Cricket, chapter 16
Kiefer stood in front of his mirror, examining himself.
Why the hell am I doing this? It's not like I'm going out on a date. She has a boyfriend, you ass! We're best friends and we're just hanging out. JUST. HANGING. OUT. Fuck. Kiefer, you cunt.
He looked down at his outfit. A black Operation Ivy shirt. Ripped blue jeans. Torn-up skate shoes. He took a can of Axe and sprayed it all over himself. Then some more. A little bit more. More and more and more till eventually, the can was empty.
"DAMN!"
He made his hair a bit messier than usual.
WHY AM I DOING THIS? Fuck, she loves you for who you are! But one, you're her best friend. And two, I repeat again, SHE HAS A FUCKIN' BOYFRIEND.
He shook his head and decided that he looked good enough. Jumping off the porch, he strolled down the sidewalk to Christina's house. Finally, the time came. He was at her porch. Taking a deep breath, he approached the front door. Knock, knock, knock. Footsteps rapidly approached.
"HI KIEFER!" Christina squealed, tackling Kiefer with a hug. He almost melted into her arms, but he made himself snap out of it.
"Hey Christina. You look great. Love the shirt."
Christina glanced at her shirt. Black sleeveless. It said Love & Hate. But Kiefer wasn't looking at the writing. Maybe looking toward it, but not at it. All of a sudden, Christina took a very deep breath.
"Dude! Are you wearing Axe?" she asked.
"Yeah," Kiefer muttered sheepishly.
"How MUCH? You smell GREAT."
"Whole bottle."
"Wow. You go bold. I love it."
Kiefer smiled shyly at this comment.
"So, you wanna go now?" he asked.
"Yeah!"
They jumped off the porch and headed toward the club, about twenty minutes away. Christina gazed up at Kiefer, into his eyes. She never realized how pretty his eyes were. It was sort of weird, almost greenish brown. It was a color she couldn't identify, but she loved it. He wore a smile that she had come to adore. It wasn't the usual stupid grin that he and the other guys had in common; it was the sweet smile that told the world he was genuinely happy. And he smelled great with that whole bottle of Axe he used. Her eyes widened and she shook her head, trying to rid her thoughts.
What the fuck am I doing?! I love Billie! Kiefer's my best friend! And I'm not even sure he likes me anymore! But I'm Billie's girl!
"So Christina, do y'know who's playin' tonight?"
"I think Corrupted Morals and Screeching Weasel are. But I ain't sure."
"Oh. Okay."
It was silent for a minute or two, both friends deep in thought. Then Christina broke the silence.
"Y'know, Kiefer, I think we should skip Gilman tonight."
"Why?"
"I have a better idea. Follow me."
She took him by his wrist and they crossed the street, leaving behind Gilman Street. In no time, they found themselves standing in front of the arcade. Like old times, they both thought.
"Shit. It's closed," Kiefer mumbled.
"Not on my watch," Christina said with a huge grin. She took a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door. Kiefer was amazed.
"Where'd...how'd you get that?!"
"I'm 'friends' with the owner," she said slyly.
"Not fair," he muttered.
They ran in and locked the door behind them. It was dark and all the games were turned off. Christina went and turned them all on and put on some lights.
"I'm gonna whup your poor ass, Kief!"
"Not if I whup you first!"
"NEVER!"
And they put on the 2-player mode of Pac-man. After the intro music played, Christina's Pac-man started eating up the dots and the ghosts were released. The pink and red ones were closing in, as the blue and orange ones were going for each other. But then, Pac-man ate the big dot and the ghosts turned blue and ran away. One by one Christina ate 'em all up. But then, during level 4, the orange one got her. Pac-man evaporated and died with a final bleep.
"HAHA! You died!" Kiefer jeered.
"But I'll be the one that still wins! Get ready, you bastard!"
The intro music sounded again, and Kiefer madly jiggled the control stick around, avoiding the ghosts and eating the dots. On level 2, he died.
"OH YEAH KIEFER! WHO'S DA GIRL!"
"Guh...You."
"I whupped your ass! And now I challenge you to Galaga!"
"You know I'm gonna beat you in that. I shoot space shit better than you."
"You wish!"
"C'mon!"
They rushed to the Galaga game and put it on 2-player mode. Kiefer was up first. His ship blew on the fifth level, all lives were gone.
"You died! My turn!" Christina said, shoving him over.
She played hard. She died on level seven. Then she slapped Kiefer's ass and started cheering.
"I WON! I WON! I WON I WON I WON! OH YEAH! IN YO' FACE, KIEFER!"
They played five more games, in each Christina whupped Kiefer's ass good.
"Okay Christina you whupped me."
"I know. I'm proud of me."
"I wanna go. I been ass-whupped enough. Got anywhere you wanna go?" Kiefer asked.
"Yeah."
She took his wrist again and led him through a big patch of trees.
"Where the hell are we going, Cricket?"
"You'll see."
They got through the trees and found themselves on a big hill, painted blue as night draped over it. The grasses flowed softly with the wind and there wasn't a thing to be sensed except for each other and the peaceful aura around them.
"What is this, Christina?" he whispered.
"It's this really awesome hill someone showed me once. It's a place to think, to wonder, to dream. Come lay down on the grass."
Kiefer did as he was told and found himself in a state of complete bliss. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was great. It beat the night at Gilman by a long shot.
"Hey Kiefer?"
"Yeah?"
"I've had a great night with ya. I'm sorry that I haven't been around much."
"Ah, it's not a problem."
"No Kiefer, you're wrong."
