As expected, I was  currently swimming laps at the school's indoor natatorium (which was twice as grossly grandiose as everything else at Sandifer Bay High) for my aquatics tryouts as part of my two-hour long detention led by dear old Dad and accompanied by Lita and Diane. Of course, my encounter with Christina Velasquez was the current hot topic at school as everyone upped the ante on making sure that I stick around with Dermott and Company.

"Hustle, Kyle, hustle!" I heard Dad say as I channeled my frustrations out by doing the breathstroke. "Add some heat to the laps!"

The one thing about my love for swimming (As much as I hate being a jock) is that I can easily let myself think without the demands from everyone to be a part of the social-media social climbers.

Reaching the end of the wall, I flip-turned in anticipation of the next lap and started the butterfly strokes as I recounted my chat before the tryouts with Lita, her not being too happy with me talking to Christina...

"Vion, I still can't believe that you allowed Velasquez to walk you back to class," she said from the outside as I was changing in the men's locker room into the triangular swimsuit that I was given. "And you already know by you dad that she's nothing but trouble, just like the rest of the nobodies here."

"Well, she was pleasant enough to talk to, right until she asked me to stay away from Marcel," I hollered, stripping out of my underwear before putting on the swim brief and feeling self-conscious at how slightly skinny I was. "I mean, I get that she's part of the 'Outcasts' and all that, but she implied that I was chasing after Marcel. And in my defense, I didn't know that they were dating before Dermott dumped her and came out of the closet."

"Now you know, and she's not over the break-up," Lita said. "Look, Kyle, you didn't know about her and I understand that you still have a lot to learn about how things roll around here. But you need to be circumspect to who you speak to. Marcel and the others, myself included, are on top of the food chain with almost everyone else here striving to be like us. The Outcasts, Velasquez included, are the ones who want to scare kids like you away and keep you from reachign your potential."

"And what about me?" I couldn't help but ask. "Where do you think I stand alongside the nerds here?"

There was a brief pause, then, "You and the nerds- the AV kids, the Book Club members, the tech kids, and even the LARPers- are all wild-cards who haven't fully committed yet. But in your case, you're the main joker card who could help Dermott and everyone else settle things once and for all. And everyone sees that you have hidden potential, just so you know. All you need to do is figure out which side you're on- the Populars like yourself...or the rejects. You hold the key to unlocking one or two doors, the one to tragic mediocrity or the one where you can truly thrive. Choose wisely, York...

And if I didn't feel more and more frustrated about everything going on before, I was feeling it now, hence me swimming my ass off in this pool and ignoring how insecure I was as the beanpole-thin twink in a sea of athletics. Finally satisfied with my performance, I reached the end of the wall and came up for air just as I saw my parents, Coach Brooks (the swimming and diving coach), and even the girls (Lita and Diana) arrive while I got out.

"Nice work with your laps, York," Coach Brooks, a tanned Asian man, commented. "Welcome to the team. I talked with your parents and I'll make sure that you not only pack on some muscle to bring out the inner athlete in you but also a proper diet plan to keep you at your physical prime. Practice starts tomorrow alongside your tryouts for the diving team."

"Good to know," I breathed, accepting a long towel from Mom.

"All part of the plan to get you on the winning team," Dad crowed. "And I'll personally make sure that you fall in line on how things stand around here."

Oh, brother. Does this fool ever stop with me being on my jock? I wonder if he grew up in a family like this who expects nothing but the best from him.

"Kyle," I heard the booming voice of Kaleb as he, Vincent, and Marcel (all of them in their football-practice gear) approached us. "I've been meaning to tell you earlier that my parents invited you and your family to dinner tonight, so don't make any plans."

Wait, what? I slid off my swim goggles before turning to my parents. "And when you were going to tell me this?" I asked them.

Dad shrugged. "We weren't," he replied. "But all the same, you are going to the dinner party and will make a good impression. And with Marcel and the boys there, you won't be alone. It'll be good to spend time with the boys and get to know them better, plus know about Kaleb and his family. While your grandparents will be there, you're to give the guys your undivided attention. Am I understood?"

Damn his ass. "Understood," I said, knowing that I can't fight him even if I wanted to.

"Great," Mom said. "Lita's sister Macey dropped off your outfit earlier, so you're to shower, change, and join Marcel and his crew there. And I took your phone so you won't try to contact anyone back home. Remember, your attention is to be focused on Marcel and his friends."

Folks, this is why I think that this town alone is the present-day version of Stepford, where perfection is always mandatory.

****************

I really hate dinner parties where I'm expected to work the room and make nice with those wannabe reality-stars who should be focusing on their future careers. But here I was with my family and the guys at Stanley family residence (a two-story ranch-style house that was too opulent for my taste) and in the large dining room with Kaleb at my left, Marcel at my right, and Dad in front of me. "I'm loving this right here," the quarterback said eagerly as he ruffled through my slightly-cropped hair. "Kyle, this beats being near any unwanted pests any day. Stick with the right people and you can't go wrong."

