Of Cards and Castles

Of Cards and Castles – Part 1
by
Tommy Linarcos

I woke up first, realizing where I was. I was home, in my bed. My red-and-black The Batman and Sydney Sweeney posters confirmed that. Something was different, though. I wasn’t alone. Rory was with me. Rory was naked. Rory was the little spoon in my bed.

Then I remembered. My arm was loosely hanging by our sides, by my thigh and his ass, but I draped it back over him and pulled him closer. I let my hand stroke his skin, and felt him curl his back into me in reaction. He was probably in that morning twilight, like I had been — just sensations, no active thought. My hand drifted south and I found he had morning wood, just like I had. I began to stroke him awake.

“Johnny…” he groaned, “it’s my turn. Let me fuck you…”

“Not yet,” I replied.

I listened to the house, trying to decide who was up and who was where based on its creaks and any muffled voices. I didn’t hear anyone. I looked at the clock; it was after 9:00am. It was a Sunday. Dad would be out doing dad things, already, and Mom would have just left to do the weekly shopping. Scott was probably asleep, which wouldn’t matter, anyway. And Olivia lived in another state, now.

I moved and rolled Rory onto his back and gave his cock a good sucking, just enough to get him interested and reaching for me, but then I pulled off and sat up, rolling to the bedside. Rory looked at me like I’d betrayed him. “It’s after nine. Time for us to get in a shower.”

Rory scrunched his brows, trying to figure out why the time mattered, or why he needed a shower, or why he needed a shower now. “I can shower when I get home.”

“No,” I corrected him, swiping at his bed-head blond hair sticking up. It had caught a ray of sunlight, and looked pretty cool, kind of a halo effect. The sun was hitting him just right and, though his chest was hairless, you could see all the little vellus hair glowing across his front. He stretched a bit, then, elbows up, and I noticed his sparse pit hair was lighter than his pubes. I don’t know why I noticed that; I just did.

I leaned in and kissed him. He pulled the back of my head in tight and kissed me harder. A full minute later, I broke the kiss. “No, it’s time for us to get in the shower…”

I pulled his arm but he just slid across the bed, until it hit him what I’d said, and he did his best to follow me. Then he stopped me. “I’m still naked,” he said, noting his blond cock was still hard and pointing the way.

“That’s the best way to shower,” I snarked, not answering his concern. “Only Scott’s home. Mom might’ve looked in on us before she left, so now she’s seen you naked, anyway.”

That seemed to satisfy him and concern him at the same time, and we both left my bedroom and went across the hall to the washroom, remembering to pull fresh towels from the linen closet. Rory was first inside the glass shower enclosure, trying to figure out the on/off/temperature handle, but he got it.

I stepped in and slid the door closed. Rory took ahold of me and pressed my body to him, as if he needed to remind me that we weren’t just there to freshen up. He wanted to kiss me some more. Last night, I finally gave in and kissed him. It just felt right. It was during a time of passion, and it felt right. I don’t think I could do it in front of anyone else, and I don’t think he would, either, and I don’t think I could ever do, like, hello and goodbye kisses, but while we were together, it felt right, and I wanted to.

He started by kissing my neck, and my ear, and my shoulders, and my chest, while we got thoroughly wet. And then we just made out under the hot shower for a while.

We backed away from the spray. I took the bottle of Old Spice Nightpanther body wash and shot a helping on my chest, which Rory immediately caught before it slipped down and off my body, then he spread it and lathered me. I shot some on him, too, and mirrored him. In the soccer team showers, we might smack each other around, but we would never have done this, the way we caressed each other, loving the slickness, making sure our pecs and arms were clean sliding across each other, making sure the other’s ass was very, very clean, and certifying that we had the cleanest cocks in the whole county.

“Nightpanther,” Rory recognized. “Now I’ll smell like you. That’s gonna confuse the hell out of Mia when I fuck her silly, later.”