His eyes shot wide open at this. Christina turned on her side and stared at him.
"We're best friends. And I want you to know that ain't ever gonna change."
Something came over their minds at that moment, they didn't know what though. He stared into her blue eyes and she stared into his greenish brown ones. The wind rippled through her hair and his eyes twinkled in the moonlight.
*Christina's POV*
!!#(T&(@!-*!%($@^YTFJVW_)!RU@$gh2qi!GH_
*end of Christina's POV*
*Kiefer's POV*
@#VNIPHRW$@"$IR)!I)#UT@INHVI@QJ#)1ujG...
*end of Kiefer's POV*
Their minds were dysfunctional as of now. They couldn't think straight, for they were too wrapped up in thinking about each other. They found themselves leaning closer and closer to each other when they kissed. Not a friendly kiss like they had shared in the past. A real kiss. They fell into the grass, their arms wrapped around each other, never wanting to let go. This went on for a long time, until something came out of the bushes and started cheering.
"WOOHOO, KIEFER! WAY TO GO MAN! WOOOOOOO!"
Kiefer glared at the shadow and pulled away from the kiss. He let go of her, but still held onto her hand.
"Marcus," he whispered menacingly. But when he turned his head again to get a good look, the person was gone.
Christina was afraid. She looked at Kiefer for an answer, but he shrugged.
*Christina's POV*
Holy shit! I just KISSED him! Sure, I love him as a friend, but do I love him MORE than that?! This is scaring me. And whoever was in the bushes, I really hope they don't tell Billie. I love Billie. I know that. Billie knows that! And Kiefer even knows it! But Kiefer and I, it wasn't like we were fucking, right? It was an innocent kiss, right? Oh shit.
Who do I love? Fuck it, I think I'm in love with both!
And I feel so fucking guilty.
*end of Christina's POV*
"Um, want me to walk you home?" Kiefer offered.
"Okay." She smiled at him and hugged him.
"You okay, Cricket?"
"Yeah, it's just..."
"What?"
"I think I... I think I may be in love with both you and Billie."
"Oh."
Kiefer stared down at his feet.
"Christina, this is my fault. I kissed you and you've done nothing wrong. Go to Billie. He loves you more than life itself."
"But what about you?"
"He chose you before I did. I love you as much as he does. But you guys are head over heels in love. This was my fault."
"Kiefer."
"IT WAS, GODDAMMIT! IT WAS MY FAULT! NOT YOURS! MINE! I..."
Right as he was talking, Christina stopped in her tracks and put her finger on his lips.
"No it wasn't," she said softly. She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed a bright red and put his hand on his cheek where she kissed him.
Finally, they got to her house. Christina turned to him and smiled weakly.
"Kiefer, we both know that I'm Billie's girlfriend. None of this was your fault. It was an innocent kiss. I love you Kiefer. Don't think that I don't. But I'm taken. I love you Kiefer."
She hugged him. Her lips found their way to his and they kissed again.
"I l-love you too," Kiefer stammered.
He brushed away a strand of her hair and smiled at her.
"I really do," he whispered.
She smiled and went inside, leaving Kiefer standing alone in front of her porch.
* * *
Tré burst out of Pinole Valley High School, grabbed a skateboard from some poser kid and slid down the stair rail, trying to look cool.
"Hey you bastard! Gimme my skateboard!" the kid yelled.
Tré ignored him and continued grinding the rail, grinning stupidly. But as he bathed in his moment of glory, it all went down the drain as he fell off, ramming his head on the concrete.
"ACK! OWOWOWOWOWOWOW!" he moaned.
Meanwhile, a few feet away, Christina, Billie, and Katie were having a lovely conversation. Christina looked over at Tré, sprawled out and holding a skateboard over his crotch and moaning like crazy.
"Katie, that is the guy you're dating," Christina whispered, pointing at him. Billie covered his mouth, trying to hold back a laugh.
"Fuck," Katie muttered, then she walked over to him.
"Where is everyone? We gotta go get Mike and Al at the coffee shop!" Billie whined.
"I don't think Kiefer wants to come," Christina giggled.
"I wouldn't doubt it. Kiefer hates that kid," he muttered.
"Hates who?" Christian interrupted, almost as if he magically appeared. "I hate everything."
"Kiefer and Marcus should be here in a minute," Christina sighed. She knew exactly why they hadn't wanted to come. She decided to go over to Tré and Katie because Christian was weirding her out.
"So, um, are Mr. Stupid and Ms. Bitch over there comin'?" Christian growled.
"Yeah. Gotta problem with that?" Billie snarled back.
"No." Christian looked around for a minute and then turned his gaze back at Billie. "I hate them. I hate life. I hate death. I hate my house. I hate you guys."
"Billie! Christian! Kiefer and Marcus are coming!" Christina yelled to them. Billie smiled at her and turned back to Christian.
"You gonna behave, asshole?" he muttered.
"I hate behaving. I hate misbehaving. I..."
"OK! I GET IT! SHUT UP YOU STUPID FAGGOT!"
They all got together and began walking to the coffee shop.
"So Kiefer, I hear that you're have the IQ of a bear," Christian said. Kiefer stared at him, confused.
"Oh shut up. I have the IQ of me, dumbass."
"Are you not a homosexual? I hate homosexuals. I hate homophobics. I hate you. I hate anyone named Kiefer. I hate anyone named Christian. I hate coffee shops. I hate my life."
"SHUT UP!" Kiefer yelled. Marcus began to giggle.
