Redefining Normal By Owen Wright
Hi guys, this is the first chapter in what I hope will be a very long series following the journey of Kasey, the narrator, as he learns to redefine the concepts that held his free will prisoner before his brother came around.
The disclaimer: There will be sex in this series, and although it will most likely be sparse, those 18 and younger, as well as those who shouldn't be reading this for whatever reason, please stay away for your own good. The characters are purely fictional, any relation to actual people/stories is absolute bull shit. I'm serious.
Author's note:
Please, enjoy the series, and if you want to contact me, please do so at superwrighter13@gmail.com. Sorry to those who emailed the wrong address per the incorrectemail I left last chapter (which was missing the 13), and thanks to KJ for pointing that out to me. I'd love to hear your comments, and although I'd rather not hear any harsh criticisms, I'd be more than happy to accept constructive ones.
Thanks to all who emailed me! I really want to take the time to respond to you all but that means less time writing and getting chapters out. I hope you know I appreciate all of your comments, and it is because I received so many that I was motivated to push myself through writing this chapter. So all of you remember, the more emails, the faster the chapters are written! Thanks again and enjoy Chapter 2!
Chapter 2-More Than a Lazy Sunday
We spent most of Sunday getting Keith adjusted to his new home. Dad made sure that everything was prepared so that he could attend school on Monday with me; evidently there was a large amount of paperwork that needed to be filled out so that Keith could transfer everything over in the middle of the school year. I think he was worried, I mean, there were a lot of changes going on in his life, and he didn't ask for any of them. At the same time, though, he never really seemed too bothered by anything; he could always just go with the flow. I found that his habit of agreeing wasn't just his way of being polite; he honestly was fine just going along with everyone else.
For the most part, it was a relaxed morning. Keith and I came down to breakfast in our pajamas, me in my boxers and soft sleep shirt, Keith in his flannel pants and tank top. Mom was drinking her usual morning coffee as Dad brought the food out the table. Evidently, spring was slowly blooming, as Mom dressed the table in a bright green tablecloth and placed some newly bloomed daffodils in the center vase. We both took seats at opposite ends of the square table, as Mom and Dad greeted us both.
"So, Keith," Dad asked conversationally as he reached for some bacon, "how did you sleep?"
"Pretty good," Keith smiled at me as he reached for some cantaloupe that was in one of Mom's funky serving platters. This one was in the shape of a leaf and had pictures of bugs on it.
"What were you boys thinking about doing today?" Mom scooped some eggs onto her plate, her brown hair falling into her face. She was pretty, and I wasn't afraid to admit it. Although some of my friends gave me trouble about it, I knew that she was young and I really liked that about her. Both of my parents always understood the lives of teenagers remarkably well (Keith's coming out was a good example) and it made life a lot easier around the house.
"I'm not too sure yet, Mom," I said between bites, "I mean, it's not like there's a whole lot of stuff to do around here."
"Well, whatever you decide, just make sure you don't forget about your chores."
Dad was obsessed with making sure I maintained a positive work ethic, so although we could very easily hire a weekly maid service or something of that sort, he insisted that I keep up with my chores. As Keith was now considered a "part of the family," I was sure Dad would soon be assigning him chores as well. In fact, as soon as I thought it, it happened, although it wasn't quite as I expected.
"What would my chores be? I'd love to help out around the house," Keith chipped in, if I didn't know better, I'd think he was trying to be the 'favorite son,' but I knew that he genuinely wanted to be a part of the family.
"Well," Dad looked over at Mom, who was smiling, "Kasey has to take care of the lawn every Sunday and the dishes every night, so why don't you take care of the pool on Sundays and do the dishes every other night?"
"Sounds perfect to me," Keith looked satisfied to be included and turned back to his breakfast.
"Sounds even better to me because that means I only have to do half the dishes I normally do," I said pointedly, aiming my fork and a grin in Dad's direction.
After breakfast, we decided that once we finished the chores, I would take Keith out around the town and show him the sights of Portland. Mom and Dad were probably going to just cruise in their alone time, and maybe go grocery shopping, although Dad insisted that going grocery shopping two days in a row was borderline illegal.
I headed out to the lawn to do my weekly routine. We had a beautiful garden, and although most of it was my responsibility, Mom chose what we planted and helped me weed when she had time. I mowed the grass part of our lawn last week, so I basically just needed to water everything before it reached midday and the sun would dry up the water. Yes, believe it or not, in our part of town we actually get to see the sun and we actually have a lawn. It's one of the perks of living in the suburbs.
