Skin%

07 Chris Crossed

"What the hell are you doing?" Wrecks asked Jordie.

Jordie didn't even turn around on the ladder to look at him. For one thing, there wasn't room.

"I'm putting up a bell," Jordie told him. "If I look up from my sketch pad one more time to find somebody staring at me, I'll flip."

"Oh," Wrecks replied. "I thought you were taunting the folks passing by, with your crotch."

"I'm wearing my jock," Jordie protested, giving the screw a final twist. He jumped down and jiggled the door. The bell tinkled.

"Aww," Twang complained. "I was really digging the view, bro."

Jordie turned to look, and all the guys were standing against the shop's back wall, with big grins on their faces.

"Pervs," he told them, coloring.

"And?" Tower asked sarcastically.

"Hey, you put the goods on display, you have to expect folks will want to look," Ratch shrugged.

"Kinda want to take the goods in back and try 'em out," Twang snickered.

Jordie rolled his eyes, but it was real tempting. He glanced at Wretch.

Wretch sighed. "I'll cover the counter for a while," he said gruffly. "You two ..." He shook his head as Jordie grabbed Twang's hand.

"You guys wanna watch?" Twang asked over his shoulder as Jordie dragged him into the back.

The other guys looked at each other. As one, they shrugged and followed the two teens down the hallway.

Wrecks looked after them for a long moment. "Ought to install closed-circuit TV," he grumbled sourly. "Whose shop is this, anyway?"

He looked around, feeling smug. After consulting with Jordie, part of the money Jordie had given him had gone to buying up some gear that a leather store was selling off cheap, prior to filing for bankruptcy. Ratch had reassembled two racks, and other merchandise had been rearranged, to display them.

The door crashed open, and the bell that Jordie had just installed hit the back wall.

A young black man, looking younger than Jordie or Twang, dressed in ratty sneakers, tattered cap, cargo shorts, and hooded sweatshirt slid to a stop in front of Wrecks.

"You gotta help me, please!" he pleaded.

Wrecks pointed down the hall. "Take the hall off the right. Second door on the left, middle cabinet under the counter," he said quickly. The kid was already in motion.

Wrecks heard the door down the hall close a half-second before two pissed-off guys, in the colors of a local gang, barged into the shop.

"Where'd he go, man?" the smaller of the two demanded.

"Who?" Wrecks asked.

"Don't mess wit us, man," the bigger one warned. "You ain't got shit to do wit dis. Yet. Long's you act smart. You act dumb, you part of it."

"I'm not the one acting dumb," Wrecks drawled. Lulz, Bump, and Dare, alerted by the commotion and the two boys' loud voices, came out into the shop. "Leave my shop, kiddies, or leave it unconscious."

"You don't know what you messin wit, man," the shorter one said. He pulled a pistol out of his sagging pants. "I'll cap all you mo fo."

"No, you'd fire it once, and get the shit kicked out of you before you can fire it again," Wrecks corrected. "That's not a machine gun, moron."

"I wish that gun was as hot as you think it is," Dare said, a wicked grin on his face.

"Done," Wrecks grinned.

The gun heated up cherry-red before their eyes as Dare clenched his head between his hands.

"Monster..." Dare grated, as the shorter kid screamed and dropped the gun. "Monster, the bullets..."

The gun suddenly cooled, the metal warping and cracking from the change in temperature. Dare sighed with relief, as Lulz supported him around the shoulders.

"I'm okay, Lulz," Dare said. "I'd like it if that idiot would shut up though."

The kid was still screaming, holding his crispy hand at the wrist, but his mouth suddenly closed with a snap, leaving a thin whine coming from the kid's mouth. A trickle of blood ran from between the kid's lips; he'd bitten his own tongue.

"What da fuck did you guys do?" the other kid demanded, waving a switch-blade knife around.

"We're a secret government lab," Bump told him. "We fired a microwave laser at your friend's gun, heating it up." He paused for a moment. "I suggest you leave before the CIA responds to the alarm. You just might escape long enough to kill yourselves."

The kid stared at him. He dropped the switch-blade on the floor, grabbed his friend by the collar, and charged out the door.

