Thursday (part 1)

Th .1

By the time I had gotten to school, I already knew it was going to be a bad day.

It started with me staying up until about 3 AM trying to study for an English quiz. I may be Derek Strong, naked in school and staggering around under a shitload of problems, but the grade waits for no man. The problem was, I couldn't concentrate. I hadn't spoken to Arie in a couple of days and I was horny. Which was only the least of my problems, but the most easily addressable—shut the door, whip it out, off you go. Pretty simple, right? Except that... It didn't help, and I spent most of the night squirming and trying not to think about Arie; Arie's body under mine, or over mine, her breasts dangling in my face; Arie's face straining towards orgasm; Arie's laughter in my ear as we cuddled together after. And that was bad, because as entertaining as such thoughts are, they didn't help much with the analysis of theme in Carolyn Rizzolo's Morning Light.

When I awoke four hours later, my previous libido seemed to have deserted me; I almost wished it was back, because at least part of me would be alive. I felt like a zombie lurching out from the grave.

My dad agreed with me. "My word, Derek, but you look like something the cat dragged in." He slung a plate of eggs, bacon and toast my way. "How much sleep did you get last night?"

I made a noise that was supposed to be "Not nearly enough" but was probably more on the order of "gblzmpxtrmznktl."

"Your sister asked me to drive you to school today," said Dad. "She had to go in early."

I nodded. Jenny was my normal ride to school, but my father worked irregular hours as a computer consultant and was often available if she wasn't. My mother, a lab technician at the local hospital, was long gone.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell us about," Dad said, saying us but really meaning him. "Both you and Jenny have been... Remarkably quiet as of late. You know we're always here for you."

I warded it off with a shake of my head. "It's just The Program. It'll be over soon." Which was the truth—at least, part of it. I didn't want to get into any deeper detail if I didn't need to. Especially not on only four hours of sleep.

At school, I didn't bother trying to find Jenny; I had a hunch that she simply wanted time to herself, and she could have it as far as I was concerned. For my part, I wanted to talk to Meredith. She'd gone to bed at a totally reasonable hour last night, meaning that I hadn't been able to get her advice or a sympathetic ear while I was bashing my head against several layers of dense, intricately crafted play. Normally I'd ask... Well, we all know who I'd normally talk to. But she sort of wasn't available at the moment. Meredith would do. She wasn't quite on the same wavelength as me, the way that certain other person was, but she would do.

The only problem was, that other person was there, talking to Meredith.

"Hey, Derek. Looks like you're having a pleasant morning. Come on over, we don't bite."

You might not, I thought, trying not to look at the other person. I didn't need to start bawling. But she looked at me; I could feel her gaze burning.

For a moment we just stood there. I looked at Meredith. Meredith looked at me, and then the other person, back and forth. The other person looked at me.

"You know," said Meredith finally. "I'm not the only person involved in this conversation right now. As a matter of fact, there are three people here, and I think two of them may have things to say to each other."

I gave her a hard stare. "I do?"

"Derek," Meredith said. "I know you've been unhappy without her. You know you've been unhappy without her. Is this really necessary?"

She was right, of course. I did miss... That certain person. I missed her a lot. But...

"I'm not the one who screwed up," I said to Meredith. "I'm not the one who keeps overreacting. I'm not going to go begging to be forgiven for somebody else's mistakes."

"Arie," Meredith said, turning to that person. "This is your chance. We just talked about this. Remember what we were saying about—"

"He doesn't intend to forgive me," said the other person. "You can hear it in his voice. He thinks I should just... I'm not going to ask to be taken back by somebody who doesn't want me."

Meredith shook her head in incredulous exasperation. "I can't believe you two are—"

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go talk to your boyfriend now," said the other person, and went to Brandon.

Meredith squeezed her eyes shut, her face scrunching up in a frown. "I can't believe the two of you." She glared at me. "You and your pride, Derek. You and your fucking pride."

I gaped at her. "Wait, did you just say 'fuck'?" Meredith almost never swears.

"Derek, I love you like a brother," Meredith said, trundling on, "but, sometimes... You are a total dumbass, okay? If you had any sense at all, you'd apologize to her."