I finished pretty quickly. I mean, it was a matter of simply sprinkling some water over the lawn and pulling out some roots that surfaced between the rows of flowers before I was finished. About the same time I was winding up the hose again, Keith appeared from around back where the pool was with the pool net; evidently he'd been busy scooping out all the rubbish from the pool. We headed to the compost heap (yes, Oregon is going green) and dumped the dead leaves from the pool. I threw the weeds in there too, for good measure.
After brushing our teeth and changing, we headed down to the living room to check in with the parents before we left. Mom was getting out the vacuum while Dad ironed his work clothes, both listening to some 90s music station currently playing some Whitney Houston song.
"You boys about to head out?" Dad put his iron down, and by down I mean with the base side facing forward. I'm not really sure what that would be called, but in any case by down I do not mean burning a hole through his shirt.
"Yup, Kasey's excited to show me around Portland, aren't you Kase?"
"Thrilled," I deadpanned, but I couldn't hold it for long before I broke out into a small grin. Keith just made me too happy sometimes.
"Well I'll tell you what, Keith, I've been doing some thinking, and you have your license right?"
"Yeah, I'm 17 now so I've had it about a year."
I shot Keith a jealous look because at 15, all I had was my learner's permit. He just laughed, bearing that grin again that brought out the stark angles of his cheeks and chin against his spiky brown hair.
"Since you're part of the family now, and we have an extra truck in the garage that neither Mom nor I use, I figure the Toyota Tacoma is now officially yours. I pretty much just use the 4Runner now and Mom uses her Scion so we might as well give the car to someone who will actually use it," he tossed the keys over to Keith, who stared at them like they fell from heaven or something.
"Can you drive standard?" I asked, remembering that Dad's truck wasn't automatic like his 4Runner, after recalling a terrible lesson in using the stick shift that left me with whiplash for a week.
"Haven't ever driven anything but," Keith grinned, "and thanks, so much?Dad."
There was a moment that just felt like a sunflower in the room right when he said that. Okay, I know that sounds pretty strange, but there was just this light beauty that seemed to radiate through and outwards, like the bright yellow petals from its brown base. That is, until Mom had to ruin it by being Mom.
"But," she started, with a warning tone, not being bossy, just making sure we knew she was serious, "we have some ground rules. One, you both have a midnight curfew that may be extended on weekends on a case-to-case basis. Two, don't crash. Three, make sure you call if you plan to stay out. And have fun, boys," she smiled.
Keith was grinning from cheek to cheek all the way out of the house, through when I showed him how to work the garage door, and even when he started the truck and the engine roared to life.
Dad's-or should I say Keith's-Tacoma was jet black, a 2006 make with standard shifting in prime condition. The windows were tinted, and the truck was sparkling clean; Dad liked cars, and he especially liked clean ones.
Keith pulled out of the driveway with ease, fluidly shifting gears while steering forward onto the road past our yard. I decided to take him into Portland to get a taste of the city, as well as get him more in touch with this new home. My high school was on the way though, so I had him drive past there first. I live in Southwest Hillside, right next to Arlington Heights, so the view before we got the main streets was pretty nice.
I had to tell him to keep his eyes on the road often, as his vision kept wandering to focus on the many tall conifers of Oregon. It was almost as if he never saw so many trees before in his life.
"I haven't," he suddenly stated.
"Haven't what?"
"Seen such beautiful forests, well at least now anywhere near where I lived anyway. I was amazed when I came in on the taxi, and it still looks beautiful."
"Where are you from anyway?"
"Weren't you paying attention when I told your dad?"
"Our dad."
"Right, our Dad," he reached out his right hand to ruffle my hair, as if it wasn't messy enough blown by the current from the open window, "I said I came from Seattle, but whereas you're from Portland's suburbs, I lived right in the city, in a small little apartment. I'm used to falling asleep to the sound of cars, not squirrels and birds."
"That would explain a lot of the tossing and turning last night," I quipped, flashing him my best smile.
"From what I remember, you were out like a light, so you wouldn't have any idea even if I was," he stuck his tongue out at me and I just laughed.
We rode in silence for a little while after that. It wasn't an awkward silence or anything; it was just a nice, comfortable peace where we could enjoy each other's company.