Wrecks turned to the Monster. "I'd really appreciate it if the police caught them for something totally unrelated, before they get back to their friends," he said quietly. He smirked as he heard a police siren go off. "And just for future reference, how about if guns just don't work in here?"

The Monster seemed to suddenly blush dimly, more pink to the glow than usual.

"Find out if Ratch can figure out a way to get that scorch out of the wood," Wrecks told Bump, as Bump recovered the gun and the knife. "Or if we can melt those down for something useful."

"I don't know, the gun would be cool on an album cover," Bump shrugged, looking at it. "Couldn't you ask..." He twitched his head toward the Monster.

"Let's give the big guy a break," Wrecks said dryly. "If we can't figure something out, we'll see if he's willing. Lulz, Dare, watch the counter. Nah, fuck that."

He went to the door and locked it, flipping the sign and setting the plastic clock. He pulled the black curtains across the entire front of the store.

Wrecks opened the door of the room he did piercings in. "You can come out, they're gone."

The middle cabinet eased open, and the kid peeped out. He slid out and bounced up.

"Ah, thanks man," he said, sidling around Wrecks. "I'll just be going then..."

Lulz picked the kid up by the back of his sweatshirt and carried him down the hallway to the back.

Jordie had his cock up Twang's ass, while the two teens made out voraciously and Jordie jerked Twang's uncut cock.

"Jesus," the kid cried. "Get a fucking room, dudes."

Twang's hand came up, the middle finger raised.

"Which one is he doing this time?" Wrecks asked Ratch.

"He's back to 'Your Sister'," Ratch replied, watching the two guys intently. "He really seems to like that song."

Jordie turned his face to Ratch. "It's got a great beat," he smirked. He went back to trying to suck Twang's face inside out.

The guys had noticed that Jordie liked to fuck to a beat. They'd watch to determine what song he'd pick each time. He'd even done "Mary Had a Little Lamb" once, just to screw with them.

Twang's hand came out again and he snapped his fingers, pointing to Wrecks. Then he patted Jordie's heaving buns.

"That's mighty kind of you, Twang," Wrecks said graciously, kicking off his boots and jeans. He went around behind Jordie and proceeded to insert his dong inside Jordie.

Jordie came up for air, his face shining with sweat. "Ah, fuck, boss," he groaned.

"Yeah, yeah, the things I do to keep my employees happy," Wrecks said, grinding his hips into Jordie's ass. "Just shut up and take your benefits package."

"What do you want me to do with this guy, Wrecks?" Lulz asked, still holding the wriggling kid in mid-air.

"Just keep him here, Lulz," Wrecks panted. "I have to get this chore done first."

"Hey, Wrecks, does this dick make my ass look big?" Twang grunted.

"Dunno, can't see it right now," Wrecks growled. "Ask me later."

The rest of the guys watched, interested, as they continued to fuck. The black kid even quieted down and stopped struggling. His eyes widened with each thrust, and his shorts seemed to fill out in the front more as well.

Wrecks threw back his head and gave out a sound half-way between a growl and a bellow, driving himself deeper into Jordie. Jordie started bucking convulsively as well, and they watched Twang's eyes cross as Jordie fell flat against him.

Wrecks shakily withdrew slowly from Jordie, and collapsed into a sitting position, as Twang and Jordie's kissing became more tender. When Jordie finally slid off Twang, his front was slick with thick cum. He collapsed onto the floor, his back to the couch.

"Store closed, boss?" Jordie asked, his eyes shut.

"Yup," Wrecks panted.

"Good," Jordie nodded. He let himself list to the left, until he was laying on his side.

Twang looked down at him, and poked him in the shoulder. "You okay, bro?"

"I'm good bro," Jordie said into the thin carpet. "Just waiting for the earthquake to finish."

"Nah, you're way better than any earthquake, bro," Twang said, sounding very satisfied. He stretched out his legs and placed them on Wrecks's lap. "I feel good."

"I don't know what kind of shit you are all on, but I don't want none of it," the black kid said.

Jordie's eyes popped open and he rolled his head to look at the kid. He sat up suddenly.