"Marcus, are you not a NEGRO?" Christian said in that same dark, unwavering tone. Marcus stopped laughing immediately and became really mad.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME, BITCH?!"
"Wow! No one's ever called me a bitch before."
"Shut the fucking hell up. I heard what you just called me. And I'm this close to getting a gun and shooting you. And for your info'mation, I'm half-black and half-white."
"So you're a half-breed."
"YOU BASTARD!"
"Marcus, don't do anything but ignore him," Katie whispered. Kiefer held him back.
"I can't! He's worse than that motherfucking mullet man!" Marcus said. This time he was being serious. He was really pissed off.
"Christian, you bastard. We'll ditch you if you say anything like that again," Billie warned him.
"Yes, best friend." Christian sighed, hugging him. Billie was, yet again, freaked out.
"You're weird."
"Thanks, Bill. I hate you."
They neared the coffee shop and caught Mike and Al chatting outside, each with a steaming cappuccino in their hands.
"HEY MIKE! HEY AL!" Billie yelled to them. He got their attention and they came running to the gang. Mike looked over at the dark poser kid and waved.
"Umm, you must be Christian."
"I'm Christian. I live in hell."
"So you know Satan?"
"Satan is my father."
"Oooooooh-kaaaaay."
"My father says you are all welcome to my devil's den anytime you wish. Anyway, you must be Mike Dirnt."
"That's me."
"I am deeply moved by your decision to venture to my devil's den."
"Um."
"Don't say anything." Christian then turned to Al. "You must be Al Sobrante."
"I am," Al said.
"I'm Christian Hill. I hate everything except men with big boobs."
"Cool, I guess?"
"And may I say that your boobs are pretty big!"
"What the FUCK?" Al yelled.
"Satan has taught me much. And most important, smoking shall kill you."
Billie and Tré glanced at each other and snorted.
"Pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Sobrante."
"Um, you too."
"My den is just ahead. You will know which house it is."
They trudged ahead into a neighborhood called The Meadows. It was actually this one little street full of expensive houses. Billie gazed down the street and saw a house that stood out more than any other. It actually looked wealthier than the rest. But it was pink and there was a ceramic unicorn in the front yard.
"That is my den, Billie and company."
"More like a mansion," Tré whispered to Katie.
"What was that, Frank?" Christian asked.
"I said, uh, dick expansion."
Christian stared at him for a moment before saying, you guessed it.
"I hate dick expansions."
"WHAT? I love dick expansions! Billie needs one badly, though."
"HEY!" Billie yelled.
"AND DON'T CALL ME FRANK," Tré warned Christian.
"I love you Franky-poo."
Tré gave him the weird eye, then the angry eye, then the I'm-gonna-rip-your-flesh-and-eat-it eye, but Katie held him back.
"Come, my friends."
He opened the door and they walked in, amazed at the size of it.
"Christian! Honey! You home?"
"Yes, Mother! I most certainly am!"
His mom skipped out of the kitchen. Billie thought that she looked like a 1950's housewife. She came over and smothered her son with a hug.
"Oh! Who are your little friends, Chrissy-poo?"
"Mother, do not call me Chrissy-poo. I will speak to Father about this if you do not understand my terms."
"Yes sir," Mrs. Hill said, rolling her eyes before going back into the kitchen.
Christian turned around to his friends and gestured downstairs.
"Come."
They went downstairs into a black bedroom with red splattered all over the walls. It took on the dark, bloody theme that Christian claimed he lived by. Posters of really retarded bands plastered the walls. Tré looked around and saw a photo frame sitting on a desk. He picked it up, stared at it, and began to giggle.
"What is it, Tré?" Katie asked.
"Hehe! Look at this! Christian has a picture of Madonna!"
Christian heard this and swiped the picture away.
"That is NOT Madonna, you gay pervert!"
"Who is it, then?" Tré questioned him.
"That's my... aunt Dawna."
"Wow. Your aunt Dawna looks a lot like Madonna," Tré whistled.
"I know. Everyone tells her that. But she can't sing or dance. I hate my aunt Dawna."
Then Christian walked away and back to Billie and Kiefer.
"I still think that's Madonna," Tré whispered to Katie. She nodded in agreement. He tapped her farther shoulder and when she wasn't looking, he tackled her to the ground and kissed her.
"NO NO NO! Franky-poo, I prohibit such behavior in my den!" Christian yelled after seeing this happen.
"Oh really?"
"I will not allow this. If you disobey me again, I will make you regret it. And plus, you will not be allowed to venture with us into my father's headquarters."
"Oh fine," Tré pouted sarcastically. Katie and Marcus laughed.
Christian sat on the bed and withdrew a pen and paper pad.
"Okay so since you all are my new friends," he began. Tré snorted. Christian glared at him. "I must give you all nicknames."
"You WHAT?!" Tré squeaked.
"Nicknames, Franky-poo. Nicknames," Christian repeated, pointing the pen at him.
"Billie, I think you should be LoboAlpha."
"Loba-WHAT?!" Billie asked.
"LoboAlpha. I see you as a leader, therefore you are called Alpha. And what better symbol of power than a wolf, a lobo?" Christian explained.
"Oh." Billie still didn't understand. LoboAlpha? What the hell?
"Ah, Christina. Beautiful and lovely. For a punk girl, that is. Your moniker shall be Venus."
"What the hell? Isn't that a planet?" Christina asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Yes, but the planet is named after the Roman goddess of beauty and love."
"Pssht. Yeah right," Christina laughed.
"No, no, baby. He's right for once," Billie whispered into her ear.
"Alright then. I'm Venus," Christina sighed.