I glanced in the mirror, to see if, indeed, my hair was messy. It was tousled, as usual, the same brown it normally was, but a little bit lighter where the sun was hitting it through the open window. The glare really lightened my eyes as well, which were picking up every bit of light thrown at them so that they looked like emeralds were sparkling in them or something.
I looked over at Keith, and wasn't sure if I stopped looking in the mirror. His hair was short, and spiked up, but it was the exact same color as mine. His eyes, now focused on the road ahead, were the same startling emerald color. Insofar as his nose, it was a bit more pronounced where mine was more of a button, and his lips were definitely more full than mine. I kept noticing differences, like his pronounced Adam's apple and strong chin, until he caught me.
"Why are you staring at me?" he asked jokingly.
"Nothing. Just wondering why you stole all of my looks."
"We do look the same, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess. I mean we have the same hair and eyes that Dad does."
"Agreed. But for some reason," he looked over at me with a goofy grin, "one of us came out beautiful and the other one?.eh, not so much."
He shrugged his shoulders, clearly indicating me with his eyebrows, and laughed.
"Well I'm sorry we can't all be Abercrombie models," I shot back, feigning hurt.
"Hey, come on, you know I was just joking," he rubbed my shoulders, "I think you're really cute. And I mean that in a completely 'you're a cute little brother' not you're cute I'm interested kind of way."
"Yeah, I get it," I responded, glad that he didn't see me that way, because I definitely thought of him strictly as a brother, "and since we're on the subject, you're not so bad yourself."
"Why, thank you. And speaking of, do you have any gyms where I can work out around here?"
"Umm, our house? Dad bought a Bowflex machine last year, but I don't know if I took you to that part of the house yet."
"Aah, that's good. We need to hit the weights soon, especially you, scrawny boy."
"Agreed. Coach says gaining some muscle will really help me on the turf this year."
"I'd be more than happy to help you out with that," he looked over at me and I knew that I could seriously use his help. If he could help me build biceps like his round ones, which at the moment were threatening to burst from his pale blue t-shirt, I'd be set.
Eventually we reached Lincoln High School, the academic shithole we would both have to be in attendance at tomorrow. Keith said it looked like a really nice school, but I reminded him that he hadn't seen the inside or met the people there yet. He insisted that I was just around it too much, and that I needed to try and take an outside perspective. So I stood for a good five minutes there in the parking lot, shoulder to shoulder with Mr. Optimism and allowed my mind to open.
The red brick had a sense of antiquity to it, giving the building a rustic feel, and trimmed by its once white designs, the school definitely radiated homeliness. Our courtyard, where we were allowed to eat lunch in the outdoors and enjoy the few days of sun we were so rarely blessed with this season, was beginning to stir in the February morning. The cherry blossom trees had a pink glow to them, as their buds primed themselves for the spring season. Daffodils that lined the walkways were closed at the time, but I knew that when they opened, their petals would be splendidly yellow.
Keith. He was so weird sometimes, and yet, I couldn't escape the feeling that he was never wrong. His perspective was just so clear, made accurate by his many experiences, tweaked to a fine-tuned glass through which he was allowing me to see the world. After inhaling deeply, he turned back to the car and I followed in silence, thinking that maybe tomorrow wouldn't be such a bad day to go to school tomorrow. As the sun peeked out between the normal gray clouds that dotted the sky, we departed temporarily from one of the places I least liked to be.
We hadn't gotten a mile away from the school when my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text message from Zeo, my best friend since the third grade, and whom I totally neglected this weekend. It was understandable given the circumstances but I'm pretty sure he would be worried.
Zeo: Hey where have you been, man?
My friends and I all texted in proper English after our friend, Mikey, convinced us that texting in abbreviations would seriously stunt our usage of vocabulary and make us dumb in general. I agreed for the most part and went along with it, mainly because I had an iPhone, so it didn't really matter that I had to key in a few extra strokes to sound intelligent and avoid Mikey's lectures.
Me: Hey Z, sorry this weekend has been really crazy.
Zeo: What do you mean?
I looked over at Keith, who was mouthing the words to "Photographs and Memories" by Jason Reeves as it spilled out of the radio.
Me: It's definitely not something I can explain in a text message. What are you doing right now?
Zeo: Nothing. I'm bored out of my mind because my best friend didn't want to hang out with me this weekend.
Me: lol. Stop being a drama queen and go to Pizza Schmizza for lunch, we'll meet you there.
Zeo: Not that I mind hitting up some Schmizza, but what's the occasion?