"For what? She screwed up, not me!"

"She screwed up in walking away," Meredith retorted. "You screwed up in not following her. You screwed up in letting her go. You let go a girl others would give their right arms for a chance at—"

"She didn't like me!" I broke in. "She couldn't stand the idea that I might possibly have other women friends, she—"

"And you're going to let that stop you?" Her eyes drilled at me. "Derek, there comes a point when someone's so important to us that we're willing to change for them."

I felt embarrassingly childish—and angry at being made to feel so. "She should have to change."

"You both have to change," Meredith grated, her voice like ice. "It's called compromise, Derek. It's critical to social relationships. Either you learn it... Or you get used to spending your life alone."

She glared at me. I glared at her. And it was I who dropped my gaze first. She was right. And I knew it.

"I'm sorry," she said, the anger gone from her voice; I looked up to see her covering her face with her hands. "I shouldn't have been so... I didn't get enough sleep last night. I'm tired, I'm cranky, I shouldn't be—"

"It's all right, I didn't get enough sleep either," I said. "I'm just... We're..."

There was a bit of awkward silence between us.

Meredith looked up at me; there was a melancholy smile on her face. "Our Program weeks just aren't turning out the way we expected, are they."

It wasn't easy to see... That person... In class that day. And what made it worse is that Pre-Calc is not the most engaging of topics; I kept nodding off... And then jolting awake, and seeing her back, her ponytail hair, the curve of her cheek.

When it kept happening in Current Events, I gave up. Meredith was right. We needed to talk.

After class was recess, and I packed my books up in a hurry and managed to slide in next to her as we went out the door. Immediately she hung a hard right and veered off in another direction.

Almost I gave up right then.

Almost.

"Arie, wait. Please."

She turned, her arms folded across her breasts. "There's nothing for us to say to each other, Derek."

"What about, 'I love you'?"

Her face didn't twitch. "Like that means anything."

"What about, 'I'm sorry'?"

All expression fell from her face and she simply gazed at me for a moment. Then she said, "Keep talking."

I sighed. "Walk with me?" When she nodded, I set out across campus towards the student store, and she fell in beside me.

"I've... Been thinking," I began. I stared at the floor, refusing to look at her. By looking at her I'd have to admit that she was near. By admitting she was near I'd have to admit that I missed her. By admitting I missed her, I'd have to admit a whole flood of emotions and confusions that would make impossible to even finish my current thought: "About the way we've been reacting to each other this week."

"Did Meredith have a talk with you," Arie said immediately.

I sighed. "... A short one."

"I imagine she told you you're an idiot," Arie's disembodied voice said beside me.

"You too?" I asked.

A silence; and then I heard a sigh. "She said that... She said that I was stupid to let one annoying thing you do, get in the way of all the nice things you do." A pause. "Even if that annoying thing is really annoying."

Meredith hadn't gone into any specifics with me, but the overall gist was the same.

"She also said... Something stupid about compromising." The words were inflammatory, but her voice sounded resigned.

"I dunno," she said. "I don't... I don't wanna be the one admitting I made a mistake."

I grimaced. "I know how you feel." True, I wanted her to be the one admitting she'd made a mistake... But that was exactly what she wanted out of me. And the righteous anger that fed the first wasn't enough to overcome the uncomfortableness involved in the second.

"What if..." I said, still looking down. The narrower pavestones of the Norter Wing area were giving way to the large squares of the central quad; around us was the babble of a thousand students going about their business. "What if we both were to admit that we..."

"Whoa, what's that," Arie said suddenly, and I looked up.

I felt blood draining from my face. "Oh, fuck," I said. "I thought I dealt with them yesterday."

"Dealt with whom yesterday?" Arie said. Without meaning to or realizing it, I glanced at her face. It was a perfect picture of confusion. "Derek, what's going—"

"Look, I've got to stop this," I said. Yesterday they were already thinking about finding someone to have sex with Faith—an action which, as far as I was concerned, was synonymous to drug-facilitated date rape, since Faith was pretty damn clearly incapable of making decisions for herself. "Go find Jenny and—"

"I'm not going to go find Jenny!" Arie retorted.