"Chris?" Jordie demanded.

"You know this guy, Jordie?" Lulz asked.

"Yeah, he used to go to school with me," Jordie said slowly. "Dropped out our sophomore year. What the fuck kind of trouble are you in this time, Chris?"

"Never you mind, man," Chris said, crossing his arms stubbornly. The effect was humorous, considering his feet still hadn't touched the ground. "Ain't none of your business."

"Having a gun pointed at me, in my own shop, is my business," Wrecks told the kid. "And since Jordie works here too, it kind of affects him, wouldn't you say? Now, tell me what the hell is going on. Or Ratch will staple you to the wall, about seven feet up."

Ratch pulled out his staple gun from his tool belt, and checked the magazine. He squeezed the trigger a couple times experimentally, and then looked at Wrecks. "Whenever you like, Wrecks."

"That gang's trying to force all the homeless guys and chicks to join them," Chris said quietly. "And those that don't, got to pay protection. Their boss, he's pimping the girls out and setting the guys to robberies and shit. I got no part of that, and don't want it. I thought this neighborhood was safe, but I saw those guys coming out of the bar down the street. They're shaking down the merchants here too."

"And they came after you because..." Wrecks asked.

"Because I told their boss, Jazz, to go suck himself and all his boys," Chris replied. "Every one of them knows who I am, and they got orders to slice and dice me on sight."

"Actually sounds like a good idea," Wrecks said, and then slapped his hand over the engraved ring hanging from his neck. "Fuck..."

Shant looked at him, his face blank. "Big guy took that as permission, didn't he?"

Wrecks nodded.

"What the fuck you talking about?" Chris asked.

"Let's just say that Jazz is probably sucking all the dick he can get his hands on right about now," Shant said faintly. "Or he will be soon."

Chris shrugged. "Kinda wish-"

"No!" the guys all shouted.

"What the fuck with you cats?" Chris demanded.

"Just don't..." Ratch sighed, shuddering. "Don't wish for shit. It doesn't always work the way you think it does," he finished lamely.

"Why the hell are you homeless, Chris?" Jordie asked. "Why'd you drop out? The way you were going, you'd be on your way to the World Cup by now."

"Soccer?" Twang asked, perking up. "Really?"

"Why do you think, man?" Chris said angrily. "I'm homeless because I got thrown out by my old man. And I dropped out because I got tired of the coach feeling me up all the damn time. I saw the way he was watching us in the showers, I wasn't going to stick around. And soccer was all I had going for me. I'm not like you, Jordie. If sports didn't work out, you had art. All I had was soccer."

"Why the hell didn't you say anything?" Jordie asked.

"Think, man," Chris told him. "Who was he slipping dick to, on the side?"

Jordie looked startled, and then his face fell. "Fuck, Gordo was dating that woman detective. I forgot all about that."

"No way I'd come out clean," Chris sulked. "A kid like me?"

"You don't know that," Shant told him. "But I can see why you might think it."

"Set him down, Lulz," Wrecks sighed. "But keep an eye on him. Don't run off, kid, let's see if we can't find some way to fix this."

"Why do you fucking care," Chris asked, shaking himself as Lulz set him down on his feet.

"Because you haven't offended us enough yet to want to see you dead," Tower told him grimly. "Keep working at it, though."

"You fuckers crazy," Chris muttered, not meeting Tower's eyes.

"Seriously?" Dare asked, looking confused. "You never wanted anything except soccer? Never wanted to be anything else?"

"I was good at it," Chris said, staring at his feet.

"He was really good," Jordie nodded, looking depressed.

"Bro, we really need to work on your hair," Twang said, running his fingers through Jordie's crew-cut.

"I told you, my dad says after graduation," Jordie replied, smiling slightly. "If I show up to graduation like that, it could screw things up, you know? I don't want them backing out at the last minute, we haven't heard from Desert Cities College yet."

"Anybody on the team get scholarships?" Chris asked him quietly, still staring at his feet.

"Yeah," Jordie replied sourly. "Three exchange students."

Shant sat up. "Hey. That could work."

"You're nuts," Tower told him flatly.

