.) Robbed? There wasn’t jack you could steal from me. Killed? Death would be welcome to try me.

 

 A man with a sharp stick and nothing left to lose can take the day, they say.


After a long jog and a stealthy slip past school security, I dashed into first block at 7:09, out of breath and trying to decide whether or not my heart was going to jump out of my chest. After a few seconds, I figured that I was gonna be OK.

I felt an elbow jab my ribs. “We didn’t think you were gonna make it, man,” said David. The guy was the closest thing I had to a best friend. 

 

I’d met David a while back, outside an art show I was genuinely interested in, while he went just to hang out or make fun of the artwork. But when his friends forgot to mention they weren’t going anymore, he stuck it out with me as I explained the art to him. He didn’t really appreciate it the way I thought he should, but he liked me enough to keep me around, I guess. 

 

“I’m guessing you bet on it,” I sighed with mock contempt. In response, he showed me his cashless wallet and gestured to his left at Rocco, our local kid genius. He was quiet, I was awkward, but David made it up by being the most rambunctious guy everywhere he went. We balanced each other out.

 


“We had a bet going. I was gonna win if you didn’t make it on time. But Rocco here is a thief and a card reader or something,” he said jokingly, and lightly punched Rocco’s arm. “Idiot.”

In response, Rocco smiled toothily and held up about 20 dollars’ worth of money.

Halfway through the class, I felt David poke my ribs again. “Hey man, I almost forgot,” he whispered as he poked my arm and nodded his head across the room to his girlfriend, Kayla. “I just dumped her and told her I was leaving her for some hot chick from the place I’m moving to next week.”

“Dubai?”

“Yeah. I’m not actually dumping her for another girl, I just figured I’d crush her heart on the way out,” he smirked.

I shook my head and turned to see the girl, who was busy giving us not-so discreet nasty looks. I gave her a sympathetic shrug. David may have been my best friend, but I'd be a liar to say he was anything more than a spoiled douchebag. But every guy knows that rule number one of Bro Code is Bro’s before hoes. It applied no matter what; even if my boy David was a little cruel.

As for Kayla, she just raised an eyebrow and faced the front for the teacher to tell us all about the War of 18-flipping-12. 

As the bell rang, I passed Kayla on my way out. She looked at me and grabbed my arm. “Please be sure to give this to David, Art,” she said slowly, as if she were about to lose it if she didn’t watch herself. I felt a slab of metal or something slip into my hand—a memento of some sort, I guessed.

“Sure,” I said uneasily. I pulled my arm away and skedaddled outta there.

I felt bad for Kayla. She had never wronged me, or David, as far as I knew. She had a sweet face and a proud aura, but something about her… just didn’t click. Add to that fact that her best friend, Corday, was one of the creepy freaks of the school, and she made my “do not disturb” list. Corday was on another level, though. She was always alone and very quiet, but I swear, every time we made eye contact, it was as if she was peering straight into my soul.

I ended up losing David in the crowd and decided I would give it to him the next time I saw him. This thing probably wasn’t even worth it, anyway.

I maneuvered through the crowd skillfully and easily, gliding through gaps and spaces. Have you seen The Matrix? Where Keneau Reeves plays Neo, the guy who weaves bullets? That’s me in a busy hallway. My agility and reaction time paired together made me pretty kick-ass, and them’s the fucking facts.


But I guess it was fate (or maybe Karma) that caused me to become so caught up in my bullet-weaving fantasy that I didn’t notice the girl who popped out of the English hallway. I slammed into her, dropping her binder.


“Agh, sorry,” I mumbled out quickly, unaware of who it was. But when I did, I wished I could die.

She looked at me, sighed in frustration, and started to bend down to pick it up. But before she could, I swiped it off the ground.

“Here. I’m sorry, uh... Wiley, right?” I said nervously as I handed it over to her.
She turned it over in her hands, not looking at me. “Erm... duh, Art?” she said after a few excruciating seconds.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and teeter-tottered on my feet. “Isn’t biochem next period?”

She gave me a look—one that involved a narrowing of her pale green eyes—that made me feel so stupid that I just wanted to keel over and die. 

 

“Are… you okay?”


“Right. Sorry.” I cringed. I never needed parents to embarrass me, I did just fine on my own.

“Well, we’d better hurry on up, then. I’d hate to be late,” she said indifferently.

goddamn it. It’s so frustrating to have such a hard time making conversation. It’s not like Wiley and I had never spoken before. We’ve actually spoken quite a bit. But actually being able to say something of substance to your crush is extremely difficult. You guys know how it is. Every time is like the first time. 