"Meredith, then," I said. "We'll probably still be—"

"I'm not going anywhere until you explain what's going—"

I hurtled into the crowd, shoving through as fast as I could; but the deeper I got in, the more people started to slow me down, until I realized they were actively obstructing me. It didn't make any sense; hadn't they liked it when I'd busted in yesterday? But then I recognized a lot of faces in the crowd that had been here yesterday; they were yelling for people to make sure I didn't get in.

But that wouldn't stop Arie.

"Go to the center of the ring," I told her. "You wanted to know what's going on, here's your chance. Go. They won't stop you. Maybe you can open a path for me."

Even from ten feet away—ten feet packed with jostling, yelling teenagers—her glare and voice were obvious. "What makes you think I'm even willing to listen to you?"

I felt frustration threatening to cascade from my throat—probably in the form of vomit. This on three hours' sleep!! "Arie." She was wending into the crowd now, coming closer with every moment. "Faith is in there. She's getting fondled, she's getting felt up, she's getting... God only knows what. I don't know if they've even bothered to ask her if it's okay—"

"It's Rule Three, right?" Arie said, grandly unconcerned—and now close enough to slap, should I so desire. "What does it matter?"

"Do you think she's capable of saying no," I asked. "What if somebody just whips it out and has sex with her. What if she gets pregnant?"

"What do you care?" she asked icily.

I bit back the retort that threatened to leap from my tongue: Because what the hell chance do I have with you if I've got two pregnant girls on my hands!! "Don't tell me you don't," I said. "Don't tell me you're just gonna stand there and let somebody have sex with her without her consent."

She faced me, silently, for such a long moment that I began to think that she'd probably call my bluff and go away.

Then she moved past me. "Excuse me. Excuse me? Can I get through, please? I'd like to see what's going on. Excuse me..."

For a moment, I simply stared after her. Why the hell am I bringing Arie into this? And why the hell did she agree? My fuzzy brain glitched and flickered and I couldn't think of anything.

Then I started to push my way through again.

When I got to the center, I gave enough of a glance to confirm that, yes, this was the Molest Faith club; then I looked for Arie. She was standing not too far from me with a stricken look on her face. "I should have gone for Meredith," she said.

"I... Don't think that would've helped," I said.

"Hey, Derek!" said Michael Levine, grinning broadly. I got the impression that he would have shaken my hand if he weren't holding Faith's boobs with them. He gestured to her. "Check it out! She doesn't notice or anything! Isn't this cool!"

"See what I meant," I murmured to Arie.

"Hello, Derek," said Faith, smiling shyly at me. "I'm glad you made it."

"What exactly is going on," Arie said.

"He's a very sweet man," Faith said to Arie, beaming.

"I don't think they're giving her a chance to say no," I said in an undertone. "In fact, I know they aren't. They were doing this yesterday. Didn't bother asking, didn't bother listening, just... Grab."

"I don't like him," Arie said tightly, nodding at Michael.

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah. Neither do I."

"Michael?" said Arie sweetly, pitching her voice so that he could hear.

"Hmm?" said Michael. "Yeah, baby? You wanna join in?"

"Let go of her this fucking instant, or I'll rip your balls off and shove 'em up your ass," said Arie, beaming.

Michael jumped and started, his hands springing away from Faith as though he had been burned. He stared at Arie, open-mouthed.

"Oh, cool," said somebody behind Michael, stepping forward. "Is it my turn?"

"You too, buster," Arie said to him. "Hands off. Show's over."

"Hey!" said the second boy. "It's Rule Three! You can't make me stop."

"Wanna bet?" Arie said.

"How you gonna stop us," Michael asked suddenly.

Arie looked at me with wide eyes. At the time, I figured she wasn't sure of the answer. "Whistle, dumbass," I told Michael, intending to calm her down. "Don't you pay any attention in—"

"Derek," Arie hissed, "you shouldn't have—"

The other boy moved like lightning. His fingernails scraped my sternum and I felt a sudden ripping pain on the back of my neck, a pain that just as quickly disappeared. A moment later, he was standing before me, tossing the whistle up and down with disgusting nonchalance, the broken chain dancing in the air.