"What else can we do?" Shant asked him. "Turn back time? Get him a job at Walmart? Marry him off to a rich Phillipino lady?"

"That was just the once," Tower said defensively. He sighed. "Can we do it?"

"I could probably teach him to speak with an accent," Shant said, chewing his lip-ring. "We could probably get him the right papers, we know hackers to give him the right transcripts." He winced. "Nah, that'd fall apart too easy."

"What the fuck?" Chris asked. "What's this shit?"

"If the colleges thought you were an exchange student, they might offer you a soccer scholarship," Wrecks told him. "Transcripts and all are pretty easy, schools have shitty security on their computers. But citizenship, language, accent, knowledge of the country... that's harder."

Shant poked Dare. "I dare you to wish for it."

Dare eyed him. "Okay."

The guys stared at him.

"He didn't say when," Dare pointed out, popping the top on a beer. "And that's going to be when Monster says it's okay."

"Point to the Dare-man," Twang laughed, giving a thumb's up. He stood up. "I gotta spend some time with my boy."

He sauntered over toward the other end of the room, where the equipment was scattered about. Wrecks grabbed him and spun him so his ass faced Wrecks, at eye level.

"Actually, Twang, yeah, that dick does make your ass look big," he said solemnly.

"Haw, you're just saying that," Twang laughed. He went over to the case holding his steel lap guitar and sat down on the floor. He quickly had the instrument out, tuned, in his lap and making happy sounds.

"Your boy one of those savant things?" Chris asked Jordie. "He don't seem too bright."

"He's very smart, actually," Jordie smirked. "And I hope someday you are so happy being yourself that you don't care what other people think, just like him."

"And I got to get naked, too, for that to happen?" Chris asked bitterly.

"If you want," Ratch shrugged. "Why is that a problem?"

"I got tired of pervs staring at me a long time ago," Chris shot back.

"That guy was staring at you because he had a problem," Bump pointed out. "It wasn't about you. Other guys might have stared at you too, for their reasons. If you want to take off your clothes, do it for yourself."

"We get it," Wrecks told Chris. "You don't like us. You don't like who we are, what we do, or anything about us. And you sure aren't going to treat us like human beings. Fine."

"Ah, lighten up Wrecks," Dare said, standing up. He went to the refrigerator in the corner and removed two six packs. "We all been through shit, and we all got scars. His haven't healed yet." He went over to Chris and held out a beer.

Chris stared up at him, and slowly reached for the beer. "Thanks," he said quietly.

"Any other ideas?" Wrecks asked. "Sounds like Chris belongs in soccer, for whatever reason."

"I only see the two ways, Wrecks," Jordie said sadly. "Can't be done without the Monster."

"And that can't be done without him," Wrecks sighed as he got to his feet. "Lulz, Bump, we need the mirrors."

Once they were out of the room, Shant sighed. "Dare's right. We all got scars." He looked around. "Even Twang and Lulz. Especially Lulz."

"Yeah, right," Chris muttered.

"Are you man enough to look at our scars?" Tower asked him. "I know you aren't man enough to look at your own, not honestly. But can you stop being a fucking coward long enough?"

"You going to let him talk to me like that?" Chris asked Jordie.

"He hasn't said anything untrue," Jordie replied. "And neither did Wrecks. Did he?"

"Jesus Christ, Twang, play something else!" Tower yelled. "Just not 'Taps'! Feel like I'm at a fuckin funeral."

"Sorry," Twang nodded cheerfully. He put the guitar away. "Just got to thinking about my dad." He strolled over to Jordie and sat down on the floor next to him. Jordie put his arm around Twang and squeezed, as the mirrors and the giant glass cock were brought in.

Shant arranged the mirrors, with Lulz and Bump's help, while Wrecks set the Monster in front of Chris.

"What the fuck?" Chris demanded, staring at the Monster.

"Don't pay attention to that," Dare told him. "Just look at the mirrors. You'll figure out what's going on soon enough." He gave Chris a sympathetic glance.

Chris looked at him, and then looked at the mirrors from the side of his eyes. His forehead creased and he turned to stare.

Lulz reached over and poked him. He nodded and sighed. "Hard as a rock," he told them.