“It’ll bring back good memories,” I said, thinking I was joking, but I caught the pause in Rory’s action. “I meant that in a good way, or something,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean, like… I was just trying to be… Ah, fuck.”

I had to look at him. He had to see my eyes to know that I didn’t mean that like it sounded, that I was sorry. When I saw him, his eyes were big — bigger than normal now that his hair was wet. And so blue. And there was a hurt, still, in his eyes, and a suspicion. I was undoing all the progress we’d made last night.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I meant what I said yesterday. Mia’s yours. I know you’re in love, and I’m sorry.”

Rory seemed to nod, or it might have been him just letting some water roll away from his face. He turned me around, shot some more Nightpanther on his cock and on my ass, and fucked me.

I took it.

It had been a hell of a week.

On Monday, we had the day off from school, and everyone gathered at my house and we played a sexy game of Clue — going in pairs into different rooms to investigate the “murder” with each other. Some pairings were a tease, some were sexual dreams come true. It ended on a bad note, and I had to leave or someone was really going to get killed.

But honestly, it was me who got killed. When I couldn’t get Lyla, I wanted to steal Rory’s girlfriend, Mia, but they declared their love, and I was convinced to put away my feelings and let them be. I have such real feelings for Lyla, though, and… it was a great day for us, for me and Lyla. Even with the pairings and sexual escapades, we were… so close… I could see it in her eyes. God, even my brother said he saw it in us. How we were together. But it all ended with her fucking her “boyfriend” Conor, right in the frontroom in front of everyone, right in my face. And it just tore my fucking heart out!

My brother and his girl, Fiona, tried to run interference and handle damage control, but I just hid in the basement until everyone left. The next day at school, I stayed away from the group, didn’t join them in the cafeteria or anything. I had to see Lyla each day in Spanish, Health, and Geometry, but I was quiet.

It was Wednesday when Mia caught me and pulled me to their table — our table — in the caf. “Come on, Johnny. You can’t hide.” I came with and sat down — because I really wanted to.

I wanted my friends. There was this guy Costa there, too, and this chick from Belgium named Silke; I didn’t have them in any classes but I’d gotten to know them this past month. I wanted to see Rory, again, but I didn’t want his parasite friend Conor around. I wanted Lyla, and I wanted her to get rid of Conor, too. And even though I promised to lay off wanting Mia, I still wanted her. We kind of ended our Clue round together by promising to sneak off sometime and take a day out together, without Rory, without Lyla.

“Where’ve you been?” Lyla asked. “We missed you.”

Did you really miss me? Lyla? Did you? Get rid of fucking Conor and you won’t miss me! I wanted to say. I wanted to, but I didn’t. “Just had to concentrate on my work. We’re doing Rime of the Ancient Mariner in Alpha English and I have to memorize part of it, and analyze all of it…” I rambled.

But I think they knew I was making up a story, and they let me get away with it. They all remembered how the day ended on Monday. Conor probably didn’t, though, he was so high.

Lyla was in the other Alpha English class, so she knew I might not be lying. “The big poem with the guy with the albatross around his neck?”

“The albatross around your neck, you mean…” I said quietly, nodding toward Conor for her.

I brown-bagged it that day, so opened my lunch and dug in. It shut me up. I let them talk around me.

But then Lyla brought out a little plastic box with a deck of cards in it. She showed it to me. “What’s that?” I had to ask. She obviously wanted me to.

“Old Maid. My mom gave this to me when I was little. It was actually my grandma’s, then it was hers, and now it’s mine,” she said proudly, like it was Show-n-Tell. She then lay all the cards face up on the lunch table, and we made room for her when she needed more space. They were all pictures of funny-looking people, all in their work uniforms, or specific modes of dress, anyway. She put identical ones on top of each other until she had 21 pairs and one card with an old lady on it.

“I deal out the cards, and you have to make pairs. If you have a pair, you put it down. If you don’t have a pair, you have to take a card from someone. We keep going in turns until all the pairs are gone, and whoever still has the Old Maid is the loser,” she explained. It was a simple game.