"What whistle," he said. "I don't see a whistle. Here, you. Catch."

He tossed it to Michael, who caught it by reflex. At first he was startled, but once he saw what it was, he seemed awfully pleased to have it.

The other boy turned to Faith. "Honey, darling, could I have your whistle please?"

"Well..." said Faith, clearly reluctant. "I don't know..."

It was just as fast as before. "Ow, hey!" said Faith, falling back to where Arie and I stood. Now Michael had two whistles, and we had none.

"Hmm," said the boy, grinning. "This looks like quite a situation. I mean... I don't think you can really stop us, can you?..." He rubbed his hands, turning to address the crowd. "So, guys. We've got these three here in front of us... And they're naked, and they don't seem to have any way of objecting. What do you think we should do with 'em?"

"... So what are these for, anyway," Michael asked, holding up one of the whistles; and before anyone could stop him, he raised one to his lips and blew a long, shrilling note that stopped all movement on campus.

In the silence, Michael grinned like a kid. "They used to use those at lockdown whenever they needed the Muscle Crew to come. God, I've wanted one of these forever!"

The original boy stared at him, thunderstruck. "... You dumbass!"

Michael blew another note on the whistle, and then a happy little tooting pattern. He looked very pleased with himself. Before the other boy could react, I dodged in and grabbed the other one. I didn't know if it was mine or Faith's; I didn't care. Any whistle in a storm.

As I blew on it, I could hear a buzz of chatter start up around us. The members of the ring were beginning to mull around in nervous confusion. And outside, I could hear a deep voice, clearly a teacher: What's going on in there? You folks, clear out! What's going on in—

Arie raised her voice in a distracting scream. "Help, help, they're molesting me! I told him he couldn't but he's touching my—"

Faith, looking around at the chaos with a delighted smile, threw back her head and started singing, or at least yelling in tune: "I love you... You love meee... We're a great big—"

Around us, the entire crowd was dissolving so fast that they might have been disappearing into the ground. Farther out, bystanders were pointing at us; some were running towards us (including an entire flood of our friends out of Stetsen). Teachers were converging on us from all directions; Dr. Zelvetti's face was a bone-chilling mask of anger. Michael blew his whistle as if it were a trumpet.

Suddenly Dr. Zelvetti was there, knocking the whistle out of his hands. "Cut that out! Faith, be quiet!" Arie fell silent in mid-shriek, clearly having noticed the principal's arrival.

Dr. Zelvetti grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around. "Derek! What in hell's name is going on over here!"

"Michael?" Meredith said. "How did you get the whistle?"

"Is everyone okay?" Mr. Trineer was asking.

"I hope they give everyone new whistles," Zach murmured in an undertone. "I wouldn't want to be the one who gets the whistle back from Michael."

Faith gazed about her, beaming proudly. "That was fun. Let's do it again!"

I felt Dr. Zelvetti's eyes on me, trying to drill through layers of dead, sodden flesh to reach what little life remained underneath. "I think," I said, "it all started because I didn't get quite enough sleep last night."

Dr. Zelvetti's eyes lost some of their rage; but her hands on my shoulders remained firm.

When I had a chance to look for Arie again, she was gone.

Th .2

So that was what happened in the morning. But the day wasn't done yet.

When we got to the quad, just about everyone had run off. I had no idea what was going on, because Derek hadn't told us about yesterday's brouhaha surrounding Faith; so when I saw him, her, Arie and Michael standing there, with Dr. Zelvetti bearing down on poor Derek like a runaway train, the only thing I had to offer was confusion. What was going on? Why was my brother there? How did he get a whistle? Why were the chains broken? Where was Arie going?

Hello. My name is Meredith Levine. I'm confused.

It took Derek the remainder of recess to explain what had happened, and, so I understand, a good part of fourth period; when class resumed, the rest of us went off to the places we were supposed to go to. I barely got my head around it to begin with. The idea of people touching Faith wasn't that hard to comprehend; she was very pretty and she'd probably have had her first date by now, if she knew what dating was and could answer appropriately. But if a girl says no, it means no; and if a girl says nothing, it's the same as No, as far as I'm concerned. Especially if it's because you're already fondling her and she's too distracted to answer.