"W-" Dare stopped and shook himself. "Too bad there's not a better way. Poor little shit, he has no idea what he's about to go through."

"Was it that bad, Dare?" Wrecks asked.

"The Monster has a sense of justice," Dare said, looking down. "And it has a way of making you remember. There were parts that scared the living shit out of me. And I can't forget them."

Wrecks looked uncomfortable. "Times like this I'd rather not have to deal with another breeder in my life. I have no idea why we're wasting time on this shit."

Twang spoke up softly. "My old counselor said that a lot of guys start out like that. Bitter about what happened, and afraid they'd turn out the same way. Afraid of being used and abused by other guys all over again."

Jordie squeezed him again and nodded. "Chris ain't straight, Wrecks. He might be afraid to be gay, but he ain't straight." He sighed. "If his mom were still alive, none of this would have happened."

"What happened to her?" Shant asked softly.

"She was walking down the street, beginning of sophomore year, and there was a drive-by," Jordie said sadly. "Completely by accident, they probably never even saw her. She was a real nice woman. Everybody was welcome in her home. She made me come to their house after school, because my dad was working. She never saw a single person she didn't love with her whole heart. But when she died... His dad wouldn't let anybody come to the house. He was bitter and mean. Gordo probably went after Chris because, well, Chris was vulnerable and just concentrated on soccer as a way to cope." He shrugged.

Wolf crept up to him, and draped himself over Twang and Jodie's laps. Jodie smiled at him and scratched his ears, while Twang slowly stroked Wolf's back.

"He's going to be upset when he comes out," Dare told them. "And from what we've seen..."

"Dare, stand over by the door, just in case," Wrecks said tiredly. "If anyone can, you can catch him."

Dare nodded and crossed over to lean against the wall next to the door.

---

Chris jerked away from the mirrors, his face wet and terrified. He lurched away, stumbling. By pure chance it was away from the doorway, and Twang barely had time to grab Chris as he collapsed.

Chris clung to Twang, and sobbed horribly.

"I can't, I just can't," he cried finally, as Twang hugged him tight.

"You don't have to, not alone, bro," Twang told him earnestly.

Chris stared at him, realizing for the first time what he was doing. He backed away hurriedly, and sat on the floor. He looked around at the sympathy on the faces of the other men, and looked away. Wolf crept up to him and laid his head on his lap.

"I guess-" Chris sighed. "Show me your scars. I'll show you mine."

The guys shared resigned looks.

"Imagine growing up, and having the wind talk to you, constantly," Wrecks told him. "The rocks, the ground. Hearing the rivers and lakes. First time I saw the ocean, I freaked. It talks a lot louder. I... wasn't good for much. I drifted around, got into trouble. And started looking for more. One night, I started a fight with a biker gang. I was hoping they'd kill me, because I'd proved I couldn't do it myself." He glared at Tower. "These two," he pointed to Shant and Tower, "jumped in to save my ass. Never seen them before, didn't know their names..."

"He came close to splitting my head open a few times that night," Tower nodded.

"Afterwards, they dragged me to Bump over there, got us all healed up," Wrecks continued. "And then this fucker," he jerked his chin at Tower, "made sure I couldn't do it again." He reached into his boot and pulled out a knife, flicking it open and handing it to Tower. He held out his hand.

Tower jabbed the knife into Wreck's arm, to the hilt, several times. Before their eyes, the blood dripped up, back to the wounds, and the wounds closed without a trace. Tower handed back the bloodless knife, and Wrecks put it away.

"All my physical scars are gone," Wrecks growled. "Tower wanted to make sure I stayed alive long enough to get over it all. It wasn't easy, but these jerks gave me a place to belong, while I learned to cope."

"It's hard living in foster homes, from your earliest memory," Shant said into the silence. "They get to be a blur after awhile. Some of them were bad, some were good. But they were never home. Never had a family. All I knew was that I wasn't good enough to have one. And on top of that..." He snorted. "When you can understand languages, you hear a lot of things you never want to hear. Listening to Korean girls talking about their periods, or old Russian ladies talking about their husbands..." He shuddered. "You just want to crawl into a hole and hide, out of embarrassment for the whole human race. You don't want to know people's secrets, their disgusting habits. And I was trying to figure out what was wrong with me... but a friend at school reached out, and helped me." He reached out and bumped fists with Tower.