I picked up one pair of a character called Milkman Mo. He was in a grey uniform carrying some milk bottles, and a bunch of cats were attacking him, begging him for some milk. “These are funny,” I said. “And worn. Did you, like, play with them…?”

Lyla knew what I meant. “I used to make up stories about them, like characters, like they were paper dolls. Like Fifi Fluff and Greenthumb Gert.” She held up a young, rich lady wearing a fur stole and walking her dog, and a woman working in her garden wearing a big, floppy hat. “I imagine they’re like the Country Mouse and the City Mouse. Fifi comes to visit her cousin in the sticks, and meets all the country boys. Dopey farmer Hayseed Hank has no use for girls, and Lasso Louie, the sharp cowboy, figures she wants him because he’s the greatest, but she really likes Arnie Angler, the fisherman – a real man!”

“I don’t know – look at the size of Lasso Louie’s cock!” Conor said, getting into the story.

“That’s just the crease in his bluejeans,” Mia shook her head.

“I don’t know. Why would you draw a crease like that? Guy’s huge!” Conor pointed.

Rory noted the rich lady was kind of cute, but snobby. “Fifi is what Scott calls my sister, Fiona. That’s her nickname.”

“That doesn’t look like her, though,” I said. “All fancy with furs and a French poodle…”

Rory pointed to another card. “No. Tumbledown Tess looks more like Fiona. A real cute blonde.”

“But Fiona has grace,” I reminded him. “Tumbledown Tess has fallen off her skis!”

“Still looks like her, and that little expression on her face?” Rory was really studying the cards. “I can hear her saying, ‘Ooof!’ when she falls. Look at her mouth…”

“You are in love with your sister!” Conor poked him.

“Shut up,” Rory said and slapped Conor’s head. I wanted to do that.

“Milkman Mo is cute!” Mia pointed to the card I first picked up.

“He likes Careless Carrie, the waitress,” Lyla informed us.

“She’s cute. Kind of skinny but cute,” I said.

“She’s dropping everything!” Mia didn’t see it.

“That’s because Milkman Mo has come to deliver the milk to the restaurant, and the cats follow him in!” Lyla said, reliving her stories. “It’s all funny while they try to catch the cats and shoo them outside, and they both wind up on the floor, and he steals a kiss from her!”

“What about Postman Pete? Doesn’t he visit the restaurant every day?” Mia asked.

“Yeah, and he likes Carrie, too, but he’s a cheater,” Lyla said, a grim look on her face. “Look at his porn ‘stache. He’s actually married but he pretends he’s not.”

“The creep,” Mia pronounced.

“Which one are you?” I asked, figuring she had to have a favorite, a stand-in for herself. “Alto Annie?”

“The opera singer in the red dress?” Rory asked, pointing.

“Yeah, she’s blond like you, and has big boobs,” I kidded.

“She has huge boobs!” Lyla laughed.

“Fifi Fluff has nice boobs, too! Can’t see Tumbledown Tess’s, but maybe you’d know,” Conor said, slapping Rory.

“Shut up.” C’mon, Rory, hit him back…

“Alto Annie goes with Freddie Falloff because he dresses fancy,” Lyla explained. Freddy was a rich guy dressed to go fox hunting. “I used to think he was a ringmaster from the circus in his top hat and red coat. I didn’t know he was all Downton Abbey and riding hunting horses until later, but he still gets to kiss Alto Annie.”

“So, which is your favorite? Which one is you?” I asked.

“Ballet Betty,” Lyla admitted with a smile.

“She’s got your hair,” I said.

“And your boobs,” Rory noticed.

“And she has nice legs,” Lyla pointed out. “You might think she’s heavy, but that’s just the angle of her tutu. She’s got a good figure. But she’s not perfect. She’s lost one of her slippers.”

“So, who did you match her up with?” Mia asked.