"Ah, Marcus. The half-blood," Christian chuckled.
"YOU SONUVABITCH!" Marcus growled. Kiefer gazed at him, amazed. He'd never seen Marcus so seriously upset. Not even with the Mullet Man.
"Anyway, I shall call you GrayAngel," Christian grinned.
"GrayAngel? Ohhhh, this better not be a racial thing," Marcus snarled, clenching his fist.
"Anything but, my companion. But what a coincidence. For what does black and white mixed create?"
"THAT IS IT!" Marcus roared, lunging at the hapless poser. He began punching Christian and kicking and swearing. Katie and Kiefer pulled him off and took him to the beanbag chair to comfort him.
"Al Sobrante, my dear Al Sobrante. Your codename must be fierce, like your style of drumming. You keep a steady rhythm and you are always looking cautiously back and forth, as if not to lose the beat. You are Avalaunch-89er."
"I don't get it."
"Trust me. It fits you well, friend," Christian assured him, putting his arm around Al's shoulder. Avalauncher-89? What the hell was that? Al glanced at his real friends for an answer, but they shrugged as well. Christian walked over to Tré.
"I don't need to think twice about your moniker, Franky-poo. Yours is Vomitbag."
"WHAT? WHY?" Tré yelled.
"Well, Vomitbag, quite frankly, you make strangers sick. You're perverted and disgusting to society."
"No he isn't!" Katie interrupted, standing up and hugging Tré.
"Fine. And you are Indibeauty," Christian countered. "If it were up to me, I would call you Oddball. How could you choose THIS wretch for a lover?"
Tré glared at him and cocked his fists.
"Wait! You don't choose our nicknames?" Billie asked.
"No. Satan tells me. I can talk to Satan with my mind," Christian bragged. "And Satan says that Indibeauty is one of a kind and beautiful, therefore giving her the nickname she has now."
"You aren't an oddball, sweetie," Tré whispered, planting a kiss on Katie's cheek. "Let's leave."
"NO!" Christian yelled. He took Katie's wrist and yanked her to his bed. "You can, Vomitbag, but Indibeauty must stay."
"Why?" Tré asked.
"Satan commands it."
"Katie doesn't like Satan. She likes me. And her REAL friends. And God!"
"GOODBYE, VOMITBAG."
"I'm not leaving without her!"
"Fine then. I guess I will have to put this duct tape on your mouth."
Before Tré could defend himself, Christian had put a big strip of duct tape over his mouth.
"Mmmmrfff! Mmmrffmrrf!"
"You're welcome," Christian laughed evilly. "Anyway, back to business. Mr. Dirnt, I apologize for the wait. You are to be called Thikzeezee. No one can get past you if you put your mind to it."
"Yeah I bet," Mike chuckled, rolling his eyes.
"And Kiefer. Kiefer, you are a being of power and compassion. You are BluMoon."
"Um, yeah, whatever," Kiefer mumbled.
"Alright, now my nickname is WildDog. Now follow me, all. We shall go into my father's office."
Christian led them out of his room and to a big, double-door entrance. He knocked twice. The doors swung open. The group filed in and looked around. Dim candles and chandeliers everywhere. Long fireplaces lined the walls. At the end of the room was a chair. An empty chair.
"Father? Are you at work?" Christian yelled.
"WildDog," a voice boomed out of nowhere. The newcomers jumped. "I am."
"I have summoned my friends here. I would like to introduce them to you."
"I can see them. Go ahead, my son."
"Um,'WildDog', where is he?" Al asked.
"He's still at hell, working. This hour in his schedule is the busiest. The part where he tortures people mercilessly." Christian grinned.
"Um, sure," Mike stammered.
"Father, this here is Thikzeezee. He is a bass player for a punk rock band. He is a potential. He is like a thick wall. No one can get through unless he allows it."
"Pleasure, Thikzeezee," the voice boomed.
"And this is Avalaunch-89er. He is cautious, yet he is strong."
"Ah, dear Avalaunch. The pleasure is mine."
"Nice to meet you, sir." Al was losing it. He didn't even know WHAT he was talking to.
"This is Vomitbag. He's just a sixth wheel."
"Um." the voice boomed. "Pleasure?"
"That over there is LoboAlpha, the leader of their pack. Next to him is Venus, a goddess of beauty and love. Next to her is BluMoon, with whom I have high hopes for, Father. And that half-breed over there is GrayAngel."
"And this," Christian announced, taking Katie by her shoulders. "Is your Indibeauty."
"Finally," the voice cackled, "I meet the prophesized Indibeauty."
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS, CHRISTIAN? A cult?" Tré shouted at him, finally ripping off the duct tape.
"Nope. This is my own Goth world. I have already taken over one club. I'm just asking for some help with my new Goth world." Tré paused.
"Why?"
"Because I am the heir."
"Um. I don't follow goth stuff, so can you guys maybe explain to me what the fuck is going on?" Tré asked his friends. They, all being punk, shook their heads no.
"Stupid punks," Christian muttered. "Well, unless you guys want to stay for supper, you must go home."
They all ran out of the office, but Christian took Katie's arm before she could get to the stairs.
"Wanna hang out next Saturday?" he asked.
"Um, well, thing is, I have this thing to do..."
"Great! Excellent! I'll see you Saturday, m'dear." He took her hand and kissed it. "I expect you to be here. Just you, me, and another of my friends from my former school. Whom I hate, by the way."
"Um, yeah. I gotta go Christian."
"Farewell, then. I hate you."
Katie ran upstairs and caught up with Tré, rubbing her tainted hand all over his shirt.