Tower bent his head as he untied the bandanna that kept his coarse, dyed hair sticking more or less straight up. He pulled the bandanna away, and parted the hair to the side. Chris flinched at the ugly striated scar that stretched from his forehead to three-quarters of the way toward the back of his head. He tilted his head back and retied the bandanna, bunching the hair together to cover the scar.

"That was from my mom," Tower said, as he stood up and unbuckled his chaps. "She said she wanted to get the demons out." He dropped the chaps and turned his leg to show the ripped, puckered scars across his thigh. "That was from my step-mom. She figured a shotgun blast would do better." He turned to the side and raised his left arm, causing the scar along the edge of his pectoral muscle to pale to pure white. "That was from my dad. I was asleep when he stuck me with the butcher's knife." Tower sat back down and took a deep breath. "I looked for ways to protect myself. I looked in different places than most folks. I found books, old books, and started looking for ways to make people leave me alone. Then I saw another kid reading a book in an old language, figured he was looking for the same thing. We became friends, and more. Started looking for other answers. Started looking for ourselves. And we found it." He glanced at Shant fondly.

"And then I screwed it up, trying to prove I was a badass. It backfired, and I wound up with mood swings and a temper that I couldn't control. All the magic I had learned was useless, because I couldn't concentrate. Then this dipshit," he leveled a finger at Dare, "came along and gave it back, without even having a fucking clue. You ass wipes are stuck with me now."

"I was getting my daily beating from my dad, and I just wished that it would all go away," Ratch mused. "And the furnace blew up. When the police were driving away with me in the back, I was convinced I was being arrested, and I wanted to escape. The door popped open, and I ran. I kept running. I wound up living with this old dude, into crazy-ass music, and he kept me busy, learning how to play the organ and fixing all his old crap. He loved me, never touched me, not like that. But I couldn't fix the one thing that needed to be fixed. After his pacemaker gave out, I just kind of drifted around, until I started hearing music that reminded me of him."

"I got so tired of being laughed at, bullied..." Dare sighed. "Having anything I liked taken away or busted... I just... shut myself off. Locked myself in my room, where nobody could get to me. Afraid to talk to anyone, afraid to get close. Afraid to try, afraid to succeed. Until a gang of nutcases shoved a guitar in my hand and dared me to play."

"When my grandma died, the Army told me that my dad would be back to take care of me," Twang said. "That I wouldn't have to stay in the foster care home long. Then he died. Over there. I spent three years, with folks wanting to cut my hair or change my clothes, or take away my grandpa's steel guitar. I took off, and lived on the streets. Kind of moped around. Then this really hot guy picked me up in his arms and carried me off to the best night of sex in my life."

"I don't know how we're going to keep your pants on long enough for you to meet my dad," Jordie said, shaking his head.

Bump gave Wrecks a pleading look, and Wrecks nodded.

"Lulz, could you watch the shop for a bit?" Wrecks asked. "It's closed up, but I don't want those guys coming back."

"Sure Wrecks," Lulz nodded.

Bump watched his twin brother leave the room. "There's things I don't want to remind him of," he told Chris. "But I was too wrapped up in myself to see that he was hurting. He went looking for other ways to kill the pain. Finally, he dropped acid. Not sure how much. But the acid, cocaine, heroin, who knows what else, pretty much wiped his mind. My folks put him in a home, and I went off to college." He reached down to one of the bumps on his arm and gave it a pinch. The Teflon dome implant popped out through the skin. "And managed to get kicked out, several times. Between the guilt, and knowing things I shouldn't have about diseases and illnesses, about the way someone had died, I was hell-bent on punishing myself. I was at a concert, trying to drown out everything, when a kid OD'ed, right in front of me. I pulled him out of it, with the help of Shant. Shant's good at taking the edge off whatever is bothering you. Give you time to get some perspective. And he gave me the courage to admit who I was. Wrecks, Shant, and Tower helped me break my brother out of that home, and gave him something to be proud of. He's not stupid. He's not retarded. He's got a really good sense of humor, but he keeps it low-key most of the time. Believe me, he can really bust you up sometimes, but it's hard to stop once he gets going. Mostly, he just likes to see people smile."