“She and Alto Annie are fighting over Freddie Falloff. See, the circus is in town and that’s why we have Clancy Clown, but he’s one of those silent clowns and never says anything. He likes Betty, too, but it’s not gonna happen because he’ll never tell her. So sometimes, Ballet Betty walks the tightrope at the circus, so that’s when she sees Freddie Falloff.” Lyla’s whole fantasy was coming back to her.

“But Alto Annie gets him?” Mia asked, involved with the soap opera, now.

“Yeah. Billy Blaze the fireman likes Betty, too, though,” Lyla said like a secret.

“He certainly has a big hose!” Conor pointed to the card.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t shoot much,” Mia said, scowling at Conor.

“This is a kids’ game? Look how he’s holding that hose! You see that, right?” Conor said.

“Hard to miss!” Rory agreed.

“Might not put out a fire, but that’s a huge cum load!” Conor laughed. “Tell me you never saw that?”

“Yeah…” Lyla sighed. “I thought it was like he was peeing. I didn’t know about cum when I was little.”

“Which one did you want to be your boyfriend?” Mia asked.

“Milkman Mo,” Lyla smiled. “But the Indian boy Heap Big Talk has the best body. He has a cute butt. And I can imagine him when he gets out of the buckskins. I think he’s sexy.”

“So does she wind up with him?”

“No. No woman owns him,” Lyla said dramatically. “He has his way with her and rides off into the wind. She probably winds up with Lasso Louie.”I was just gonna scare ‘em

“Not with the fireman?”

“Well…” Rory picked up the story, “Billy Blaze lives at the firehouse for two weeks at a time, right? And Lasso Louie goes out on cattle drives. So they balance each other out.”

“Which one loves her?” I asked.

Lyla thought on that.

“She doesn’t know,” Mia answered instead of Lyla.

“Is she in love with either one?” I asked, for clarification, both of the game and real life.

“She doesn’t know,” Mia answered, again, with a warning in her eye.

This was obviously code. But was Mia warning me about me, her, and Rory? Or informing me about Conor, Lyla, and me?

There were seven of us at the table. Lyla shuffled the cards and dealt us each six or seven cards, and we played the game. Lyla gave us more story tidbits as pairs were put down on the table.

“So, what’s the sexy version of this game?” Costa asked, placing down a pair of Crazy Cops.

All play stopped.

Rory took to consider that. “Well, we’ve done a bunch, but it’s no fun when fooling around is just a reward for winning.”

“It’s no fun?” I asked.

“You know what I mean,” he rolled his eyes. “Like when it’s not a part of the actual game. Like when we did Clue, it was part of the investigation.”

I didn’t want to think about Clue Day with Conor sitting on the other side of Lyla. Same damn black Superboy t-shirt. He’d better have a fleet of them…

I whispered into Lyla’s hair, “I prefer when we played Operation…”

“That was fun. So was looking for clues in the closet, though…” she added, quietly.

“You’re ripping my heart out. You know that.”

Lyla just took a breath. Then she addressed Mia and Rory. “The sexy version of Old Maid is sexy improv.” She held her lips tightly pursed and looked like a cat-and-canary deal. “We draw cards and have to act out a sexy scene.”

“As the characters, of course,” Mia agreed.

“Of course,” Lyla confirmed.

Mia continued, “Your entire storyline is sexy. We could dress up, put on a play, and then…”

“This is like a podcast,” I recognized. “Each episode deals with different townsfolk, and there’s a cliffhanger… Lyla needs to write all her stories down and script it out. Then we all do the voices!” I got a few amazed looks from around the table. It was a good idea, though Lyla gave me a look like she didn’t want to have to do all the writing!

Costa wound up being stuck with the Old Maid, that first game. We wanted to play again, but there wasn’t enough time before the next class.

After school, we met up by our tree. I was still mostly quiet. It was Wednesday, so I didn’t have any after school rehearsal, and soccer was over. I miss soccer practice, and the matches. I’d find a winter sport, but it’s hard enough balancing Orchestra with Soccer and then with Baseball in the spring.