Why the hell am I doing this? It's not like I'm going out on a date. She has a boyfriend, you ass! We're best friends and we're just hanging out. JUST. HANGING. OUT. Fuck. Kiefer, you cunt.
He looked down at his outfit. A black Operation Ivy shirt. Ripped blue jeans. Torn-up skate shoes. He took a can of Axe and sprayed it all over himself. Then some more. A little bit more. More and more and more till eventually, the can was empty.
"DAMN!"
He made his hair a bit messier than usual.
WHY AM I DOING THIS? Fuck, she loves you for who you are! But one, you're her best friend. And two, I repeat again, SHE HAS A FUCKIN' BOYFRIEND.
He shook his head and decided that he looked good enough. Jumping off the porch, he strolled down the sidewalk to Christina's house. Finally, the time came. He was at her porch. Taking a deep breath, he approached the front door. Knock, knock, knock. Footsteps rapidly approached.
"HI KIEFER!" Christina squealed, tackling Kiefer with a hug. He almost melted into her arms, but he made himself snap out of it.
"Hey Christina. You look great. Love the shirt."
Christina glanced at her shirt. Black sleeveless. It said Love & Hate. But Kiefer wasn't looking at the writing. Maybe looking toward it, but not at it. All of a sudden, Christina took a very deep breath.
"Dude! Are you wearing Axe?" she asked.
"Yeah," Kiefer muttered sheepishly.
"How MUCH? You smell GREAT."
"Whole bottle."
"Wow. You go bold. I love it."
Kiefer smiled shyly at this comment.
"So, you wanna go now?" he asked.
"Yeah!"
They jumped off the porch and headed toward the club, about twenty minutes away. Christina gazed up at Kiefer, into his eyes. She never realized how pretty his eyes were. It was sort of weird, almost greenish brown. It was a color she couldn't identify, but she loved it. He wore a smile that she had come to adore. It wasn't the usual stupid grin that he and the other guys had in common; it was the sweet smile that told the world he was genuinely happy. And he smelled great with that whole bottle of Axe he used. Her eyes widened and she shook her head, trying to rid her thoughts.
What the fuck am I doing?! I love Billie! Kiefer's my best friend! And I'm not even sure he likes me anymore! But I'm Billie's girl!
"So Christina, do y'know who's playin' tonight?"
"I think Corrupted Morals and Screeching Weasel are. But I ain't sure."
"Oh. Okay."
It was silent for a minute or two, both friends deep in thought. Then Christina broke the silence.
"Y'know, Kiefer, I think we should skip Gilman tonight."
"Why?"
"I have a better idea. Follow me."
She took him by his wrist and they crossed the street, leaving behind Gilman Street. In no time, they found themselves standing in front of the arcade. Like old times, they both thought.
"Shit. It's closed," Kiefer mumbled.
"Not on my watch," Christina said with a huge grin. She took a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door. Kiefer was amazed.
"Where'd...how'd you get that?!"
"I'm 'friends' with the owner," she said slyly.
"Not fair," he muttered.
They ran in and locked the door behind them. It was dark and all the games were turned off. Christina went and turned them all on and put on some lights.
"I'm gonna whup your poor ass, Kief!"
"Not if I whup you first!"
"NEVER!"
And they put on the 2-player mode of Pac-man. After the intro music played, Christina's Pac-man started eating up the dots and the ghosts were released. The pink and red ones were closing in, as the blue and orange ones were going for each other. But then, Pac-man ate the big dot and the ghosts turned blue and ran away. One by one Christina ate 'em all up. But then, during level 4, the orange one got her. Pac-man evaporated and died with a final bleep.
"HAHA! You died!" Kiefer jeered.
"But I'll be the one that still wins! Get ready, you bastard!"
The intro music sounded again, and Kiefer madly jiggled the control stick around, avoiding the ghosts and eating the dots. On level 2, he died.
"OH YEAH KIEFER! WHO'S DA GIRL!"
"Guh...You."
"I whupped your ass! And now I challenge you to Galaga!"
"You know I'm gonna beat you in that. I shoot space shit better than you."
"You wish!"
"C'mon!"
They rushed to the Galaga game and put it on 2-player mode. Kiefer was up first. His ship blew on the fifth level, all lives were gone.
"You died! My turn!" Christina said, shoving him over.
She played hard. She died on level seven. Then she slapped Kiefer's ass and started cheering.
"I WON! I WON! I WON I WON I WON! OH YEAH! IN YO' FACE, KIEFER!"
They played five more games, in each Christina whupped Kiefer's ass good.
"Okay Christina you whupped me."
"I know. I'm proud of me."
"I wanna go. I been ass-whupped enough. Got anywhere you wanna go?" Kiefer asked.
"Yeah."
She took his wrist again and led him through a big patch of trees.
"Where the hell are we going, Cricket?"
"You'll see."
They got through the trees and found themselves on a big hill, painted blue as night draped over it. The grasses flowed softly with the wind and there wasn't a thing to be sensed except for each other and the peaceful aura around them.
"What is this, Christina?" he whispered.
"It's this really awesome hill someone showed me once. It's a place to think, to wonder, to dream. Come lay down on the grass."
Kiefer did as he was told and found himself in a state of complete bliss. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was great. It beat the night at Gilman by a long shot.
"Hey Kiefer?"
"Yeah?"
"I've had a great night with ya. I'm sorry that I haven't been around much."
"Ah, it's not a problem."
"No Kiefer, you're wrong."
His eyes shot wide open at this. Christina turned on her side and stared at him.