Bump slid the Teflon dome back into his arm, the hole sealing up perfectly.

"Mom ran off before I can remember," Jordie said. "Dad had to work two jobs, to support us, and try to save money to send me to college. He always tried to be there, though. He encouraged my art, comforted me through the bullying... when he was home, anyway. I got into sports, hoping to... fit in, make the bullies leave me alone. He was okay with me being gay, and was proud of my progress, but he couldn't make the meets and tournaments. It hurt him a lot more than it did me, that he couldn't be there. But his guilt hurts too. I really wanted to get a scholarship, so he wouldn't have to work so hard, and then... that got taken away. Kid at school... he fucked me up. I couldn't think, couldn't wrestle, I couldn't even jack off. These guys helped me fix that. And managed..." He laughed. "Thanks to these guys, I can pursue art again. I'm going to go to college, and support myself, and learn some really cool stuff. And if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have met Twang."

"I would have found you sooner or later," Twang told him, grinning.

Wolf rose from in front of Chris and shook himself. "Shant. Mirror. Please."

"Ah, Wolf, no!" Wrecks cried.

"Yes Man." Wolf insisted. He turned and sat on his haunches, his back towards Chris. Shant moved one of the mirrors, and Wolf touched his nose to the floor, and Shant moved it to where he indicated.

Chris looked at Wolf, stunned, and then glanced at the mirror. He flinched back.

Reflected in the glass was Will, the young man Wolf had been. Chris saw the hands shoved deep in his pockets, the lost look in his face, the loneliness. He saw the old bruises on his arms and chest. He saw the dirt under the fingernails and the cast-off jeans and shoes.

Wolf turned to look at Chris over his shoulder, and the reflection looked behind him in fear. Wolf sat down facing Chris and the reflection turned and faded. Then Wolf stood up, and Chris gaped as the wolf became a shaggy-haired, hirsuit young man with a crooked grin on his face and mischievous eyes.

"I am Wolf now," the wolf man told Chris proudly. "I am free now. With Man."

"You chose this?" Chris asked, horrified. Wolf dropped back down to all fours, smoothly becoming the wolf again. He smiled at Chris, his tongue hanging out one side of his mouth. He turned in a flash, and ran around the room, jumping up on each of the guys, ending up with his front paws on Wrecks's shoulders. He licked at the tears on Wrecks's face, and spoke directly to Wrecks.

"No cry, No fear. No hurt. Just Man. Just love."

Wrecks buried his face in Wolf's fur, holding him tight. "Just love, wild Wolf."

"And fuck," Wolf amended.

The guys turned to look at Chris, as Bump moved the mirror out of the way.

"We've showed your ours," Dare pointed out.

Chris hung his head. "I could forget with soccer. I could pretend it didn't matter. I could pretend we weren't poor, that dad hadn't run out on us. I could pretend my mom never died, or my uncle never..." He squeezed his eyes shut. "That my uncle wasn't molesting me, since I was twelve. I was so afraid to tell my mom, I knew it would hurt her. And my dad... Before my mom died, he was never around. After, he just hated everybody. Then with the coach... he spoiled it all for me. I wasn't part of a team anymore. I wasn't one of the guys. I couldn't hide at practice anymore."

He looked at Dare. "I never wanted to be anything. Except... have friends, do something well, have people care. And then after... I just wanted it to all go away. I wanted to be nothing. I didn't want to hurt anymore, and I didn't want to hurt anyone. I didn't want to become... that."

"What did the Monster tell you, anyway?" Dare asked.

"It showed me what I would be like, if I stayed like I am," Chris said tersely. "And what I would be like, if it did what you guys were talking about. There wasn't much difference. Angry, alone, hating myself." He shrugged. "And it said no."

"No," Dare shook his head. "That's not all. The big guy also asked me to make a choice. He gave you a way out."

