Chapter 1: Plan of Action

Harboring a personal vendetta against President Gonzalez, Jasper is inspired to start a movement in resistance to his oppressive policies.

That was about the last I saw of my friends before the gang split up, growing further apart over the next ten years as we each started our own lives and only rarely kept in touch. I only encountered Xavier twice during that time, simply because he was so busy with his career. Second practically became a phantom after college; we'd all kept each other's phone numbers after graduation, but I assumed he must've changed his without notifying anyone else. It didn't surprise me; for as long as I knew him, he always looked as though he was slightly troubled, even though he acted relatively normal. Maybe he vanished simply to give himself some space? Tequila's dream of becoming a professional author quickly came true, and her career took off. I saw her more often than the others over the course of the decade, mostly at college reunions, and each time we met, she had less personality than before. I always knew girls matured faster than guys, but geez.

As for me, I took up a job that involved operating a printing press. Even though the industry that each person worked in depended on their hair color, the exact job they worked was entirely up to them. And seeing how I was a brunette, I had no choice but to work in the financial industry. My job paid decently, and offered little to nothing in the way of a challenge, but that didn't mean it was fun. I probably would've had much more fun as a microbiologist, which was what I'd always aspired to be growing up.

I trudged home one rainy night, following a day at work that somehow bored and pissed me off at the same time. I attempted to unlock the door at my father's house in Augusta, Maine, only to find that my key didn't work. That dumbass must've secured the second lock that we only used once we were both inside for good. I lived with my dad simply because I couldn't afford my own place. I mean I technically could, but it would most likely be run-down and infested with vermin, and I didn't want to compromise my health just for the sake of living alone. And even though my job paid decently, the constantly fluctuating tax-percentage had a major impact on how much of my money I could keep on hand. Sometimes I had just enough, and other times I had less, so I didn't want to chance it.

With no other choice, I rang the doorbell multiple times. Dad didn't take very long to respond. I could hear a few beeps as he shut off the alarm, and a few clicks as he unlocked the door for me. He was a tall, burly man who was approaching sixty, with a full head of dense, curly, honey-brown hair that was flecked with gray. His cerulean eyes were dull and sunken in, and he had a bushy unibrow and mustache that matched his hair. Short and to the point, he had absolutely none of my physical characteristics.

That's because he wasn't my father. My biological parents divorced just a couple of months before I was born, and my mom was quick to remarry while I was still too young to form memories. Had this been like any other blended family, I would've grown up calling him Conrad, but I called him Dad nonetheless, even after I was told the truth. If anything, it was just proof that bond is more important than blood will ever be.

Thank God I already knew all that. After an excruciating day like today, the last thing I needed was for some major bombshell to be dropped on me.

"Oh, it's just you, Jasper," Dad said, his aging voice marred with faux-sympathy. "I, uh, see you're running late tonight?"

"I told you this morning, Dad. I had a meeting, so I wasn't able to leave work as early as usual," I replied.

"Yeah, well hopefully you'll get your own place soon," Dad replied, locking the door behind me. "Remind me again, why are you still living with your old man at thirty-two? It's bad enough you're still a virgin."

"Dad, not now," I grumbled as he chuckled under his breath. "Trust me, I'd totally be willing to move out, but until this damn administration stabilizes the taxes, I'm afraid I'm stuck here."

"Well at any rate, the chowder's waiting on the stove. Hopefully it hasn't cooled off too much," Dad continued.

"Great. I'm starving," I replied, somewhat eagerly.

After hanging up my drenched jacket and taking off my boots, I entered the kitchen. My mom's yellow Dutch-oven was waiting on the stove, filled about halfway with a batch of my dad's famous clam chowder recipe. It was one of the very few dishes he could prepare without royally f*****g it up. Opening the lid, I was pleased to see some steam leak out, letting me know it was still warm. I ladled some of it into a ceramic bowl and grabbed three of the toasted baguette slices that were sitting on the table, before joining Dad in the living room.

"Hey, Jasper. You just missed The Benefits of Death marathon," he said somewhat excitedly. "Why was that show never renewed for a third season? It was comedy gold!"

I simply shrugged and plopped onto the faux-leather couch, proceeding to eat. I knew the carb-ridden food would most likely keep me up late, but I didn't care. Whatever meant satisfying my stomach for now. As soon as I sat down, however, Dad got up.

"Alright, son. I'm gonna go clean the kitchen. Feel free to change the channel," he said. "I'll leave the soup out a little longer, but just be sure to put it up when you've had your fill."

I nodded and took the remote, switching to MSNBC - the news channel I'd been watching my entire life.

"This just in, folks! President Gonzalez has publicly shifted his stance on abortion rights in America!" a redheaded newscaster announced.

"I have officially decided that I am completely against the idea of abortion in this country! It's just another form of murder, and we have no need for laws that protect dirty w****s who can't keep their legs closed!" Gonzalez announced. "Oh, and to those who thought I was pro-choice during the campaign trail, that story is fake news!"

I tightened the grip on my spoon, my fist curling so tightly that my nails nearly cut into my palm. A barely audible growl escaped my mouth as I fixed my glare. Every time that guy came on screen, I just couldn't help but scowl. Enrique Gonzalez was a stout, overweight man with salt-and-pepper hair on the sides and back of his head, as well as above his lip. He was a Republican, and the first American president in history to be of Mexican-American descent.