"We're best friends. And I want you to know that ain't ever gonna change."
Something came over their minds at that moment, they didn't know what though. He stared into her blue eyes and she stared into his greenish brown ones. The wind rippled through her hair and his eyes twinkled in the moonlight.
*Christina's POV*
!!#(T&(@!-*!%($@^YTFJVW_)!RU@$gh2qi!GH_
*end of Christina's POV*
*Kiefer's POV*
@#VNIPHRW$@"$IR)!I)#UT@INHVI@QJ#)1ujG...
*end of Kiefer's POV*
Their minds were dysfunctional as of now. They couldn't think straight, for they were too wrapped up in thinking about each other. They found themselves leaning closer and closer to each other when they kissed. Not a friendly kiss like they had shared in the past. A real kiss. They fell into the grass, their arms wrapped around each other, never wanting to let go. This went on for a long time, until something came out of the bushes and started cheering.
"WOOHOO, KIEFER! WAY TO GO MAN! WOOOOOOO!"
Kiefer glared at the shadow and pulled away from the kiss. He let go of her, but still held onto her hand.
"Marcus," he whispered menacingly. But when he turned his head again to get a good look, the person was gone.
Christina was afraid. She looked at Kiefer for an answer, but he shrugged.
*Christina's POV*
Holy shit! I just KISSED him! Sure, I love him as a friend, but do I love him MORE than that?! This is scaring me. And whoever was in the bushes, I really hope they don't tell Billie. I love Billie. I know that. Billie knows that! And Kiefer even knows it! But Kiefer and I, it wasn't like we were fucking, right? It was an innocent kiss, right? Oh shit.
Who do I love? Fuck it, I think I'm in love with both!
And I feel so fucking guilty.
*end of Christina's POV*
"Um, want me to walk you home?" Kiefer offered.
"Okay." She smiled at him and hugged him.
"You okay, Cricket?"
"Yeah, it's just..."
"What?"
"I think I... I think I may be in love with both you and Billie."
"Oh."
Kiefer stared down at his feet.
"Christina, this is my fault. I kissed you and you've done nothing wrong. Go to Billie. He loves you more than life itself."
"But what about you?"
"He chose you before I did. I love you as much as he does. But you guys are head over heels in love. This was my fault."
"Kiefer."
"IT WAS, GODDAMMIT! IT WAS MY FAULT! NOT YOURS! MINE! I..."
Right as he was talking, Christina stopped in her tracks and put her finger on his lips.
"No it wasn't," she said softly. She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed a bright red and put his hand on his cheek where she kissed him.
Finally, they got to her house. Christina turned to him and smiled weakly.
"Kiefer, we both know that I'm Billie's girlfriend. None of this was your fault. It was an innocent kiss. I love you Kiefer. Don't think that I don't. But I'm taken. I love you Kiefer."
She hugged him. Her lips found their way to his and they kissed again.
"I l-love you too," Kiefer stammered.
He brushed away a strand of her hair and smiled at her.
"I really do," he whispered.
She smiled and went inside, leaving Kiefer standing alone in front of her porch.
* * *
Tré burst out of Pinole Valley High School, grabbed a skateboard from some poser kid and slid down the stair rail, trying to look cool.
"Hey you bastard! Gimme my skateboard!" the kid yelled.
Tré ignored him and continued grinding the rail, grinning stupidly. But as he bathed in his moment of glory, it all went down the drain as he fell off, ramming his head on the concrete.
"ACK! OWOWOWOWOWOWOW!" he moaned.
Meanwhile, a few feet away, Christina, Billie, and Katie were having a lovely conversation. Christina looked over at Tré, sprawled out and holding a skateboard over his crotch and moaning like crazy.
"Katie, that is the guy you're dating," Christina whispered, pointing at him. Billie covered his mouth, trying to hold back a laugh.
"Fuck," Katie muttered, then she walked over to him.
"Where is everyone? We gotta go get Mike and Al at the coffee shop!" Billie whined.
"I don't think Kiefer wants to come," Christina giggled.
"I wouldn't doubt it. Kiefer hates that kid," he muttered.
"Hates who?" Christian interrupted, almost as if he magically appeared. "I hate everything."
"Kiefer and Marcus should be here in a minute," Christina sighed. She knew exactly why they hadn't wanted to come. She decided to go over to Tré and Katie because Christian was weirding her out.
"So, um, are Mr. Stupid and Ms. Bitch over there comin'?" Christian growled.
"Yeah. Gotta problem with that?" Billie snarled back.
"No." Christian looked around for a minute and then turned his gaze back at Billie. "I hate them. I hate life. I hate death. I hate my house. I hate you guys."
"Billie! Christian! Kiefer and Marcus are coming!" Christina yelled to them. Billie smiled at her and turned back to Christian.
"You gonna behave, asshole?" he muttered.
"I hate behaving. I hate misbehaving. I..."
"OK! I GET IT! SHUT UP YOU STUPID FAGGOT!"
They all got together and began walking to the coffee shop.
"So Kiefer, I hear that you're have the IQ of a bear," Christian said. Kiefer stared at him, confused.
"Oh shut up. I have the IQ of me, dumbass."
"Are you not a homosexual? I hate homosexuals. I hate homophobics. I hate you. I hate anyone named Kiefer. I hate anyone named Christian. I hate coffee shops. I hate my life."
"SHUT UP!" Kiefer yelled. Marcus began to giggle.
"Marcus, are you not a NEGRO?" Christian said in that same dark, unwavering tone. Marcus stopped laughing immediately and became really mad.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME, BITCH?!"