"Fuck you," Chris said, staring at his knees stubbornly.

Tower stood up and went over to squeeze between Dare and Shant, throwing his arms around both guys' shoulders. "Oh, so you want to be one of the guys, and part of a team," he said, sounding disgusted. "As long as you don't have to put yourself into it, as long as you can hold onto everything that makes you a person and keep it to yourself. You're fucking pathetic." He pulled Dare down into a headlock and tongued his ear.

"Tower, you're such an asshole," Dare said in admiration, and he fondled Tower's crotch.

"You expect me to live on the streets with everything hanging out?" Chris asked him. "Might as well walk around naked."

"You should give it a try sometime," Twang told him. "It feels real great."

"You won't even let in people who know you," Bump said crossly. "Maybe we're not as nasty and judgmental about you as you are about us."

"Hey, Wrecks, it's getting time," Lulz said from the door, sounding worried. "Jordie's dad is going to be here soon, for the graduation party, right?"

"Ah, shit, right," Wrecks nodded. He thought for a moment. "Let's get this place in shape, guys. Which means pants too," he glared at Twang. "Let's show Jordie's dad some respect, okay? Before we blow his mind to pieces."

"Yah, I really hope he likes me," Twang said, looking shy suddenly.

"Oh, he does," Jordie replied. "But he'd like to meet you too."

Lulz walked over to Bump, who had gotten up to change into a pair of black jeans instead of his leather shorts. He gave Bump a big hug. "I love you, bro," he said with feeling. He kissed Bump soundly.

"What was that for?" Bump asked, smiling at him and groping his ass.

"For worrying," Lulz told him. "I know it makes you feel better, so I let you."

Bump stared at him, and shook his head. "Never underestimate him," he told Chris.

"Aren't you guys brothers?" Chris asked, looking sick.

"Oh, it's okay," Lulz told him. "We're sterile, we can't get each other pregnant."

Twang broke up with that, and fell on his ass, his leather jeans still around his knees. He pounded the floor with his fist, braying loudly.

"We're having a graduation party for Jordie tonight," Wrecks told Chris, between snickers. "Hang out with us."

"I'll just be taking off," Chris told him, climbing to his feet.

"Monster, please don't let Chris out of sight of at least one of us, for the rest of the night," Jordie said, looking pissed. "You know, it won't kill you to just give it a try. Having friends or having a good time, you know?"

Wrecks smirked as the Monster lit up again.

"You're stuck with us kid," Wrecks told Chris. "You can help me carry the food back, I have to go get it."

"Rack's on your bike," Ratch told him, hooking a thumb at the back door.

"Thanks, bro," Wrecks said, adjusting the straps on his boot. He grabbed a shirt from behind the couch and put it on, letting it hang open and outside his jeans.

"You can't go out like that," Chris objected.

"If they don't want to see, they don't have to look," Wrecks told him. "And what I am wearing is totally legal."

"Wrecks looks fuckin fine, man," Twang said, finally catching his breath. "Why shouldn't he be proud of the way he looks? Why shouldn't he show it off?"

"Let's go, kid," Wrecks said firmly. Chris tried to scuttle out the hallway, but found himself unable to move past the doorway.

Wrecks walked over to him and grabbed his arm. As he passed through the back door, he snagged Jordie's helmet in addition to his own and spoke over his shoulder. "Make sure to get the tables out of the office."

"We'll take care of it," Tower yelled after him. "Sheesh, you'd think we never had a party before."

"Our parties tend to be whoever happens to be there, at the time it happens, with whatever happens to be around," Bump pointed out.

"You think I need a shirt?" Twang asked Shant anxiously, after Jordie and Lulz went to get the tables.

"Twang, relax," Shant told him. "You've heard him talk about his dad. His dad's not going to care about your shirt. He just cares that Jordie is with guys that treat him right. And if you treated him any more right, you'd both have road rash on the insides of your asses."

"More to it than that," Twang insisted, even as he grinned sheepishly.

"There's t-shirts and stuff in the front," Bump told him. "Grab one, Wrecks won't care. But you don't have to."

"I think I should," Twang said, slouching out of the room.