Anyway, Mia and Lyla had an idea that we could go to Mia’s place and try to play Sexy Old Maid before her mom got home from this charity thing she does. Like we could take on characters from the deck and act out stuff, and Lyla could maybe use it for her podcast story. She really liked my idea, I’d found out.

So, we got there, settled in and got to it. We weren’t exactly sure when her mom would be home, but Mia assured us it would be no sooner than five o’clock.

I’m not sure what I expected, but… I was at least hoping to play someone who would kiss Lyla. Kiss her in front of everyone. In front of Conor. Maybe I could join Rory and Mia, again, if it did actually get sexy, and we had time to do something.

Lyla put the stack of cards on the coffee table. We were going to pick random cards and invent a scene for the characters, like improv.

Mia picked the top card. It was Diver Dan. Rory drew Clancy Clown. Both tried to think of how to handle a scene — and how to make it sexy.

“You said the clown doesn’t talk, right?” Rory asked.

“That’s right,” Lyla confirmed.

They took the “stage” in front of the TV.

“Hey, Clancy…” Mia began.

Rory said, “Honk, honk!” pretending to squeeze the bulb of a large horn.

“Yeah, I’ll be going down into the ocean again, real soon. You want to go for a ride with me?” Mia had no real clue, but gave it a try.

“Honk-honk?” Rory asked. “Honk-honk honk honk honk-honk…” he said with a big grin.

Mia didn’t quite know what he said, but the way he ‘honked,’ she was sure it was dirty. Rory dropped to his knees and raised Mia’s skirt, then started drawing down her panties.

“Hold it, hold it, hold it,” Mia warned and stopped the action. She looked to Lyla. “Is this really what you want?”

“No, you guys are doing it wrong,” Lyla shook her head.

“I think I do it pretty well…” Rory told Mia’s skirt.

“No, you can’t just say ‘Hi! I’m the clown! Let’s have sex!’” Lyla complained.

“That’s exactly something a clown would say!” Conor said.

“I didn’t say anything,” Rory reminded her. “I honked.”

“No, that’s like those dirty stories Conor is always reading online. ‘Hi, I’m Trixie and I just moved in next door,’ ‘Great! Let’s have sex!’ And where the guy writing them says at the end ‘What should I do next? Send me your ideas.’ And then what was a good story suddenly has the mom come in, then there’s a dog with socks on, and grandpa pees on everybody…” Lyla devolved.

“What? Those are good stories…” Conor said, perturbed by the attack on his lack of taste.

“Sounds like you’ve read a few,” Rory kidded her.

“I like the love stories with sex, not the…” Lyla visibly shivered.

“Rory likes the brother-sister ones…” Conor kept at it.

“Shut up,” Rory muttered.

“Maybe don’t make the characters random, then,” Mia advised, getting back on track. “Let’s do the waitress and the milkman,” she put to Rory.

“Careless Carrie and Milkman Mo,” Lyla confirmed. “Ready positions… and… scene!”

Rory had run out the front door and came back in. “Good morning, Carrie!”

Mia picked up a magazine like it was a tray, and put empty cups and leftover Halloween candy on it. She looked at Rory. “Mo! Oh, my! Boy, am I glad to see-…” and she tripped, tossing the contents of her tray in the air and all over Costa.

“Costa! You are Arnie Angler — you just came in for a bite before you head off fishing,” Lyla directed.

“Carr-rrie! Not agaiiiin!” Costa/Arnie whined comically.

“Oh, Arnie! I’m sorry!” Mia said, starting to wipe Costa’s head with a couch pillow.

“It’s alright. I was bound to get wet today at the river, anyway.”

Lyla ran into the scene and sat beside Costa. “I’ll take care of it, honey. You get those cats out of here or they’ll eat all of Arnie’s bait!” Then she whispered aloud to Silke, “I’m Greenthumb Gert. You’re Fifi Fluff.”

