Chapter 1 - Introducing me.... And Shane
It was cold outside. The wind blew in my face and my cheeks were flushed a scarlet colour. Everywhere around me was white snow on the ground, and falling from the skies with great speed. The streets were empty and I could hear the faint sound of a strange bird crying somewhere. I tucked my scarf around my face tighter and kicked the fluffy snow in front of my feet with my big, leather boots. I looked up at the skies, letting the snow fall on my eyelashes and making it harder to see. I liked the cold. It made me feel alive. There were many other reasons why I preferred cold over heat, but I’m not going to share them with you all. It would take far too long. In fact, it would take far too long to describe myself, but I will try my best and give you a good impression.
My name is Declan Mayer, I am a seventeen year old male, I have brown hair and yellowish eyes and a pale skin. I am currently the youngest teacher at a secondary school in Littleville. It has this name because it is indeed, little. I am bisexual (I do not believe love has a gender) and live in a tiny apartment on the fourth floor of a crappy flat. My neighbour hates me and calls me a fag every time he sees me walking in the hallway. I don’t think he’s ever let a chance slip by him that he hasn’t called me a name. I once had a one night fling with a man of 25 years old. He had come out of my apartment and Bart (my neighbour) was just picking his newspaper from his post box he had made himself and demanded everybody put his mail in there. He’d spat at my date and kicked him. He’s a tiny old man, so you don’t really want to pick a fight with him. Odds are you’ll get blamed and be thrown out of the building. Yup, that’s good old Bart for you.
Let me tell you a bit about my first day at my new job at the school. I’m quite smart, although I don’t really look like a genius. I look like a little bookworm, yet I don’t wear glasses. I teach Poetry and most of the time I don’t get taken seriously. Some of my students are older than me. These are usually the ones that write ‘queer’ on my whiteboard. They all have a good laugh when I come into the classroom with a ‘kick me’ post taped to my back. No, I don’t know why I chose to do high school all over again. I’ve been asked this countless times. By my mother. I suppose the cash is good. Oh, and I’m not in high school myself. I finished when I was 16, and studied poetry for a year. The school must be pretty desperate seeing as they chose me for a teacher. But I am one, and I have a lot of fun with my students. They are about my age, some older, so I speak to them in a normal seventeen year old manner.
“You can understand this, can’t you? You guys aren’t a bunch of sad shits, are you?” I said last Friday. They all shook their heads, and some laughed. In general I think I am liked at this school.
“So, no more questions?” I said. A girl in the middle of the class raised her hand. I hadn’t gotten to know everybody’s names yet, so I just waved my arm at her.
“There’s a rumour going around the school that you’re gay. Is it true?” she laughed. The whole class started to giggle and speak amongst each other. I set their minds at ease.
“I am bisexual. But, more importantly, what’s it to you?” A boy who always sits in the back and stares out the window smiled at my remark. He had half long black hair and a bullring nose piercing. He had grey/white eyes and a very pale skin. He always wore black clothes and smelt faintly of smoke. I had never actually caught him smoking at school, but he must do, because he comes out of closets with his stoner friends and they all stink of weed. The boy always managed to keep his clothes non-smelling, so I couldn’t sniff his shirt and send him off to the principal’s office. The bell rang for break and everybody got up and stormed out of the classroom to hang with their friends and eat their goodies. The boy was called by one of his stoner pals.
“Hey, Shane. Coming to closet nine?”He called. Then he noticed I was there.
“Oops” he muttered. The boy, whose name appeared to be Shane, nodded at me and went to join his buddies. Today’s the day, I thought to myself. I’m going to make him go to detention. Where’s closet nine?
Twenty minutes later I found closet nine. I could already smell the weed wafting out from underneath the door. I opened it and half the school fell out.
“Right, you’re all getting detention” I announced. The boys and girls ran out past me. I yelled after them.
“Hey, stop!” It was too late. The hallway was empty.
“Don’t feel bad” a voice said from inside.
“Not one single teacher has been able to get those fools.” It was Shane. I stepped inside the small space and closed the door behind me.
“I caught you” I pointed out. Shane raised his eyebrows with a smile.
“Indeed, you did.”
“So, what do I do now? Do I nail you, or do I let you leave with the rest of them?”
“How should I know?” Shane said, still smiling.
“I’m not a goody two-shoes. I think I’m even younger than you. You could easily beat me up.” Shane got up from the box he was sitting on and came to stand very close to me (there wasn’t really much space to stand anywhere else).
“Now why would I want to do that to such a cute face?” he grinned. My eyes widened. He placed his hands on my face and inspected me from all sides. Then he leaned close to my face, reached out his arm and locked the door behind me. I froze. Shane licked past his lips.
“D-don’t” I stammered, as Shane licked past my neck and up to my ear, nibbling softly on my lobe. It tickled and I could feel my face getting red.
“This isn’t funny” I said. Shane moved my body away from the door, so I couldn’t unlock it and leave.
“Cute, your little cries for help” he said, kissing my jaw line. His fingers crept underneath my shirt and stroked past my sides. I gave Shane a push, but he wouldn’t move. He seemed strong and I was weak. Shane moved his leg between mine, rubbing my crotch. I gasped and Shane slipped a tongue into my mouth. He tasted of weed. I gave him another shove and he backed away. He licked his lips again.
“Asshole” I muttered, sinking to the floor. He smiled.
“You’re sweet” He said.
“I like you. See you around, Mr. Mayer.”