"Agreed," Dad commented as he helped himself to a breaded chicken breast while I got stuck with a grilled chicken breast and some greens ("The better to keep your body in perfect shape since you're on the swim team," commented Mrs. Stanley, a former cheerleader and current gymnastics coach). "You'll thank us for this later, Kyle. We're not going to let you sit and watch life pass you by."

RIght.

"So, Kyle," Mr. Stanley, the owner of the cafe he hired me to work for as a dishwasher for the weekends, said after everyone got their helpings, "I hear that you're still a bit unsure of being a part of the in-crowd. It's a bit demanding if you don't know where to go or how to present yourself, but my son and his friends will make sure that you don't slip up and be with the wrong crowd."

"And with a schedule that will boost your social life and help you make the right connections, you can expect a lot of doors to be opened once you allow yourself to open up and be sociable," Mom added.

"But what about his personal time for himself?" Grandpa asked, shoooting my parents a sharp glare. "At this rate, you might as well have him running ragged and facing burnout."

"He can have that as soon as he apologizes to his father for telling him off," Mom said. "He was out of line for what he said, Daddy. You and Momma have raised him to be a cynic for all of his life while Khadijah and Khandi did what was expected."

"That's because they're your clones, walking Barbie dolls who lost their personalities thanks to you," Grandma shot back. "Kyle has the good sense to know what's right and what's wrong. And from where I stand, y'all are dead wrong for him."

"That's too bad because I'm not going to let him ruin my plans for him," Dad said before turning to me. "I mean it, son. You're not going to let yourself miss out on the finer things in life. You need to get on the bandwagon and be a part of the solution and not the problem. Until I see that you're willing to do so, I'm not relenting on you and neither will everyone else."

**********************

"Your dad's right, Kyle," Marcel said as he, the others, and I were currently taking an after-dinner walk (as "suggested" by Dad under threat of lockdown) through the neighborhood while the sun was setting. "Your grandparents raised you to be cynical and would keep you from your potential if you're not careful. Would you really be happy be sitting on the sidelines and wondering what could've been?"

"You wouldn't," Vincent answered before I could even open my mouth. "All you would do is be stuck in a dead-end lifestyle and be miserable. You coming to Berkeley and meeting us was part of fate, Kyle. It's time to take advantage of what can be rightfully yours if you allowed yourself to take a chance."

"You guys, I don't know if I can be even capable of being a part of your gang," I said tiredly as we headed towards Mealer Street. "I mean, I stick to what I know so I won't be hurt in the process. And even if I did give it my all, Dad and Mom won't be satisfied because they'll still keep raising the bar on me."

"That's not their fault, but their responsibility to make sure you don't stick to your comfort zone," Rory pointed out. "Gretzky once said, 'You miss one-hundred percent of the shots that you don't take.' And up until now, you missed a lot of the shots just by not taking them. Now that you're here, you can have us at your side to help you take those chances and be a part of the bigger picture."

Just as I was about to ask what the bigger picture was, the guys' phones buzzed, Vincent frowning at the screen. "Guys," he said.

"Let's go," Josiah barked. "But we need to make sure that Kyle heads back to his place."

As if thoughtfully planned, a police car cruised towards us before coming to a stop and the front windows revealed two female cops. "You guys all right?" one of them asked.

"Yeah, Officer Bauer," Marcel said. "Listen, the guys and I need to head out and handle some business. Can you make sure that our new friend Kyle gets back to his home?"

"Sure," the second officer replied before stepping out and opening the rear passenger door for me. "Hop in, kid."

I did so as the guys waved goodbye. "See you at school, York," Marcel hollered before they took off to a different direction.

"Where are they going?" I found myself asking as the police car pulled off towards Kaleb's house.

"Never you mind, kid," Officer Bauer said roughly. "Just know that we all have our eyes on you to stay away from unwanted distractions. And since we all know your parents while you got settled in, you know that we're making sure that you stick with Marcel and his brood. Stick with the right crowd, and all will be fine."

The second officer gave me a sad grin, as if she thought the same thing I was thinking: I didn't belong here and I was only setting myself up for trouble.

After a few minutes, I was back at the Stanley residence with Dad waiting for me. "You did good, son," he said as the cops took their leave. "And it was nice for Bauer and Monroe to take you home when the guys needed to leave and handle some business. But this changes nothing. You're still under severe watch until you start playing ball. You WILL be a part of the winning team...or else."

He led me back inside as I had questions in my mind: What was the REAL deal with this town and its demands for perfection? And why was my dad so hyped up for me to be a part of it all? But most of all, was I ready to find out the truth when the time came?

Folks, if this sounds like a bad plot from a soap opera, then I don't blame you.

Well, folks, I think that two of these questions will be answered in act two while the other will be a bit complex to discover. All the same, you're going to need to hold on because this story is going to be complicated.

Dedication: Denyefa4.

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