Disclaimer: If you aren't legally supposed to be reading this, then don't, but I'm not gonna stop you. If you feel uncomfortable reading works about gay, bi, or whatever teens, then why are you reading this? If ever you want to use any of this story, ask me. The answer should be yes.
-Countquestions
Stupid Jerk: Fiesta Chaotic
Three Japanese girls were running around inside of a rundown building, and for some reason unbeknownst to me, I followed them. We all talked in Japanese, and I understood them even though I don't know any Japanese beyond arigatou -- thanks -- and that, I learned from Deirdre. There was a dumbwaiter that two of the girls were trapped in and suddenly, I could see up into its shaft from the bottom. Fire! There was a fire climbing up the ropes on its pulley. I shouted to them, "Kaji desu yo!" (There's a fire!) Suddenly, I was back in the room that we were in before seeing the dumbwaiter's shaft. The other girl just stood there panicked, shouting that she was afraid and asking how were we to get them out of the dumbwaiter. I started to run out of the room, but she grabbed me by the arm. I turned to her asking firmly and calmly to wait. She did.
I ran down old wooden stairs. Each one grew precariously worse and more dilapidated. When I got to the last step, I was in a huge auditorium. There were guys there, all of them standing in straight lines next to their desks. School desks. They and they guys were both in a phalanx pattern. Finally, all the guys sat as one unit. Not one person was out of line at all, and they made no sound as they sat. I just stood there in awe until I saw him.
His name was Darryl, but he wasn't my Darryl. He was a shorter guy who was a mix between Tom and Darryl. It was then that I realized within the dream that I was dreaming. This Darryl was biracial. He was Tom's height with Darryl's build, and his face was a new one to me. He looked up at me and signaled for me to sit. Suddenly the desk next to his was empty.
"Mr. Selva!!!" fog horned a very baritone and gruff voice. I turned around to see my principal, Mr. McBride, a rotund angry man who always seemed to be sweating. Even when it was cold. This Mr. McBride, however, was wearing some type of military uniform as were I, Darryl, and the rest of the guys in this "class". I immediately sat down. Class went on about something or other. I don't remember exactly what had been taught. Then, McBride released us for free time. He said that it was our last time to get prepared. He growled something at me as we silently and orderly filed out of the classroom. He then growled something else unintelligible and angry, upon which I called him, "Cabron." That stupid, growling bastard. Darryl, who marched in front of me and the guy behind me both laughed. We all went out of the room and were back in the rundown building that housed the earlier episode with me and the three Japanese girls although I had now forgotten them.
I grabbed Darryl by the hand and pulled him towards the back of the room which was now huge. We talked about everything and nothing, most of our conversation just felt like two old friends reminiscing. Though, throughout the conversation I could feel that the two of us were more than friends. At least from my perspective that's how it was. We had been talking privately for a long time in Spanglish. Then we heard McBride's voice scratching out sonorously, "The bus leaves in ten minutes. Those of you leaving DON'T BE LATE!!!"
I looked down at Darryl, looking into his gray-green eyes. He smiled at me and grabbed me around the waist. At first I was surprised, but then it felt like I belonged in this strong embrace. He reached up to my neck guiding my face down to his drawing me into a kiss. Three quick pecks followed by a nice wet French kiss. He broke the kiss quickly even though I wanted to continue -- my head lowered searching for his face again. He pushed me back and after blinking we stood next to the doors that led out of the building where a non-descript bus waited. As we stood there looking at each other, random guys from our class left, each of them saying goodbyes to their friends or high-fiving each other when they saw that they both would be leaving. "FIVE MINUTES, MEN!" McBride's voice loudly scraped breaking everyone's moment but only for a second.
I reached into my pocket, pulling out a cell phone. I reached over to Darryl pulling him towards me by his waistband and hooked my phone into it. He had his attached to his belt strap and I took it from him.
"¿Por que hacias tu?" he asked me why I switched our phones.
"Para que nosotros tengamos algo del cada otro." I answered. I wanted both of us to have something of each others. He looked confused for a moment. "ONE MINUTE!!!" He grabbed me and attacked my face with a fierce kiss, said goodbye and ran out the doors and up onto the bus. He waved out of the window to me and the bus drove away.
I stood there for a few moments, not knowing what to say or how to react. A wall of realization hit me. He was gone, and wherever he was going, there was a high chance that he wouldn't return. My chest exploded with pain as my vision became cloudy. A cry flew out from my throat starting from my gut as my eyes spilled with a waterfall of tears. The guys, who were in the room with me, looked in my direction and started to come towards me. My body lurched with sobs as I sank to the floor in a crying heap. One boy looked down at me. He had fiery red hair and freckled skin. "Paco?" he called, "Paco, wake up!"
I opened my eyes and there was Deirdre on the couch, her head resting on my shoulder with my arm draped over her. With anyone else this would have been quite the intimate embrace. With her, it was just comforting, especially after such a strong dream. She wiggled out of my arm and stood up stretching. My eyes fell to her stomach where her shirt had lifted, then to her chest. She punched my shoulder, "You are such a guy!" She shook her head at me as I smiled and stood up and stretched, too. She looked at me and then towards my crotch, "But I know, I didn't cause all that." I looked down at my crotch which stuck out at an obvious angle. I had a furious erection, and all Deirdre did was gawk at it.