"Wow! No one's ever called me a bitch before."
"Shut the fucking hell up. I heard what you just called me. And I'm this close to getting a gun and shooting you. And for your info'mation, I'm half-black and half-white."
"So you're a half-breed."
"YOU BASTARD!"
"Marcus, don't do anything but ignore him," Katie whispered. Kiefer held him back.
"I can't! He's worse than that motherfucking mullet man!" Marcus said. This time he was being serious. He was really pissed off.
"Christian, you bastard. We'll ditch you if you say anything like that again," Billie warned him.
"Yes, best friend." Christian sighed, hugging him. Billie was, yet again, freaked out.
"You're weird."
"Thanks, Bill. I hate you."
They neared the coffee shop and caught Mike and Al chatting outside, each with a steaming cappuccino in their hands.
"HEY MIKE! HEY AL!" Billie yelled to them. He got their attention and they came running to the gang. Mike looked over at the dark poser kid and waved.
"Umm, you must be Christian."
"I'm Christian. I live in hell."
"So you know Satan?"
"Satan is my father."
"Oooooooh-kaaaaay."
"My father says you are all welcome to my devil's den anytime you wish. Anyway, you must be Mike Dirnt."
"That's me."
"I am deeply moved by your decision to venture to my devil's den."
"Um."
"Don't say anything." Christian then turned to Al. "You must be Al Sobrante."
"I am," Al said.
"I'm Christian Hill. I hate everything except men with big boobs."
"Cool, I guess?"
"And may I say that your boobs are pretty big!"
"What the FUCK?" Al yelled.
"Satan has taught me much. And most important, smoking shall kill you."
Billie and Tré glanced at each other and snorted.
"Pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Sobrante."
"Um, you too."
"My den is just ahead. You will know which house it is."
They trudged ahead into a neighborhood called The Meadows. It was actually this one little street full of expensive houses. Billie gazed down the street and saw a house that stood out more than any other. It actually looked wealthier than the rest. But it was pink and there was a ceramic unicorn in the front yard.
"That is my den, Billie and company."
"More like a mansion," Tré whispered to Katie.
"What was that, Frank?" Christian asked.
"I said, uh, dick expansion."
Christian stared at him for a moment before saying, you guessed it.
"I hate dick expansions."
"WHAT? I love dick expansions! Billie needs one badly, though."
"HEY!" Billie yelled.
"AND DON'T CALL ME FRANK," Tré warned Christian.
"I love you Franky-poo."
Tré gave him the weird eye, then the angry eye, then the I'm-gonna-rip-your-flesh-and-eat-it eye, but Katie held him back.
"Come, my friends."
He opened the door and they walked in, amazed at the size of it.
"Christian! Honey! You home?"
"Yes, Mother! I most certainly am!"
His mom skipped out of the kitchen. Billie thought that she looked like a 1950's housewife. She came over and smothered her son with a hug.
"Oh! Who are your little friends, Chrissy-poo?"
"Mother, do not call me Chrissy-poo. I will speak to Father about this if you do not understand my terms."
"Yes sir," Mrs. Hill said, rolling her eyes before going back into the kitchen.
Christian turned around to his friends and gestured downstairs.
"Come."
They went downstairs into a black bedroom with red splattered all over the walls. It took on the dark, bloody theme that Christian claimed he lived by. Posters of really retarded bands plastered the walls. Tré looked around and saw a photo frame sitting on a desk. He picked it up, stared at it, and began to giggle.
"What is it, Tré?" Katie asked.
"Hehe! Look at this! Christian has a picture of Madonna!"
Christian heard this and swiped the picture away.
"That is NOT Madonna, you gay pervert!"
"Who is it, then?" Tré questioned him.
"That's my... aunt Dawna."
"Wow. Your aunt Dawna looks a lot like Madonna," Tré whistled.
"I know. Everyone tells her that. But she can't sing or dance. I hate my aunt Dawna."
Then Christian walked away and back to Billie and Kiefer.
"I still think that's Madonna," Tré whispered to Katie. She nodded in agreement. He tapped her farther shoulder and when she wasn't looking, he tackled her to the ground and kissed her.
"NO NO NO! Franky-poo, I prohibit such behavior in my den!" Christian yelled after seeing this happen.
"Oh really?"
"I will not allow this. If you disobey me again, I will make you regret it. And plus, you will not be allowed to venture with us into my father's headquarters."
"Oh fine," Tré pouted sarcastically. Katie and Marcus laughed.
Christian sat on the bed and withdrew a pen and paper pad.
"Okay so since you all are my new friends," he began. Tré snorted. Christian glared at him. "I must give you all nicknames."
"You WHAT?!" Tré squeaked.
"Nicknames, Franky-poo. Nicknames," Christian repeated, pointing the pen at him.
"Billie, I think you should be LoboAlpha."
"Loba-WHAT?!" Billie asked.
"LoboAlpha. I see you as a leader, therefore you are called Alpha. And what better symbol of power than a wolf, a lobo?" Christian explained.
"Oh." Billie still didn't understand. LoboAlpha? What the hell?
"Ah, Christina. Beautiful and lovely. For a punk girl, that is. Your moniker shall be Venus."
"What the hell? Isn't that a planet?" Christina asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Yes, but the planet is named after the Roman goddess of beauty and love."
"Pssht. Yeah right," Christina laughed.
"No, no, baby. He's right for once," Billie whispered into her ear.
"Alright then. I'm Venus," Christina sighed.
"Ah, Marcus. The half-blood," Christian chuckled.
