Episode 9

Chapter 20: Karl

4pm

I went into the usual chat room online. Maybe PuckPusher 3000 would be on today. She really seems to be an interesting young lady. Of course with my luck she's 43, weighs 305 pounds and is male. To quote a Meatloaf song, 'you never can be too sure about the girl'.

Me?

You can be sure about me. I'm Karl Whittiker. German on my mother's side, English on my father's. I turned 18 last year. Despite the promises of my ex, I remained a virgin. In fact I broke up with her that night. I don't mind waiting if that's what the girl wants. I absolutely hate a girl who promises something for months, and then says it's never going to happen. She promised when I turned 18, we'd have sex. We'd both be legal then she said. No court problems to be worried about.

It wasn't the courts she was worried about.

She worried about what would have been said if she gave it up to me. At least that's what I think it was. She wouldn't tell me. After the 15th vague evasion I had had enough.

You see, I'm on one of the fringes of high school society. I'm a nerd. Well not as nerdy as Jacob Stone, but I certainly was smarter than most kids in my classes. I certainly dressed nerdily. My redeeming grace was that I was on the school volleyball team. They would laugh when I was on the skins teams. They'd stop laughing when I started playing. They'd end up putting so many players on me that scoring of the other players in combo shots became too easy.

So I hung out in the internet chatrooms.

I suppose it's the only way for me to get a relationship.

I was after all, looking for girls to date, not to cyber.

Any idiot can get some by cyber.

And I was not going to share my emotions and feelings with a faceless illusion.

Ah. PuckPusher 3000 just came in.

I started typing. "Hi, oh punisher of hockey pucks :)"

"Hello you basher of volley balls. :D"

We know more about our sports lives than who we really are.

Hmm. She never sent that grin before.

Perhaps it's time to change that. "Want to switch to IM?"

"Sure. My MSN screen name is the same as my room one."

"Same here." We switched over. "We never exchanged names."

"Sure we did. How do you think we are holding this conversation?"

"You know what I mean. Our real names."

"Oh that. You really want to know more about me?

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Most guys are scared of the fact I swing a mean hockey stick."

"LOL. Only most guys?"

"The others tend to be more violent than a game of NHL hockey."

"That's legal???"

"LMAO. Probably not. But I don't stay around long enough for them to get a shot at me."

"You're safe with me. I save my violent tendencies for the stubborn weeds in my mother's vegetable garden."

"I've got those too. One time I get so pissed off I took my hockey stick back there to have it out with them."

"A very scary sight I bet. What happened next?"

"My mother agreed with you. She caught me as I was getting close to the veggie garden. She asked what I was up to. I said in my best game voice that I was going to have it out once and for all time with the weeds."

"*Dying of laughter here* What did your mom say to that?"

"She said she'd rather have an industrial size combine do the weeding then me that day. She thought more of her plants would survive the encounter."

"Your mom was probably right."

"Krissy."

"What??"

"You wanted to know my name. It's Krissy."

"Hi Krissy. I'm Karl."

"Hi Karl. You know, we've never really asked about each other. You seem to be a nice guy."

"Gee, thanks. Nice guys never get any dates. Girls want the bad guys."

"Not all of us."

"I can only hope. What would you like to know?"

"We can start with the ASL questions."

"Age, 18. Location, King's Creek Maryland. Sex, I only wish I got some."

"No comment."

"Seriously, I'm male."

"Ok. I'm 17, live in Oldsmans and female."

Chapter 21: Krissy

4:08pm

"That close?"

"Why did you say that? What state are you in?"

"Maryland. I typed that earlier."

"That's right. Babysitting a rambunctious toddler can get distracting."

"I believe it. What state you do you live in, as if I hadn't guessed already?"

"Maryland."

"Great! The crabby state has an angel in it too."

"Angel? That's sweet. But you haven't met me in person yet either."

"I'll risk it."

"Brave man. Soon enough. You have a picture?"

"Of me or of my parrot?"

"Of you, silly. I'll trade one of me."

"Ok. Email me at Rallyball2003@msn.com."

"Ok. Send mine to hockeybitich@msn.com."

"Ut oh. Got to go. Dad needs his truck unloaded. Be on later tonight?"

"You bet I will."

We both signed off and I opened the picture.

Boy what a geek. If he started with this pic, I'd have never believed a sports comment he made. But that wasn't what really shook me. I thought I saw him someplace before. The high school I go to is big enough for there to be guys I never met there. Plus I usually didn't hang out with the geek fringe. Even after the Stone/football team battle last week, the geeks were not totally respectable.

But there's something more important. Unlike every other guy online, he did not try to get sex from me on the first conversation. We've had at least eight conversations so far, and he hasn't even tried to cyber with me.

There's also the fact I'm not perfect. Or even what most people expect in a high school teenager. For one thing, I'm thin as a rail. Don't get me wrong. They would not kick me out of bed. Then again, a girl would have to be dead and decomposing to get kicked out of bed.

I'll chat with him some more. If I keep getting good vibes, I'll meet him at some mall. Even if I was voted 'most likely to become a threat to all men' by my eighth grade class at Beansteer Elementary, I still want to do this with some common sense.

Chapter 22: Jacob

Personal log (voice), J. J. Stone, Captain of the Hades, 7:20pm, October 29th 2006.

I returned home from the flight and did very little all afternoon.

Dinner was a box of cheese noodles. I didn't feel like cooking. But after reading the note from Tiffany, I wasn't going to eat out. The look my face would have had between that note and my brother's death would have made road kill out of the server.

For the fifteenth time today I reread that note.

I must be a glutton for punishment.

Jacob,