She laughed seductively, "I would claim that reaction, but it started while you still slept." She doubled over in laughter. "Who were you dreaming about?"
I looked away, remembering the dream and luckily Dad walked in the door. "¿Que es tan comico?" asking us what was so funny, he walked into the family room and hugged me and Deirdre, "¿Que ando locos?"
"Hey, Alex," Deirdre returned. She usually called him by the English form of his name. "How was work?"
"iAh! iEra tan cansandose!" he exclaimed at how tiring work was, almost his daily response; so, Deirdre understood what he meant. He continued, "Senor Diabuono gave Luke y yo this new assignment. He wants newer pieces for la galeria. Es Bueno cos he's been on this `traditional' painting kick." He paused and turned to me looking me in the eye. I knew that look. That was his I'm-really-sorry-but-I've-gotta-travel-somewhere look.
I sighed, "Cocho, you can't be serious! You just got back last week!" I glared at him. He and his best friend, Luke James, were assistants to the head curator at The Graysine Art Gallery. All that meant was that he and Luke were sent wherever Mr. Diabuono wanted them to go to find new pieces for the gallery. This meant that he traveled, and during the summer and early fall, his traveling was more frequent. Most of this summer had been spent with Tio Adimar, and twice I went with him to Peru to see my Abuela -- grandmother -- and Abuelito -- grandfather -- from his side of the family. He had only been home for just a week and already was getting ready to leave again. It was annoying.
He looked at me uneasily, "Paco, lo siento mucho --" I was about to interrupt him, but he firmly continued, "Pero, tu sabes que esto es mi trabajo y lo que trae consigo. Por favor, no seas enojado conmigo. No seria justo si eras. Pero, yo no estare alli muy largo y traere regalos para ti cuando vuelvo, okay. ¿Eso esta bien?"
I shifted around on my feet and then heard Deirdre whisper, "Tom, what's going on?" I looked over at them and hadn't even noticed that he and Darryl had come in. Darryl and Deirdre both have their own keys. My house was always our hangout place. Tom looked at me and Dad uneasily, not knowing if he should answer her.
"It's fine," I said simply and went back to glaring at Dad as Tom translated in a hushed voice.
("I'm very sorry, Paco, but you know that this is my job and what that entails. Please don't be angry with me. It wouldn't be fair if you were, but I won't be there long and I'll bring you gifts when I get back. Is that fine?")
"¿Por que tengo que trocar yo contigo? Todas las veces, yo tengo que trocar. Pero como siempre, tu ganas." I gave into Dad reluctantly and laughed as Tom continued to translate.
"Why do I have to barter with you? It's like we have to haggle every time. But as always you win," he finished up for Darryl and Deirdre.
All the tension immediately left the room, and we all laughed noticing it. "It's so good to finally know what you two are talking about," Deirdre sighed.
"Hey, I got alotuvit," Darryl defended himself and continued, "You two ready to go?"
Deirdre looked at her watch, "I'm gonna fucking shoot you, Paco! It's already eight o'clock. I ain't done nothin' to my hair. And look at what I'm wearing!" She started to leave.
"You look fine," Darryl assured her.
"Fine? Fine isn't good enough, Darryl. When you look at me, I wanna hear you say, `Damn! You look fine! Not just fine. I'll see y'all there!" she waved as she scurried out of the door.
"Ay, women!" Dad through his hands up and went to the kitchen. "¿Donde esta la jarana y de quien es?" He called out to us asking whose and where the party was.
"Sam's," I answered.
He peeked his head around the doorframe, "Don't do anything I wouldn't--"
"And that leaves us with options, Alex?" Darryl asked incredulously.
"Callate, lenteja," Dad called him a fool.
"Alex, I'm hurt," Darryl feigned sadness.
"Please," Tom rolled his eyes.
I made my way towards the door, "Vayanos. We don't have to take a long time like, Deirdre."
We all said bye to Dad and walked outside. Even as we just crossed our large street, music could be heard pulsing from Sam's backyard.
Two hours later the party was in full flow. People were talking, joking, dancing, and acting stupid. Just having a damned good time. There was alcohol. Lot's of it, and not just nasty ass beer. You have to love parents like Sam's -- the hazy god-like, floating people who show up once in a while to check on their son and his younger siblings when the nanny goes away. Even though, Sam's house is only across the street from us, his side is the mas rico, the "richer" side of the street. My Dad's a curator's assistant. We used to live in the city before we moved here to West Bumblefuck -- as I call it -- but he saw some ad for this job and was like, "Mijo, creo que eso es tan perfecto. It'll launch me. Launch!" He was telling me that the job was just perfect for advancing his career. (He's the more "professional" artsy parent. My letter-sending, invisible mother, I've figured for the "free spirit" type. He tells me I favor her in personality.)