"YOU SONUVABITCH!" Marcus growled. Kiefer gazed at him, amazed. He'd never seen Marcus so seriously upset. Not even with the Mullet Man.
"Anyway, I shall call you GrayAngel," Christian grinned.
"GrayAngel? Ohhhh, this better not be a racial thing," Marcus snarled, clenching his fist.
"Anything but, my companion. But what a coincidence. For what does black and white mixed create?"
"THAT IS IT!" Marcus roared, lunging at the hapless poser. He began punching Christian and kicking and swearing. Katie and Kiefer pulled him off and took him to the beanbag chair to comfort him.
"Al Sobrante, my dear Al Sobrante. Your codename must be fierce, like your style of drumming. You keep a steady rhythm and you are always looking cautiously back and forth, as if not to lose the beat. You are Avalaunch-89er."
"I don't get it."
"Trust me. It fits you well, friend," Christian assured him, putting his arm around Al's shoulder. Avalauncher-89? What the hell was that? Al glanced at his real friends for an answer, but they shrugged as well. Christian walked over to Tré.
"I don't need to think twice about your moniker, Franky-poo. Yours is Vomitbag."
"WHAT? WHY?" Tré yelled.
"Well, Vomitbag, quite frankly, you make strangers sick. You're perverted and disgusting to society."
"No he isn't!" Katie interrupted, standing up and hugging Tré.
"Fine. And you are Indibeauty," Christian countered. "If it were up to me, I would call you Oddball. How could you choose THIS wretch for a lover?"
Tré glared at him and cocked his fists.
"Wait! You don't choose our nicknames?" Billie asked.
"No. Satan tells me. I can talk to Satan with my mind," Christian bragged. "And Satan says that Indibeauty is one of a kind and beautiful, therefore giving her the nickname she has now."
"You aren't an oddball, sweetie," Tré whispered, planting a kiss on Katie's cheek. "Let's leave."
"NO!" Christian yelled. He took Katie's wrist and yanked her to his bed. "You can, Vomitbag, but Indibeauty must stay."
"Why?" Tré asked.
"Satan commands it."
"Katie doesn't like Satan. She likes me. And her REAL friends. And God!"
"GOODBYE, VOMITBAG."
"I'm not leaving without her!"
"Fine then. I guess I will have to put this duct tape on your mouth."
Before Tré could defend himself, Christian had put a big strip of duct tape over his mouth.
"Mmmmrfff! Mmmrffmrrf!"
"You're welcome," Christian laughed evilly. "Anyway, back to business. Mr. Dirnt, I apologize for the wait. You are to be called Thikzeezee. No one can get past you if you put your mind to it."
"Yeah I bet," Mike chuckled, rolling his eyes.
"And Kiefer. Kiefer, you are a being of power and compassion. You are BluMoon."
"Um, yeah, whatever," Kiefer mumbled.
"Alright, now my nickname is WildDog. Now follow me, all. We shall go into my father's office."
Christian led them out of his room and to a big, double-door entrance. He knocked twice. The doors swung open. The group filed in and looked around. Dim candles and chandeliers everywhere. Long fireplaces lined the walls. At the end of the room was a chair. An empty chair.
"Father? Are you at work?" Christian yelled.
"WildDog," a voice boomed out of nowhere. The newcomers jumped. "I am."
"I have summoned my friends here. I would like to introduce them to you."
"I can see them. Go ahead, my son."
"Um,'WildDog', where is he?" Al asked.
"He's still at hell, working. This hour in his schedule is the busiest. The part where he tortures people mercilessly." Christian grinned.
"Um, sure," Mike stammered.
"Father, this here is Thikzeezee. He is a bass player for a punk rock band. He is a potential. He is like a thick wall. No one can get through unless he allows it."
"Pleasure, Thikzeezee," the voice boomed.
"And this is Avalaunch-89er. He is cautious, yet he is strong."
"Ah, dear Avalaunch. The pleasure is mine."
"Nice to meet you, sir." Al was losing it. He didn't even know WHAT he was talking to.
"This is Vomitbag. He's just a sixth wheel."
"Um." the voice boomed. "Pleasure?"
"That over there is LoboAlpha, the leader of their pack. Next to him is Venus, a goddess of beauty and love. Next to her is BluMoon, with whom I have high hopes for, Father. And that half-breed over there is GrayAngel."
"And this," Christian announced, taking Katie by her shoulders. "Is your Indibeauty."
"Finally," the voice cackled, "I meet the prophesized Indibeauty."
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS, CHRISTIAN? A cult?" Tré shouted at him, finally ripping off the duct tape.
"Nope. This is my own Goth world. I have already taken over one club. I'm just asking for some help with my new Goth world." Tré paused.
"Why?"
"Because I am the heir."
"Um. I don't follow goth stuff, so can you guys maybe explain to me what the fuck is going on?" Tré asked his friends. They, all being punk, shook their heads no.
"Stupid punks," Christian muttered. "Well, unless you guys want to stay for supper, you must go home."
They all ran out of the office, but Christian took Katie's arm before she could get to the stairs.
"Wanna hang out next Saturday?" he asked.
"Um, well, thing is, I have this thing to do..."
"Great! Excellent! I'll see you Saturday, m'dear." He took her hand and kissed it. "I expect you to be here. Just you, me, and another of my friends from my former school. Whom I hate, by the way."
"Um, yeah. I gotta go Christian."
"Farewell, then. I hate you."
Katie ran upstairs and caught up with Tré, rubbing her tainted hand all over his shirt.