Rory/Mo reacted. “Oh, golly gosh darn it! Those fuckin’ cats!” He spun around until he was face-to-face with Mia/Carrie. “Let me help you, my darling. Are you ready for today’s… ‘milk’ delivery? Any ‘cream’ today?”

“Mo, you’re terrible!” Mia/Carrie said. Rory/Mo got down on the floor to help her pick up the candy and stole a kiss from her. “Mo! What will people say?”

“They’ll say ‘Hey! Look! It’s that cowboy and the city cousin with the poodle!’” Rory called, then got down to making out with Mia on the floor.

I knew my prompt, then. I was going to be Lasso Louie. I jumped up and took Silke’s hand. I talked like this cowboy called John Wayne. “Wellll, Fifi, this here is what we like to call our chuckwagon, but we don’t usually have to eat off the floor like them two is doin’.”

Silke was on top of it. “Louie, oh my. Do they serve cat here?”

“Waaal, our new president likes to think so. I’ll run ‘em off.” I took out a finger-gun and aimed.

Lyla jumped up. “No, don’t shoot ‘em!”

“I was just gonna scare ‘em…” I said.

“Hello, cousin,” Lyla/Gert said to Silke/Fifi. “What brings you to town?”

“I was looking to hire someone to take me on a cruise of your majestic river. I was told there was a man with a boat for hire here. A real man,” Silke/Fifi said.

“Yes… you got it!” Lyla whispered.

“This here is the man you want, Miss Fifi,” I said, pointing at Costa. “I’ll take my leave and talk to Gert, here, about… ‘planting’ things in her garden.”

Then Conor ran in, a little upset that he wasn’t given a character, yet. “Hey, what asshole’s been shooting up the town?” he demanded. “I’m the fireman, by the way.”

“Don’t you mean Crazy Cop?” Lyla asked quietly.

“No, the fireman, with the big hose for a dick,” Conor corrected. He picked up the fireplace poker and held it between his legs. “And you should be that ballet chick with the boobs, ‘cause the fireman likes her, not the garden chick.”

I thought Lyla was going to argue, but she did spin into a pirouette. “Billy Blaze! There’s no fire here. Don’t go getting in a fight over little ol’ me.”

“Miss Betty, you do yourself a favor and stay away from this character,” I warned. “There was a fire at the theater, remember? And he showed up pretty damn quick. Suspicious, if you ask me.”

“Well, no one fuckin’ asked you,” Conor said to my face. “Now get outta my way. The ballerina and I have a naked date in Mia’s bedroom.” And he pushed me.

I saw red. I grabbed him by his shirt with both hands and pulled him away from Lyla. “We don’t talk that way about our women folk in public. You seem to make a habit of it.” I don’t know if I was just ‘staying in character’ or if that was really me talking, but I was gonna haul off and belt him — hold him with my left and punch him with my right, even with my brace on that arm.

Lyla got back in-between us. Even Mia got up from her make-out with Rory to pull me away.

I picked up my jacket and backpack, and headed out. I didn’t need that shit, again. I don’t know how the rest of their skit went, or if they even continued, or had an orgy in character. With Conor there, I wasn’t going to be alone with Lyla, anyway. So, I said fuck it, and went home.

In my room, I took off my wrist brace and whipped it against the wall. Then I picked up my guitar and tried to play something to calm down, but I was still too angry. I pulled out my cello and played out my anger with “Eye of the Tiger” along with the 2cellos video on YouTube, and practically destroyed my bowstrings, picturing myself punching Conor in the nose. Then I practiced Vivaldi’s “Winter” for our winter concert. I calmed down. My brother was home, by then, and had Fiona with him; she said my cello sounded good and liked my intensity. Great, now I’ll need to picture Conor when I play the concert.

The next day, I gave lunch another try.

“Hey, Johnny,” Lyla said, sliding next to me at our table, a nice curl to her hair today.