Me: There's someone I want you to meet.
Zeo: It better be Mandy Moore or someone equally hot for all of this mystery.
Me: Keep dreaming, lover boy. Let me know when you get there.
Zeo: Fine. I was getting hungry anyway. See you there.
"So this is your brother," Zeo sat across the table from Keith and I, dumbfounded. His Hawaiian pizza lay flat on the plate in front of him, untouched.
I just finished explaining to him exactly what I was doing this weekend. He started asking questions as soon as we met him there, but I told him he had to wait until we all had our pizza and was sitting down. Since I started explaining who Keith was and how he ended up at our house, Zeo hadn't said a single a word, nor did his face ever lose its deer-in-the-headlights type of astonishment.
See, Zeo and I have been best friends since the third grade. That year, I had just moved from California, I didn't know anyone at my new elementary school, and no one was very friendly towards me. During class I was fine, because the teacher would just talk and we wouldn't really have to talk to anyone else, it was more during recesses that I had trouble. All of the kids who already knew each other would play together and all I could do was sit by myself beneath one of the trees in the field and wait for class to start again.
I wasn't exactly extroverted back then, and I'm still not today, so it's not like I was about to approach any of the kids to ask to play. Luckily for me, I met Zeo that day.
I was doing the usual, just sitting under my tree, looking out at the schoolyard, jealous of all the other kids who had their friends established already, envying their contentedness. Suddenly, a boy stood in front of me, pulling me from my thoughts. He had bright blue eyes and sandy blonde hair, kind of a goofy grin (he was missing his front tooth) and held a soccer ball under his right arm.
He was the first kid to invite me to play soccer with all of the other students, and was even willing to put me on his team. I had fun for the first time that day, playing soccer with a bunch of the boys who eventually formed my current group of friends. Later in the week, Zeo and I realized that we only lived down the road from each other. I don't know how or why, but since then, our lives have been constantly connected. He would be at my house every weekend, or I at his, and slowly our group of friends congregated around our friendship.
Zeo still has that same weird sense of humor that sometimes is only funny to the two of us, is still much taller than me, and is as much my friend now as he was all those years ago. At times, he gets to be a bit much, but he's always there for me when I need him, and I know I can always count on him for a good time.
These days, though, the girls are all over him. He has the whole tall and handsome thing going for him at 5'11". His eyes are still the same crystal blue that they were, and many girls claim that they are the secret of his charm. He grins halfway a lot, and our years playing soccer together gave his body an all over lean tone, but especially great calves. For some reason, though, he was never able to hold down a girlfriend. Granted, it was only the second half of our Freshman year, so maybe he had a little maturing to do, but it seemed that he only wanted to use his charm to get girls to do him favors. And by favors, I'm talking about all kinds of favors.
Right now, however, he looked like I just told him Keith was an alien from outer space or something. When I told the story, I left out the gay part though, I figured it was Keith's business to tell and besides, Zeo was surprised enough as it was.
"Like you're related?by blood," Zeo's eyes darted back and forth from Keith's face to mine, as if searching for similarities.
"That's what I've been saying for the past fifteen minutes. Earth to Zeo," I joked, and he brought his fingers up to his ear, remembering our old inside joke.
He seemed to snap out his daze fairly easily, catching the joke.
"This is Zeo coming in, do we have a problem, Houston?" we always played this little charade out when one of us was talking and weren't sure if the other person was listening. It was our way of making sure we weren't ignoring something important.
"Uh, yeah. You're being a total space case," I laughed and he seemed to snap back to reality, as the great Eminem would put it.
"So Keith," he turned his attention, finally able to talk sensibly, "where are you from again?"
"Seattle," Keith answered, "I played football there; do you play soccer like Kasey?"
"Yeah, we've been on the same team since third grade, so I could cover his ass every time he screwed up."
I kicked him playfully under the table, prompting an over-the-table ear flick.
The conversation was starting to flow more regularly; once we started joking around, things got much more comfortable. Keith seemed to have a way of putting people at ease, which was great because he would soon be meeting a lot more people than just Zeo.
We just sat there and talked for a while, allowing the delicious smell of Pizza Schmizza to waft in and out of the conversation. I think I picked a good place for lunch; the walls were lined with all sorts of odd decor, vintage metal signs, ethnic masks. A joint local to the Portland area, the place had a homey feel; even the workers were friendly as they poked fun at Zeo for choosing his Hawaiian pizza. I chose pepperoni, my usual, and I'm not too sure if Keith chose his sausage and onions as a joke, but I found it pretty funny.