Clearly, though, my views seem to be rather outmoded.

"Do you think it's weird," I asked Brandon, the next chance we had to talk to each other. Which happened to be lunch time. "I mean. Am I old-fashioned and totally obsolete for thinking that, if a girl says Maybe, or even just doesn't say anything, it's the same as No?"

Brandon gave me a dark, guttural look—"Meredith, you're asking me this?" he said, and suddenly I remembered some of his sordid history with Sajel.

"All right, silly question," I said. "But clearly not everybody agrees with you."

"That Faith thing still bugging you," Brandon asked.

"Brandon, what I've essentially found out is that my consent or lack of such means nothing where guys are concerned," I said. "Yeah, it's still bugging me."

He said nothing.

"I mean, what's the definition of rape, then," I asked. "There practically is none. Anybody can just walk up to me and—"

"Sweetie..." he said (which, incidentally, made my heart melt). "I think your situation is a little different than Faith's. You're not... Totally spaced-out like she is. You're... What, I dunno. Conscious?"

"But that's..." I said. "Brandon, what's the line between me and her? What celestial coin toss or dice roll or roulette wheel or whatever made me conscious and her not? What if the situations were reversed? What if... I were just as spaced-out as she is, and she was totally conscious? Would people be—"

His hand slipped around mine. "But you're not, Meredith. You're conscious and alive and beautiful and—"

"What if there was an accident," I said, my voice bitter. "What if something were to happen. A... A car crash. Or maybe I just trip on a shoelace. Now I'm brain-dead, now I'm a vegetable." I looked at him. "Would people treat me like they treat her?"

His face showed a cascade of emotions: confusion, love, doubt, sympathy, empathy. His hand tightened on mine. Finally he said: "Not if I have anything to do with it."

Somehow it wasn't reassuring. But somehow I knew there was no better answer either.

Because it was Thursday, the school was selling slices of local pizza out of the ticket windows of the gym; on our way there, we passed Stasya, Gavin and Jeff at their usual place on one of the benches near the gym; they waved to us and we waved back. On the way back, I said, "... Brandon, I... Would it be... Okay if I ate with Stasya today?"

"Mind if I join you," he asked immediately, as I knew he would. He'd follow me anywhere. He's a bit predictable like that. Which was why I had asked. The group that had gathered at Stetsen... It was all his. All of us were outsiders in some way or another, with the possible exceptions of Zach and Sajel—those two and Brandon are the core, the nucleus, and everyone else is attached to one of them. And, for the most part, the person everyone is attached to, is Brandon. Arie's there because of him (and also Derek, since he's there for her), I'm there because of him, Jane's there because of him... The only one who's escaped it is Christa. What I was asking was whether he needed me at Stetsen for some reason or another. Where he goes, I follow.

"Hi, guys, got room for two more," I asked Stasya. And she smiled and gestured and said, "Siddown," and we did.

For a short while it was just a lot of introductions. Stasya and I had been friends for a long time, but Violet had gone off to other friends and other pastures. That left Jeff, whom I had never known all that well, and Gavin, who I knew even less. And let's not even talk about Erica. Brandon was completely lost. There was a lot of catching up ("You were in The Program last week, weren't you?") and random connections-building ("Oh, Ms. Travers? I had her last year."), which is the human equivalent of smelling each other's behinds, and by the time we were done, everyone was happily acquainted.

Stasya, Gavin and Erica had been part of the sophomore contingent for last week's Program, and Jeff was in it now; we spent some time trading reminiscences and commentary. My friends were especially interested in Brandon's point of view: how had The Program changed since he went through it in September? What did he think of these changes? Brandon just shook his head, bemused. "I'm not all that different from you guys. I just happened to go first."

"You are the oldest one here," Jeff offered diplomatically. "All of us are sophomores. Or should be," he amended, referring to my skipped grade.

"And you went first, which was a high-pressure situation," Stasya said.

"Not to mention Arie," I added.

"Well..." said Brandon. "When you put it that way... Yeah, I guess I am different. But I don't think that makes me, like, a hero or something. They're learning from everybody, not just me."

