"Oh man, you really should've gone to my house." Nick laughed, and Sem clicked his tongue in annoyance. He knew his best friend would laugh at him, but he'd really needed to offload, and told Nick all about last night's fiasco anyway. Final hours in school did make a perfect time to vent. They were supposed to be searching for an English literature book to write a report on. Instead, they slacked off near the book cases.

"I mean," Nick's expression turned more serious when Sem didn't joke with him like usual, "Obviously this would end with your mom flipping out again."

"Yeah, I guess so. "

"A-hum!" Mrs. Till, the librarian, shot them a disapproving look over the rim of her glasses, probably for talking too much. Sem gave her a blank stare, until the old lady nervously lowered her eyes.

Rumour had it that Mrs. Till worked with delinquent teens before accepting a job at the school. Sem wasn't sure if he believed it. She was the size of a Chihuahua, and didn't have any authority over the high school kids whatsoever. Let alone over kids who'd actually broken into houses, did underground bare knuckle fights, and carried knives. They would've smelled blood, and eaten her alive.

Nick walked over to the nearest bookcase, and pulled out the thinnest book from the shelf. "Okay, your parents are making you go to this camp, but they can't physically make you stay there. Why don't you just come back? We can hit the clubs. I still have your fake ID."

"Much appreciated," Sem replied, "But it's a no go. When I said mom flipped out, I meant really flipped out." Sem knitted his brow. "She threatened to stop paying for my kickboxing lessons if I don't go, or bend over backwards for this Lisa."

"Geez. That's a cheap shot. Way below the belt," Nick looked offended for his sake, which Sem appreciated.

"Thanks."

Nick knew exactly how important these lessons were to Sem. It'd been hard fight -- harder than any fight he'd actually done inside the practice ring-- to get them. He'd been nagging for it since he was ten. Four years later, Sem had sneaked himself into a kickboxing class, and trainer Ralph immediately saw potential in him. 

After months of secretly and illegally practicing with some pointers from Ralph, and then finally Ralph coming over to meet his parents, arguing the sport would teach Sem self-control rather than aggression, they finally caved. Sem suspected it was out of pure desperation. His parents were willing to grasp at anything that might teach him discipline, which might carry over to his schoolwork. 

"Hey, there's Emma. And Matthew and Ethan. Bastards went to get fries without us-- and we call them friends? Pff." Nick looked at the library doors, and Sem followed his gaze. Ethan, Matthew, and Emma came sauntering into the library, chatting and laughing. The two boys each held a paper cone with french fries. Emma was carrying nothing. Then again, she didn't eat anything but fruit, vegetables, and nuts. She was on a new diet every week, despite already being super slim.

Nick stuck up his hand to get their attention, and the three came walking their way. They passed Mrs. Till, who now looked positively vexed. The fries were crossing the line so far, she finally seemed to have decided to leave her desk. Her heels click-clacked on the floor as she followed the food offenders, arriving at Nick and Sem's table at about the same time as they did. "There's no food allowed in the library, boys."

"Goodness." Sem's eyes went wide. "We understand Mrs. Till, no food in the library. That's why we're making it disappear." He leaned over to Ethan, stole a fry, and popped it into his mouth. "See?"

Ethan and Nick snickered, Matthew looked faintly amused, and Emma stayed quiet. All eyes turned to Mrs. Till, curious how she'd react to the challenge.

For a second, it looked like the old librarian lady was going to say something, but then her shoulders drooped. One little taunt, and she just gave up. "Get rid of it, okay?" she mumbled, before turning. Sem watched her frail form retreat back to the desk.

"Definitely did not work with criminal kids," Sem said, and Nick nodded in agreement.

"That was mean Sem." Emma looked at him with big, brown doe-eyes as if she was expecting an apology. Sem only shrugged. Emma was a sweet girl, from her attitude to her perfume. But honestly, the lady shouldn't be working at a high school if she couldn't handle it.

A series of sharp whistling suddenly sounded from across the library, and it made them all look up. Some guys Sem recognised from economics class were making a big fuss. "Sexy ass!" one of them yelled, although it was clearly not meant as a compliment. Mostly because the words went accompanied with a flying piece of trash aimed at the guy who, supposedly, had a sexy ass.

Blake Passant was walking by, and when he did, he left whispers and the occasional uproar in his wake. He'd outdone himself today: those jeans he was wearing were so tight, Sem wondered how his balls fit in there. And even if he'd been dared, Sem would never take one step inside the school with make up on. Blake however, wore it proudly and openly. He held his chin up and shoulders back, walking confidently beside his rather plain friend Karen.

It was like Blake had a checklist with all stereotypical gay traits, and was determined to check every single one. Sem instantly felt his mood plummet at the sight of him. He didn't want to talk about him, even if it were bad things. So when Ethan opened his mouth, Sem cut him off. "Yeah there's Blake. Still a flamer. Been there, done that. Can we not?"

"Really? Been there done that?" Ethan grinned, wiggling his eyebrows, and Sem punched him in the arm. "You're gross."

Sem felt Matthew's eyes lingering on him after he punched Ethan, and an uncomfortable feeling crept over him. Matthew had the unnerving ability to pinpoint, and relentlessly poke at your one weakest spot. He'd be quiet, normal, and then suddenly pounce when you least expect it. Was he on to something? Matthew hadn't noticed anything on the football field, right?  Crap, Sem smiling at the college boy had been about as subtle as a freight train.

"Blake does do make up better than many girls," Emma said, always eager to find the positive sides to people.