God, she was killing me. As soon as she sat down, I could smell her. Something soft and powdery. Not a perfume or post-PE body spray, but… maybe a mix of whatever she put on plus… just her. Maybe there was a perfume on her sweater that landed there when she sprayed, but I knew her scent. If I hadn’t been looking, I would still have known she was beside me. I could not see her for a whole year, but if I smelled her scent, I would recognize it instantly and look around for her.

“Hey.” I wanted to say something like ‘Good afternoon, beautiful,’ but I’m just bangin’ my head against the wall.

“Game of Old Maid?” she asked, taking out her deck from her fashionable pink lunchbox.

“Of course, but we need to get these two in,” I said, referring to Rory and Mia. “I don’t want to win too easily,” I told her with a wink.

“What makes you think you’d win?” Lyla asked for fun.

I was speechless. My mouth opened, I smiled, but I couldn’t say it. Because I knew I wasn’t going to win. Not where I wanted to.

Rory saved me. “Here. Let me shuffle, this time.”

We were joined by the others, but didn’t play until we were done with sandwiches so we could hold the cards.

“I’m sorry about yesterday at Mia’s,” I told Lyla. “Did the rest go okay, or…?”

“Ah…” she thought about it. “Not really. Not as far as story ideas go, no.” If there was any sexy business, she figured I wouldn’t want to know about that, and she’d be right. “But I did like seeing people actually being my characters, so it gave me a couple ideas. I’m gonna try writing a ten-minute episode, and see how it goes.”

“That’s cool,” I said. “You’re a great writer. You can do it. Let me know if I can help.”

“You can write a funny commercial for me until I get a sponsor!” she laughed.

I meant it about her being a great writer. I’ve seen some of the stuff she’s written for her Alpha English class, and I remember stuff from last year when we had that class together. Her friend Ava stopped by right then, and at first it looked like Conor thought she was there to see him, but Ava and her spoke about Lyla joining the school newspaper and what article she might have on her mind.

“See? You are great,” I commended her.

When we got to playing, I don’t know if I predicted it, but everyone got rid of their cards but me and Lyla. I had Diver Dan, the deep-sea guy getting attacked by an octopus, and she had the other Diver Dan and the Old Maid card. I had to pull a card from her. Would we switch ownership of the Old Maid? or would I get Diver Dan and win?

I got Diver Dan.

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I didn’t want you to lose.”

“It’s okay, I’m the Old Maid…” she sighed, yet smiled at me. That big, bright, toothy, Lyla smile.

I put my hand on hers. “You’d never be an old maid if I have any—”

“Cut it out!” Conor butted in, knocking my hand away. “I let you fuck her once, so what d’you…”

That was it. I stood up and smashed Conor in the face.

Because he was half-standing — one knee on his seat — he flew backwards and careened across the aisle into another lunch table. It was close to the end of the period, so there wasn’t a lot of food knocked around, but it made a lot of noise, and a lot of fuss. Girls jumped out of the way, and guys started chanting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” but Conor didn’t get up too fast. Mr. Keating and some teacher lady I never met came running over. Mr. K held me back, and the lady and some guy from Track picked up Conor, who was bleeding from his nose.

I was taken to the Office, and Conor to the nurse. I explained how Conor insulted Lyla and deserved the punch. The Principal called my dad, and my dad was like, ‘If my son hit him, the kid probably deserved it.’ I love my dad.

I spent the rest of the day in ISD, and was suspended for the next day, Friday. Principal said I should be out for three days, but said he would pretend Saturday and Sunday counted, and hinted real hard that I shouldn’t have hit Conor “in school, at least.” Principal’s cool, too.

I kept my distance from “the gang” after I got home. There were a couple texts about what happened to me and how Conor was. The thing that got me was that Lyla was stuck having to baby Conor since he was the one that got hit. What did I want to have happen, anyway? Her to jump up and say to him, “Good for you! Now, I belong to Johnny!” Yeah, maybe I did. She had to have heard what he said, or at least how he said it, though. Fuck.

Continued in Part 2

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