Wiley was always that kinda girl who… gosh, how to describe. She was fine, oh so fine.  She had long dirty blonde hair, pale but beautiful green eyes. Really smart. Gentle in everything she did, a leader, a capable person. She had been taking a martial art class, which gave her slim yet toned curves; and that much more perfect. Oh, and straight A’s. Can’t forget that lovely brain of hers.


I had had multiple encounters with her, and each time I would mess up worse than the last time.

The worst one was the time I attempted to flirt. The rest had been sad attempts at conversation.

I mean, her name was Wiley.
Isn't that a beautiful name? A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Which is what I told her as I sidled up casually to her locker.
"Wiley," I said.
"Arthur," she said.
"A beautiful name for a beautiful girl," I said.
"What is? Arthur?"
"No, Wiley."
"What?"
"Wiley. I was just saying I thought it would be a beautiful name for a beautiful girl."
"Oh, really!" she said, giving me serious fish-eye. "It would be, huh? For a beautiful girl. But not for me, huh? Is that what you're saying? You just came all the way over here, acting all cool, to tell me I should give my name to some beautiful girl because I'm too much of a pig to have the name?"
At this point I could have explained. But I had this bad feeling that the moment was past. You know? Like nothing I could possibly say was going to make this work.
"How about if we just say this conversation never happened?" I suggested. "How about if I just turn and walk away?"
"That would be a good idea.”

Days later, she apologized for not giving the impression that she was joking. Hell, I was happy that she had been okay with me, not me with her. I genuinely thought that I had offended her. And although later on, it would become a sort of inside joke between us, it was still an embarrassing episode I wanted to forget.


We barely made to class and took our seats just before the bell. Ms. Net, our Biochemistry teacher, was a young woman. She was always cranky and had a skewed sense of humor, but I guess she was a decent enough woman. On our trip to the Museum of National Science, she had been cool enough to let Wiley and I pair up. Honestly, you could say Wiley had chosen me, because there was no way I would’ve had the guts to-


“ARTHUR!”

“Hughwugoah.” Considering the fact that Ms. Net had scared the shit out of me, I guess that was a reasonable sound. 


“I’VE BEEN TELLING YOU TO GO TO YOUR TABLE-GROUP FOR THE PAST MINUTE!” she yelled, clearly alerting the class to my predicament. To my embarrassment, I could see Wiley already at our table, snickering her face off.

“Yes’m.” I could feel my ears and cheeks burning as I passed her desk. she slapped my chest with a couple of papers and groaned.

“This is your group assignment. Try NOT to zone out again, huh, Arthur? it’s too early for your bullshit.” Behind me, the class could not control their stupid little laugh session. 


I sat down quickly and gave my group their papers. “I wanna die,” I moaned, looking at the ceiling and ignoring the snickers from my group mates: Taylor, Wiley, and Julia. 

 

Lemme give you guys the 4-1-1.

 

Julia was the blonde ditz. Picture a blonde, mall-shopping, spray-tanning bimbo in your head and chances are your imagination conjured up a girl that looks and acts a lot like Julia.

As for Taylor, it’s a little more complicated than that. We go way back. We’d been friends since we were in Velcros. We were what many would label “frenemies”; we would slam each other with insults and go the extra mile to prank or mess with one another, but were generally pretty decent people to one another. Both of us were only children (or in my case, only one in a family), so we became the siblings we never had for one another. Oh, and she was tall as fuck.

“Art. Hey. Buddy. Wake the hell up,” Taylor said, snapping her fingers right in front of my face. I’d zoned out. Daydreaming of a sparkling conversation with the girl on my left.

“What do you want, Taylor?”

“Just wondering when you and Wiley were gonna hook up,” she said casually. She framed us with her fingers and nodded in approval. “Yeah, that’d be a cute couple, right Julia?”
Julia smiled her big cheerleader smile. “Real cute!” She squealed.
“Oh, come on guys. Knock it off,” I uttered nonchalantly, and glanced at Wylie, who was beet-red. Almost like… she was…
“Is that a bwuuuussshhhhhhh??” Cooed Taylor in this sickening baby speak. Poor Wiley could barely get up and out of the classroom without tripping. I contorted my face to hide my own blush and to show my anger, which wasn’t all that hard considering I really did feel like giving them a piece of my mind.
“What the heck, guys? She probably feels terrible for me, she can’t hook up with me, she probably has a boyfriend!” I exclaimed, panting. I didn’t quite know why I was feeling so jittery though. I chalked it down to a bad breakfast that I never had because there was absolutely no way…
“She likes you, Art. And she doesn’t and has never had a boyfriend. Her aunt and uncle won’t let her,” she spit out indifferently.
Nope. No way. Too good to be true. Yep. Had to be. Yep.
“You… you’re lying,” I sputtered out. Julia shook her head and unlocked her phone. “Guys. So clueless!”
I decided to ignore her comment and focus on Taylor.
“Taylor… be straight with me, no jokes,” I pleaded nervously. “Do you really think that-“

“Arthur, I hope to god that you’ve finished your goddamned paper!” Ms. Net roared. I glanced down at my paper as the class began to snicker at me yet again. I hadn’t even put my name on it yet. Julia, however, raised her hand.
“Yes ma’am, here’s my paper. We did it on a single sheet,” she said with a sweet and innocent smile. I glanced at the paper. All she’d written down was 2+2=5 and, knowing her, she probably thought it was true.