"And I don't know, I do think he'd be better looking in a dress than Karen," Nick jokingly added.

"So you'd take him over her then?' Matthew suddenly asked. He was targeting Nick, and Sem felt a little better. At least Matthew wasn't singling him out with his eerie staring.

"Aw man, you're making me choose? Why not both?" Nick laughed. 

"Also, him over her?" Ethan added. "Let's be real here, we can't call Blake a 'guy.'"

Nick and Ethan were way more relaxed than Sem was. Maybe he should make a joke out of it himself in the future too. It looked a lot more natural than getting angry.

Blake disappeared around the corner, and for his friends, that seemed to mark the end of the discussion. But Sem was still staring at the hallway, pondering about the phenomenon that was Blake Passant. If the guy wore normal clothes, scrubbed the make up off, and kept that confidence, he could be kinda cute. Sorta. Probably. So why did he act that way? He'd be in for a lifetime of stereotyping, being laughed at, and being treated like a second class citizen. Being called 'not a guy', and having to fight to be taken serious with almost each new person he met. 

Sem wasn't the same as Blake, not in the slightest. He'd had never felt the need to wear make up. He didn't act feminine. He didn't know more than the average joe about fashion. His friends knew he wasn't the same, too. Especially Nick. They had to come around for him, if he ever told them about being the g-word, right?  They wouldn't treat him like most people treated Blake. 

Nick waved his hand in front of Sem's face. "Are you coming too?"

Sem blinked. "Where?"

"The mall, get a gift for Sophie," Ethan said.

Oh, right, it was Sophie's birthday. Sem wasn't really close to her. They only hung out because of Emma, really. 

"No. I have some other stuff to do. Just buy something from me too."

A knot had formed in Sem's stomach, and all he wanted was to get out. 

Nick didn't push it. He probably assumed Sem's bad mood had something to do with his mom. "Alright, meet you at at eight?"

"Sure."

There were dark clouds in the sky when Sem stepped outside the school building. Aw shit, he didn't bring his coat. Normally, his mom shoved it into his hands as he headed out, but after that fight yesterday Sem had pointedly dodged her. He'd left the house without appearing at the breakfast table, and without saying bye. Well, unless throwing the door shut extra loudly counted. Sem glanced up at the clouds. Maybe it would've been better if he'd taken the bus, especially with the weird bipolar sunshine/rain thing going on these days. But waking up in the morning with some fresh air in his face beat sitting on his ass in a musty vehicle any day. He'd take his bike, thanks. He'd just have to hurry. Sem pulled his ancient but trusty bike out of the rack, and hurried off. 

 The light drizzle started once Sem approached the halfway point to the garage. Muttering curses under his breath, he pedaled faster, but it was to no avail. The rain got harder and intenser more quickly than he could ever cycle. Within a few seconds, Sem felt cold water leaking through his shirt and pants, onto his skin. Cursing some more, and squinting to keep the rain out of his eyes, he took a sharp left to the industrial car area.  

Sem held a firm grip on his bike, riding over the various dents and cracks in road. Just in time he spotted a particularly large dent right in front of him, which he swore hadn't been there that morning, and squeezed the handlebars. The front wheel went over fine. Then, his back wheel rolled inside the dent and with a loud clang, the pedals suddenly spun out of control. The clang was followed by a rattling noise, and when Sem looked down he saw the chain dragging across the concrete. "Shit!" 

He jumped off the bike and gave the useless thing a hard kick. "Great, just fucking great!" he yelled, though nobody could hear him. 

You would think he'd had his share of bad luck yesterday. But, no, never even think things can't get worse. At least he couldn't get any wetter than he already was. Even his underwear was completely soaking. He'd have to call someone to pick him up. No way he was going to walk all the way home in this downpour... His phone! It was inside his pocket, getting soaked along with the rest of him. Sem fished it out, and tried wiping the screen a little. It wasn't very effective with his wet shirt, but at least it seemed to still be working. 

Who would he call, though?

His friends couldn't really help. Dad's work was too far away, and mom obviously wasn't an option. No, he was on his own. Sem took a few deep breaths, and finally looked at the damage. The chain was obviously broken at one of the pegs. He sat next to his bike, and grabbed the two ends of the broken chain. Sem's hands turned black with grease as he fiddled around with them, trying to make them reconnect. No matter how he fit the pieces together however, the pegs refused to click back into one whole. A part had to be missing. 

With another frustrated slam of his hand against the bike, Sem got up. He really didn't want to walk all the way back. It'd take ages, it was still pouring, and it didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon either. 

Looking at the road ahead, unsure what to do, his eye fell on a nearby sign which depicted a motorcycle and a car. He had almost reached the industrial area. Lots of car garages there. It was worth a shot. Maybe there was someone in that building who could fix the bike. If not, at least they had tools and he could give it a go himself. Sem got the bike up, and started walking. 

 The car repair station looked deserted from outside, but the gates were open and Sem didn't see a 'closed' notice anywhere. Water dripped onto the floor, forming a trail behind him, as he entered the building. Glancing around, he still didn't see anyone, but there were sounds of what he guessed was a drill coming from further back. Leaving his bike at the entrance, Sem walked in further while dodging some crates, and following the sound. Behind one of several cars, Sem finally spotted someone's backside. The guy wore a blue uniform, and was bend over the car, tinkering with the number plate. Then, he stood up straight, and Sem froze. If his heart skipped any more beats it'd qualify as a heart attack. He recognised that back. It was him, unmistakably. 

Standing with a drill in his hands, completely focused on the car, was the hot college guy. Jack.