Anywho, the houses on Sam's side of the street are all large and have a lot more land than my side. Our house isn't small, but it's not Sam's. Here in Bumblefuck, like other Bumblefucks in the U.S. property is cheap, even the really good kind. The party was basically in Sam's backyard, on his deck and the make-outers were in the house. Though some had decided to trickle outside.
At that moment me, Deirdre, and a sophomore named Sandra were dancing together. We were sandwiching to Goodies. Deirdre was behind me and Sandra was in front. She wasn't a bad dancer, but she just couldn't keep up with us. I should say she couldn't keep up with Deirdre because she was in control of every hip winding, booty shaking, or body dipping we did. A group of people had begun to circle around us as we continued our dancing growing more and more risque. By then the song was ending, but Wait came on next. Somehow Deirdre and I switched places and Sandra was replaced with Tom. We ground together all three of us. Deirdre and I clasped our hands together and slowly pin wheeled them in time with our gyrations. Tom was pressed so hard against her that his hands grabbed my hips and ass, but I didn't care because we were having so much fun, and dammit, I was hard as a rock. Noticing this, Deirdre wiggled more which must have had the same effect on Tom for his hands glued themselves to my ass. We moved with each other just feeling the music and each other. Sweat poured down my brow, and our clothes decided to adhere us to one another. I lay my head on Deirdre's shoulder and Tom's hair, even though pulled back, tickled my face. We all slowed down as the song ended, completely winded and out of breath. Our on lookers blew up in a flurry of applause and catcalls. I bashfully ran out of the circle.
"Paco, nice show, bud!" called George. She was a senior, and the last person you'd think to be a cheerleader. She was tall, darkly brunette, and very tomboyish -- that is until she broke out into cheerleader mode. Right now she just wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a baseball cap backwards. She came over to me and slapped my ass in a very football-congratulations way. "Y'all might as well've fucked for all of us," she laughed as I fished around a cooler for a Red Bull.
"Hey," I laughed, "estaba bailando. I was just dancin'."
She shook her head, "Always playin' the modesty card, P. When you gonna give that up?"
"When you come to a party or school dance in a dress," I retorted guzzling down the Red Bull to pick up another.
She pulled out a flask from her back pocket and held it out to me, "Vodka?"
"Si," I answered, drinking a little of the new Red Bull. I poured some of the vodka in the can and swirled its contents together. "Gracias," I thanked her handing the flask back.
"Don't mention it, mandado," she smiled.
"How you know that word?" I asked, shocked.
"Hey, I check up on my Peruvian slang. I know a slut when I see one," she joked.
"Slut?" I asked with mock anger.
"Man-whore better?" she chuckled.
"Just because the ladies--" I began.
"Oh, so now we're all confident," she rolled her eyes and took a sip from her flask.
"iCallate! You seen Darryl?"
"Yeah, I think he's in the house."
"The house?" I asked both of us knowing what went on there.
"Yeah," she nodded, taking my question in stride, "Thinking your best bud wouldn't get lucky, being that hot?"
"No...um...no. Nothing. I'll catch ya later," I said quickly, making my way towards the house.
"Yeah, P. Maybe next time we can dance like that but switch the male-female roles, huh?" she joked and went her own way.
I walked up the stained wooden stairs to the upper part of the deck. It was littered with people making out or sitting together talking quietly. It amazed me how people could think of this as private with all the noise from the party. I didn't see Darryl in any of those couplings. I would've been surprised as hell if I did. The windowed doors to the upper deck had been opened all the way, and I made my way into the house. There were a lesser number of make-outers here, but they seemed more sexually charged than those outside. I don't know how they were that comfortable in public. Damned exhibitionists, I laughed to myself. iQue arrecho! I suddenly had to pee; so, I temporarily gave up my search for Darryl to go the bathroom. Well, finally the alcohol decided to catch up with me as I became slightly tipsy, but I was glad I wasn't completely lit. I didn't plan on drinking that much.
I came to the door that I remembered was the bathroom. I could see that the light was on in there and thought someone must be in there; so I waited. After standing there for a short time, no one left the bathroom; so I knocked lightly on the door. There was no answer. I put my ear against the door, feeling the hallway slightly lean with me as I did so. I didn't hear anything and figured that no one was in there. I opened the door still slightly dizzy and at first what went on didn't register with me.
"Sam?" I asked confusedly.
"I know what you saw, Paco, and it's not what you think," he said quickly, pulling his polo shirt back on.
Pulling his shirt on?
"Not what he thinks?" came another voice. You wouldn't know it immediately, but it covered its pain with light anger. I looked in its direction but by then my vision had grown fuzzy and the room decided to toss itself to the right without letting me know. I heard two zippers zip up before my name was called out.
"Paco?!?"
I tried to respond but only felt my head connected with something really hard. "Francisco......" Everything faded black.
That's where Fiesta Chaotic ends. I thank all of your for WONDERFUL support. If you have any questions, comments, suggestions, or just wanna be like "What it look like?" feel free to email me at getitright10@yahoo.com. El proximo capitulo se anunciara pronto. The next chapter is coming soon. -- K (Countquestions)