Ms. Net gave me some serious stink-eye, but decided to let it go. “Well, alright then, but no more talking. I’m about to start the presentation,” she said, just as Wiley walked in with an unreadable expression. I couldn’t bring my eyes to meet her, though. Gravity does things to your eyes, am I right?
She sat down quietly and after a few awkward minutes, she was back to her normal self. Funny, sweet, happy Wiley. After being assigned homework, I was so excited that I could barely pay any attention to it.
“Art,” Wiley whispered tentatively, maybe even nervously. “You look like you’re having trouble with the homework.”
I took a deep breath and attempted to relax my vocal cords. “Yeah, I am. Too bad I won’t have you around to help me, Einstein,” I whispered softly, gesturing at her paper. The girl was some sort of genius at Biochem; she’d already finished the 2 page homework.
“Well,” she smiled with what seemed to be reddening cheeks, “You could always call me, you know, after school,” she smiled. She stuck her hand in her pockets and produced a little piece of paper with her name and number. It took all I had not to jump up and down and lose my mind. What a fine day it was turning out to be!

After Biochemistry, the day practically zipped on by. I became so lost in my own world that I didn’t hear the bells to the next classes. It was only until the end of the day, in the last block with Taylor, that my world came crashing down. 

 

We were just finishing up our project when she started talking of the days' events out of the blue.

“I told you, she totally digs you, Art,” she teased. But then, Taylor's mood totally changed. She leaned back into her chair and sighed.
“You do know that she’s moving, right?” she asked softly.
I turned to look at her, unable to believe it. And from the way she was expressing herself, I knew she couldn’t have been kidding. You get to know people a decade and change.
“No,” I squeaked out after a few moments of silence.
“She’s leaving some time at the beginning of the next school year.  I just thought you’d want to know that time is limited if you want to make a move, if at all,” she said carefully.
I shook my head and looked down. “Thank you for letting me know,” I whispered.
She grabbed my shoulder from behind and gave me a quick pat. “Make your move, son, ‘fore it’s too late,” she said in a fake southern accent. I shook my head softly and left silently just as the bell released us.

I took the long way to the bridge, mulling over my conflicting emotions. I was glad that Taylor told me, and desperately disappointed that Wiley wasleaving. However, something new, something warm found its way into and around my heart. My crush actually liked me back. Now that’s right out of a fairy tale, but like always, I never could, never would, have myself a happily ever after. After a lifetime of disappointment, I knew I couldn’t afford to let my hopes fly, just for another scar in my heart.

 

I spent the evening watching reruns of various TV shows, on a tiny television I had found behind Radio Shack a few weeks before. Even though the only way to get electricity to it was to hand crank a small power generator continuously, I appreciated the distraction it provided. The burning sensations my muscles generated kept my mind off what was actually troubling me.

It helped too much, I guess, because I didn’t even notice the car that pulled over on the edge of the highway my bridge passed over, nor did I notice the person that clambered out. What did catch my attention, though, were the words I heard.
“Arthur? Arthur Brenner?” Called the school dean.
The school dean! Legally, I wasn’t even allowed to go to school without a home address. I couldn’t control the panic I felt as she walked around, stilettos making echos that sent chills down my spine.

She’s here to collect me, put me in the foster home system, move me away to a school way away. Oh, Universe, I thought sadly. Will you ever leave me alone?

She turned on a flashlight and took a look around, peering at and inside the alcoves of the bridge. Just when I thought she was leaving, I looked up.

I expected to feel relief, but what I did feel was my blood turn to ice when I saw her looking right at me, with steely black eyes.
“Come with me, young man,” she yelled, her hand beckoning me to what I was certain was my doom. I had no option but to comply, and as I entered the car and closed the door, I couldn’t help but wonder if Wiley would miss me.

I sincerely doubted it

 

Chapter End Notes:

I really hope you all enjoyed this first chapter. Please leave your reviews and ratings, and suggestions would be most appreciated. have a wonderful time delving into this fascinating fetish, and read on. :) 

You must login (register) to review.