It was quite the achievement, but that didn't mean I liked him. In addition to being the "mastermind" behind all those stupid discrimination laws, he was - as shown by that statement from the television - incredibly acerbic and nonchalant. He'd also somehow won both the 2024 election, and even two more terms purely due to a unanimous vote from the Electoral College. Even though he openly admitted to sexual misconduct, collusion with North Korea to win the election, and usage of a private email server, and yet the government and even a microscopic minority of the population supported him all the way. Not even Fox News was there to defend him on his bullshit. I really wish I was joking, but sadly I'm not.

"Dad, are you hearing this?!" I called into the kitchen.

"Hearing what?" Dad asked in response, stepping into the living room and standing behind the couch.

"The president just flipped his stance on abortion!" I replied.

"Are you serious? I'm positive that guy said he was pro-choice during the campaign!" Dad grumbled.

Did I mention he was a massive hypocrite? He was like one of those guys who'd claim to be against gay rights, only to get caught the next day getting a blowjob in the men's room at his local T.G.I. Friday's.

"Y'know, Dad, I never thought I'd say this... but I'd rather have Bush, or even Trump back in office," I said.

Dad just stared at me like I was six years old, telling him that my army of action figures would protect him. I absolutely hated it when he gave me that look, because its meaning was always ambiguous.

"Yeah, well they're probably both dead by now. Not to mention ol' Gonzalez has a much bigger pair of hands," he finally chuckled in reply.

I rolled my eyes and focused back on the TV. Leave it to Dad to kill the mood in one fell swoop, no matter the situation. He was like that one friend at a birthday party who would always gift you with a practical item instead of the hottest new toy or video game.

"Dad, I'm serious. Gonzalez is the worst president we've ever had," I said.

"Worse than Nixon?" Dad asked in reply.

"Yes, he's worse than Nixon!" I snapped. "When will someone grow a backbone and stand up to this corrupt administration?!"

"Son, you're starting to sound like your mother," Dad replied.

"Well that's because she was right, Dad," I replied, calming down a little. "Y'know what? I'm sick of watching this crap."

I proceeded to switch channels, before stopping on a late-night talk show by the name of Up Late with Teddy Griffin. The show kicked off with a brief jazz jingle, before a portly, middle-aged redhead in a business suit appeared, casually sitting behind a desk. He was bespectacled, with bushy facial hair and a thin comb-over on top of his head.

"Good evening, folks! I'm Teddy Griffin!" Teddy announced. "To kick off tonight's show, allow me to introduce our first guest of the night: five-time Newberry Award winner, Tequila Rodriguez!"

Accompanying the applause and a second jazz jingle, my college friend stepped out onto the stage, grinning widely and waving at the crowd. It'd been barely a decade since graduation, and yet she hadn't aged a day since then. However, if there's one thing about her that did change over the years, it was her fashion sense. Gone were the days of leggings, mini-shorts, and tight-fitting crop-tops. Nowadays she was making public appearances in business suits. Some with slacks, others with pencil-skirts. Some in solid colors, and others with subtle patterns. The blouses she wore underneath always had the top three buttons undone - not enough to reveal cleavage, but it made for a great tease nonetheless.

"Say, isn't that your ex from college?" Dad asked.

"What?! N-No! Don't be ridiculous, Dad!" I stammered in reply.

"So, T-Rod! I believe you've got a major announcement for your fanbase?" Teddy asked after the two shook hands.

"No kidding. I'm here to talk about my next book, which will be titled The Puberty Diaries. Most of the books I've already published are all surreal and fantastical, but this time I wanted to write something down-to-earth, realistic, and relatable," Tequila explained. "This book is gonna have it all: first time of the month, the extra parts, those odd urges. I was planning on including a scene where I got my wisdom teeth removed, but I'm not sure if growing your wisdom teeth counts as puberty."

"Yes. Well I think the question on everyone's mind tonight is what purpose this book serves. After all, everyone goes through puberty, so what makes this so special?" Teddy said.

"Well, Theodore, the fact of the matter is that sometimes a story's conflict can be highly relatable. And with this book, my target demographic is adults who are in that phase of their life where they reminisce about their past, as well as people who are coming of age right now. And puberty is one of the biggest things that happens during adolescence. When someone goes through puberty, it doesn't just change their body, but their whole world as well. Sure, we as adults don't spare it much thought now that we've already gone through it, but consider what it's like for someone who's currently going through it now," Tequila explained. "Plus, if you're gonna tell me that I can't write a book about something simply because it happens to everyone, then we might as well start boycotting books about romantic relationships and midlife crises, am I right?"

Teddy then adopted an expression of shock on his face, clearly speechless at how compelling and well thought-out that response was. If there was one thing Tequila excelled at, it was shutting people up with her exemplary reasoning skills and quick thinking.

"Well said, Ms. Rodriguez. Well said," he replied after a few seconds. "So, uh, seeing how this is based on your own experiences, I'm willing to bet there won't be a guy version?"

"Now that's what I call a silver tongue," Dad said.

"Damn straight. She'd probably make a great spokeswoman for my movement," I replied.

And Dad once again gave me that stupid look. God, I could've strangled him right then.

"Come again?" he asked.

"You heard me. If nobody's gonna stand up to those b******s in our government, then I will," I said, my face and tone determined.

"Yup, you are starting to sound like your mother," Dad muttered with an eye-roll.

"Y'know what? I'm actually gonna do it! As early as tomorrow! Finding people who agree with me shouldn't be too hard, right?" I decided. "Hmm, maybe I should start with my friends. They'll probably be the easiest to get through to... and it'll give us some time to catch up with each other."