"Yeah, and how many other people gave a speech about what The Program actually means," I retorted, elbowing him.

He colored nicely. "You're just not gonna let that go, are you."

"Wait, what?" said Gavin. "Brandon made a speech? Like, in public? How come I never heard about this?"

"I don't remember any assemblies during that week of school..." Erica said.

Brandon's face was now an astonishing shade of red. "It's not like that, guys."

"What exactly happened, then?" Jeff asked. Next to him, Stasya grinned. She knew—of course she knew; she'd heard from me. But she wanted to see everybody's reactions.

"No," said Brandon. "I'm not saying another word."

"I'll say it," I said broadly.

"Ugh," Brandon sighed, but I knew he was just playing around. He's modest to a fault sometimes. That was something incredible, what he did, and he should be proud of it.

"He got up in English class on Wednesday and asked for relief," I explained, "and nobody volunteered to help him." Gavin's and Erica's eyes popped open in simultaneous surprise. "So Brandon turns it on its head: he says that everyone else is being derelict in their Program duties. He might have been actually naked, but if the definition of The Program is 'to get used to the naked people's sexualities, ' then he was the only one doing the job right."

"You make it sound like I was accusing them," Brandon protested. "I was just pointing out an inconsistency in everyone's thinking."

"It's a good point," said Jeff. "I mean, so much attention goes to the naked people, but what about everyone around them? We don't pay attention to them very much at all."

"Evidently," I said, the finishing stroke, "Dr. Zelvetti is considering reforming The Program next year in light of what Brandon said."

Stasya frowned, concentrating. "I could see that happening."

Gavin grinned. "What, are they going to call it the Brandon Chambers Naked In School Program?"

"God forbid," Brandon said. "They'd probably make me go naked the whole year."

"I think somebody might like that," Gavin said, innocently, at the same time I said, "I might like that."

We looked at each other, grinning.

"Right," said Brandon, his face in his hands, "I'm never letting you two talk to each other again."

"Aww," said Stasya. "Don't worry, Brandon. I'm sure you'll learn to love it."

"It's got it's advantages," Erica offered. "Like, everyone couldn't wait to get used to my sexuality." She shook her head. "I couldn't ever tell what anybody wanted from me. Maybe they wanted to talk. More likely they wanted to feel me up, or yell at me for being a slut. At least you've got only one person feeling you up."

"Holy shit," I said involuntarily, the words startled out of me by what I'd just seen.

"Why, am I that abhorrent to feel up," Brandon asked, a quirky smile on his face.

"It's Michael," I said, pointing at my brother's retreating back. "Where's he going?"

Brandon squinted.

"Where?" Stasya said, looking around frantically.

"Well, that direction leads out of campus," Gavin said. "—Pretty obviously."

"Yeah, but... We know where he's going, but where is he going?" I said.

"Uh," said Erica. "Sorry, I'm just a sophomore, that didn't make any sense to me."

Michael had crossed the gate that marked the definitive edge of school property; now he was crossing the street. I had no idea where he was headed. I was pretty sure he didn't have any friends who had cars; he himself didn't have one, since our mother dropped us off if Brandon didn't first... And the simple fact was that it was a closed campus. We were surrounded by residential areas on all sides, there was nothing nearby, and we weren't allowed off-campus during school hours. But Michael had long showed an unhealthy disrespect for rules.

I got to my feet. "I'm following him."

"What!" said Stasya. "Meredith, you'll get in trouble."

"Why, where's he going," Erica asked, still totally confused.

"Brandon, can you cover for me," I said to him.

"No," he said, standing up. "Because I'm going with you."

"Oh, God, not two of them," Gavin said.

"Brandon, you'll get in trouble," I said to him.

"So will you," he said.

"So?" I said. "My family. My risks."

"What's important to you is important to me," he said, his hand latched onto mine. "For worse, too, remember, not just the better."

"You're totally—"

"I'm totally serious about this," he said, completing the statement for me. "You're not going anywhere without me."

"If you're gonna go," Jeff said, "it'd better be now, before he takes a crossing street and you lose him."