Zeo hopped in the car and we left the place at around 12 'o clock. We were taking unusually long (it only takes ten minutes to get to school, and maybe half an hour to get to Schmizza) because I was taking Keith along all of the scenic routes, hoping he'd appreciate the views. And I'm talking about the mountains and trees, not the occasional high school group of boys walking along the road.
Zeo had gotten his sister, Sasha to drop him off but she was on her way to the mall so he jumped in the back of the Tacoma and caught a ride with us. I definitely felt like I hadn't given Keith a thorough enough tour of the Portland area so I opened the window to the back of the pickup and shouted back and forth with Zeo over the roar of the wind. Between us, we came up with a bunch of places that we ended up visiting or just passing by: the stadium of the Portland Trailblazers, the closed Rose Gardens, the Zoo, the shopping areas, and other scenic places. By the time we were done giving Keith a "feel" for Portland, we were all pretty exhausted so we headed back to the house.
It wasn't exactly warm out, so I was glad our pool was heated as we jumped in after returning to find Mom and Dad busy cooking dinner. As soon as we were able to change, we ran out through the connecting glass door and produced an admirable row of three cannonballs.
Zeo's head popped up first after I surfaced. He threw back his dirty blond hair to wipe his face and shot me a mischievous grin before reaching over to dunk my head under the water. I reached out but his arms were too long for me to reach him. When I was able to breathe again, I saw Zeo and Keith laughing, Keith's deep bass and Zeo's amber cello.
I splashed Zeo with a large amount of water, causing his hair to flip back over his eyes. He simply blew air upwards through his lips, fluttering his wet, blonde bangs.
"Is that all you got?" he deadpanned.
I stared at him with a mock angry glare for a few seconds before I shot down under the water and pulled down on his board shorts, causing them to slip off his waist.
Zeo, for some reason, was always an easy target for this type of prank because although he was lean, he liked wearing baggy swim trunks. And yes, the pair that he was currently wearing, or rather, the pair that was now hanging off his ass, belonged to him; there was an entire section of my closet devoted to his clothes because of the spontaneous visits that seemed inevitable between the two of us. I had a drawer at his house as well, because we spent quite a bit of time there, too.
As I sprinted towards the surface and eventually looked back, all I saw was Zeo's bewildered expression. That, and I'm pretty sure Keith was checking him out in a different way, although I think he knew better than to get cozy with my best friend.
We quit the antics and just floated around for a while, talking. When that got boring, we started trying gainers and dives off the diving board; although Zeo and I were better as a result of years of practice, Keith caught on quickly and completed his first clean gainer before Mom slid open the door to call us in for dinner.
Luckily, our kitchen is right next to the pool area, and is polished granite for that very reason. We simply grabbed three towels from the rack, dried off a bit, and wrapped them around our waists before taking seats at the dinner table. Although it was usually just the three of us, my friends frequently joined us for dinner, so the table was able to fit about 6-8 people, depending on how tight we squeezed.
Mom and Dad didn't seem to have a problem with us being shirtless as we chowed down on our Sloppy Joe sandwiches, which they made from scratch. Dinner conversation was nothing out of the usual, especially not as crazy as it was last night with Keith's coming out; still, Zeo kept conversation light with his well-timed jokes, and Keith was beginning to open up and share a story or two.
After a couple of slices of homemade apple pie, drizzled in caramel with a scoop of ice cream a la mode, we headed upstairs to play some video games. Most of the setup was in my room, being that Keith had just moved in, so the widescreen HDTV that we played Halo 3 on my XBOX360 was in the corner of my room. I'd been waiting to buy ODST but hadn't gotten around to it, so Zeo and I settled for this version.
Thankfully, my room wasn't as much of a mess as it normally was when Zeo came over. He was pretty much like a brother to me, so he was completely used to it, and we pretty much didn't even notice when each other's rooms weren't so tidy. However, I cleaned mine on Friday, as it tends to bug me when it gets too ridiculous.
Unlike Keith, who favored his shades of green and black, I was much more into the bolder tones of red and blue. Far from patriotic since George Bush resided as President, I found the reasons I liked the colors were not because they were our nation's, but because I liked the contrast between the fiery power of red and the soothing calm, yet boldness of the blue.
