*Lokela

Lokela showered, dried himself off, brushed his hair and teeth all on auto-pilote, keeping his hands busy while his mind drifted far away from the small house and even the city of Honolulu.

He followed his plans for the future out the door, down the streets, past the family shop where he was scheduled to work for the rest of his life, and off the island. His thoughts plunged into the endless sea. There was so much left to explore. Trenches, rolling plains, and sunken treasure buried in a watery grave and thick mud. Formed layer upon layer for millennia and populated with strange creatures from the most twisted fantasy stories.

That was where he wanted to go. But in his own twisted stories. There would have to be heroes. Or better yet, heroines to lead the way. Readers loved a good heroine. Tragic backstories, grit and determination, backbone and spunk. A heroine to face horrors from the unexplored depths.

It was Lovecraftian, sure, but it could be great.

She could even be fake blond to break a few stereotypes. With a sharp tongue and brown eyes that didn't allow a single detail to escape them. Of course she had to be smart. Smart was sexy as hell. Mix up deadly adventure and a killer that may or may not be human and there could be a good story. But not too much romance.

Blonde and smart might be pushing the envelope too far, but if she fell for some jack-ass hero and wound up waiting to be saved when stranded in a deep-sea submarine, the whole thing would be ruined.

She couldn't fall for a jack-ass. Those eyes would never be fooled.

Shit.

Lokela wrapped his towel around his waist, tying a loose knot at his hip. She couldn't fall for that jack-ass.

Zach was his friend for the last three years, sure and they had had some great times together, but the guy was a jack-ass at heart. Not the mean kind that you have to watch, but the always looking for the next best thing kind.

Lokela was something of a jack-ass, too, he recognized it when he saw it.

Ray didn't need jack-asses in her life, no matter how annoying. In fact, because she grated on his nerves, he should help steer her clear of them. He could hear the whining and crying now when Zack wandered off to find something new and shiny to play with and left her alone, broken hearted.

Yeah. Lokela would do the right thing and make her understand that Zach wasn't for her.

In his room, he threw his sheet back on his bed in a semblance of order, picked up dirty clothes for the basket, started shifting through his notebooks and papers for class. And basically procrastinated. He should talk to her.

Someone knocked on the door next to his. He put his ear to the wall that separated his room from Ray's.

"Hey, what's up? I was just on my way out," she said.

"Real quick, I have a class later and I need to impress a certain special person. Hawaiian shirt with red hibiscuses, or blue polo?" asked one of the guys. It was probably Doug, but Lokela couldn't be sure when eavesdropping through the wall.

He mentally kicked himself for being an nosy spud.

"Personally I like the polo, I think guys always look good in a fitted top, but this special person might like the relaxed, vintage style of the Hawaiian shirt. What can you tell me about him?"

There was a pregnant pause where neither spoke and Lokela held his breath. Him? Did that mean Doug was gay? A gay dude in their house with them?

"Can I come in?" Doug asked so softly, Lokela almost missed it.

"Of course." The door shut.

"How do you know the person in question is a guy?" Doug asked.

"Well, if I hadn't noticed you weren't into girls the first second I saw you, the fact that you know what a Hibiscus flower is would have given it away. Now, can I ask you a question?"

"All right." Doug's voice was stiff and guarded.

"Why are you trying to hide who you really are in your own home? This place should be your sanctuary, not a masquerade ball. Are you afraid of what the others will think?"

Doug was silent and Ray continued. "Because you shouldn't be afraid of being yourself in your home. I understand life is tough, especially for someone who doesn't fit the mold, but at least here, you know. Be you."

Doug mumbled something.

"I'm not the same as the guys here. I fit in great. Or if I don't, I don't care. This is my home and I'll be who I am. I guess if I had to, I would leave, but I won't be cowed by others or hide in my room from them. I'm with you. If that makes any different."

There was a soft, choking sob, but no more words for several seconds.

"I think," Doug said, taking an audible breath, "I think he'd go for the vintage shirt."

"You'll be stunning. With that dark hair and blue eyes? Good luck, tiger. I'll see you tonight and send me a text if anything comes up."

Lokela waited until the sound of Doug's footsteps faded down the hallway and there was no more noise from Ray's room. Had she left already, too? He had to get to ten o' clock class. He headed out of his room.

Miller was jogging up the stairs. "Hey, what's this about your dickhead friend wanting to date Ray?"

"I'm not my dickhead friend's keeper. Ask him or Ray if you want to know," Lokela snapped. He didn't have patience for the older brother controlling act.

"I'll be watching your dickhead friend, and you can tell him that. I'm at work a couple hours this morning with Dad. I'll see you for lunch on campus?"

"Are you buying?" Lokela asked and passed him by in the stairs. A quick stop in the kitchen to fill up his thermos with coffee. He was topping it off with some milk when Felipe appeared at the lanai door to the back yard.

"Ray get a chance to talk to you about your cans of spam crowding out the other guys' space?"

Lokela pivoted, deliberately setting his coffee gently on the counter so he wouldn't accidently throw it. "If I hear about Ray one more time this morning, I'll start punching people. Is that clear?"

"You don't have to be an ass about it. All we ask is you move your food to your area so the rest of us can get our stuff in the cabinets. What's your problem?" Filipe came in, aiming for the coffee pot which contained about one more cup.

"His problem," said Trevor, strolling in with his usual saunter and topless attire. Not that Lokela was bothered by petty details like clothes, but he wasn't sure Trevor actually owned any shirts. "Is that he gave Ray's number to some dude who wants to get laid. I say, we kick both their asses."

"I didn't give anyone her number. I don't have her number," Lokela snapped. He bunched his fist and tapped it in his left palm.