Zeo led the way into my room and plopped down in his favorite chair; it was one of those rocking, gaming ones with built-in speakers. He actually bought it for me for my birthday last year, but he ended up using it more than I did. I laid out on my bed, which faced the TV mounted on the opposite wall and Keith came and sat on my right, keeping me between him and Zeo, who was on my left.
We spent the next couple of hours or so trying to kill each other, with me and Zeo having the most success, as we played it often enough. Dad came up to grab the fourth controller for a bit; he retired when he finally managed to sneak up on me from behind and kill me while I was focused on Zeo, claiming that he might as well quit while he was ahead.
We all shared a few laughs while he stayed to cheer on Keith since it seemed that he was at a disadvantage. He even managed to assist by throwing my pillow in my face just in time for Keith to come around the corner and kill me. I left my controller near Zeo to tackle Dad, which resulted in a wrestling match while Keith and Z took advantage of the situation to wipe out the rest of my lives.
Zeo and I eventually gave in and let Keith win one round, although we both decided to let him win without saying anything. With Zeo, it was almost as if we didn't need words to have a conversation; all we had to do was speak with our eyes. It sounds kind of weird, I know, trust me I know exactly what "weird" entails, but I spent so much of my life with Z, it was almost as if we shared a deeper connection, maybe not to the point where we could read one another's thoughts, but close enough. If I ever asked him a question that required a straight answer, I could tell whether or not he was lying; I think in part, it was that part of our friendship that broke all the barriers between normal friends. We didn't have secrets from each other, for the most part, and never really felt like we had to hide anything. There was simply a sense of comfort knowing that no matter what, there was someone who was going to have my back, to understand me.
Not surprisingly, Zeo ended up sleeping over that night. Usually if we stayed at each other's house late enough, we slept over. Of course, he had to call his mom just to let her know but it wasn't as if she ever stopped him from sleeping over. It was a school night, yes, but it wasn't as if we didn't go to the same school in the morning so that was never really a problem either.
"So, Keith's gay, huh?"
We both lay in my king size bed, as we did whenever he stayed over because it was big enough for the both of us.
"How'd you know?" the bed was big, but for some reason I think we both liked knowing where the other was, especially as it was dark. For that reason, we lay shoulder to shoulder as we stared at the ceiling, which, unfortunately, didn't have glowing stars like Keith's.
"He told me when we were brushing our teeth," we shared a bathroom now, and at the time, I was downstairs letting Mom and Dad know Zeo was spending the night.
I was marginally surprised. I knew Keith was very comfortable with his sexuality, although he wasn't flamboyant about it, but it still bothered me that he was able to come out to my best friend so easily.
"Was he hitting on you or something?"
"No," he laughed and nudged me, "I'm pretty sure he's smarter enough not to hit on his brother's best friend."
"So what do you think?"
"You mean, am I okay with it?"
"Yeah, are you?"
"Well yeah, of course. There's nothing wrong with gay people, I mean, I had a lot of fun tonight, and his being gay didn't affect any of that. So, I really don't see any problem with it," Zeo was a down to Earth kind of guy, which was why I really liked talking to him about things that were troubling me. He would always come up with something reasonable, and somehow make my problems seem much smaller than they were.
"What do you think the guys are going to say when they find out?"
"Ah, Ross might be a goof about it, but he's a goof about everything so I wouldn't worry about it. Especially if Joni's okay with it, she'll help him accept it. James will probably take to it the worst, he has a hard time with changes; there's so little actual stability in his life. And Mikey accepts everyone, so don't worry about him."
"Hey, speaking of Ross and Joni, they've been together two months tomorrow officially," I smiled wryly to myself; happy for my friend, yet surprised they were still together.
"I can't believe you actually keep track of all that shit, Kasey," I felt Zeo shake his head next to me, "don't you have enough floating around in that head of yours already?"
"It's not like I made a mental note of it, retard," I backhanded his open chest, which caused quite a solid thump, as he was fairly toned, "I always borrow her calendar to check for quiz and test dates, and it's only highlighted, sharpied, and glittered."
Zeo laughed, "yeah, that girl is pretty crazy over him."
"Well hopefully he remembers."
"We'll see tomorrow, I guess."
"Yeah, and don't forget we need to show Keith around. It'll be his first day of school tomorrow."
"Alright then, it'll be a big day, indeed."
"Indeed. Good night, Z."
"Good night Special K," he flashed me his grin, which shone even in the low light of my room as he used my old nickname, "'till tomorrow."
"'Till tomorrow."