"Hey, if we are kicking Lokela's ass, you have to wait until I come back," Miller said. Backpack over one shoulder and sunglasses down, he was ready to head off to work, probably to go over the books with their father. He picked an apple from the fruit on the counter (fruit on the counter? When had they started keeping fresh fruit in a basket on the counter?), tossed it in the air and caught it. "I get to help."

"Thanks, bro. Glad I can count on you." Lokela shook his head.

"No problem. Next time, don't let your jerk friends get within sniffing distance of nice girls like Ray. See you for lunch."

"I'm outta here." Lokela grabbed his thermos, sloshing the hot drink on his hand. He had forgotten to put on the lid.

"Not until you rearrange your spam. Ray was good enough to mark everyone's space, so get yours in the square," Filipe said.

"Tonight. Later."

Outside, the warm air helped clear his head, and he unlocked his bike for his ride to the campus. He rolled it to the end of the drive. Several cars passed, and he waited, one foot on the ground.

His phone rang. It was his father's tone. It rang again. A third time. He was almost to the point of letting it keep ringing when he caved. Not talking to his father was not going to solve any problems.

"Hey there. I wanted to wish you luck for your classes today."

"Hey, dad. Thanks. They should be good," Lokela said. Scanning the horizon, he wished he could end the call already any get to campus.

"So, more marketing classes this year?"

"It's my major. I have three this semester," Lokela said.

"Good. I'm proud of you. Anything else interesting?"

He pressed the bridge of his nose at his brows. Why were they having this conversation the morning his classes began? "The Ocean Technology class should be interesting. And useful. Like you said, all my classes should be useful for my career later. I gotta go now, I'm biking to campus and don't want to be late."

"Talk to you later, son. Have a good one."

"You, too." He shoved his phone in his bag. Then took it out, turned off the sound and shoved it back in place. That was more than enough family communication for the day, as far as he was concerned.

In order to be the son his parents wanted, he had had to drop English as his major, plus he had to act happy he was taking marketing and business classes instead. His soul was nothing but a thin shadow of who he used to be.

Once, when he was five, he was swimming with one of his uncles and a shark had come at him out of nowhere, bumped into his shoulder and then swam off. He had sat on the beach shaking in terror for the rest of the afternoon.

Maybe he would have been better off if the damn thing had taken an arm, so he could refuse to work at the dead-end, soul-sucking, joy-killing shop his parents had founded.

Anything would be better than Statistic Analysis for Business Decisions first thing Monday morning.

"Lokela, are you going to class?" Ray asked. She had purchased a hot-pink, second hand bike with pompom strings coming out the handle bars that made him physically ill. "I'd say let's bike together, but there's only so much grimacing I can take when I'm not being paid."

"Good to know. That's pretty much how I feel about blond hair."

He knew he was a dickhead, but at that moment, he couldn't be the guy who was easy going and laid back no matter what. He hated that he had to go to a class he despised, was trapped in a situation by his family, and had to put up with Ray.

Zach would be in the picture soon, too. He really couldn't take that. Without another word, he pressed hard on his pedal and the bike shot out onto the road. The trade winds ruffled his hair and shirt, cooling his flushed skin.

Business classes were like rusty nails scraping down his spine. Sooner or later, one would break the skin and poison him.

The next afternoon, Ray was out of sight and out of mind until he went to work. As he neared the shop, he slowed and threw one leg over the back side of his bike to stand on one pedal as it rolled to a stop. Her voice came from the side of the building.

A phone call? He couldn't understand what she was saying. Parking his bike silently, his ears pricked, listening for more. Apparently, he had turned into a major douchebag who had to eavesdrop on every conversation he could get close to.

A guy spoke instead. "That doesn't mean you can't hang with us. We're nice. Let us show you a good time."

Lokela paused. That didn't sound nice at all.

"Except, I just said no. That doesn't work for me. I have classes, homework and my job and then on Saturday, I'm meeting up with someone," Ray said. There were some shuffling footsteps, as though they were walking in circles.

She was trying to move and they blocked her?

"A guy? Who cares? You might just change your mind after you spend some quality time with us and not want to meet up with him."

Something heated to a boil in Lokela's gut. His hand tightened around his back-pack strap, as he weighed his options. If it came to a fight, his parents would never forgive him—they might even follow through their threat to stop paying for his classes and fire him.

But Ray needed help. He would have to get her out of there without a fight.

"Are you out here, Ray?" he shouted and stomped to the side of the building. She was cornered between the dumpster and two college age guys.

The relief that lit up her face at his arrival almost made him start swinging at the assholes who had her scared and trapped.

"Well, darn it," she said. "There's my manager. I told you he was strict. I have to go now."

"We're just talking here for a couple of minutes," one of the guys said. He was tall and held himself like he was tough shit, which he probably was on the football field. But this was the street—Lokela's territory.

"Get inside now, Ray," Lokela said, keeping his distance. There were two of them, and he couldn't afford any problems.

"Let the lady take a break. You can handle the imaginary customers for two minutes."

"I really wouldn't mess with him when he's managing the store. You guys have no idea what you're dealing with," Ray said. She took a step to slip between them, but the jock put out his arm to stop her.

He faced Lokela. "Get your Aloha ass back in your store while we have a quiet conversation with our friend. Not joking."

Lokela's vision went dark. His fists clenched.

Ray started to laugh. "Oh, boy. Can I explain something real quick? Lokela can kick both your butts in the time it takes me to fiddle my pretend violin that I'm sad for you."

*** And.....she's really not helping the situation, is she? I hope Lokela can get her out of there before it turns ugly and he is disowned by his parents! Thanks for reading, you lovely people!!! Hit the star if you like it. ***