The First: Same Day, Single Day, and The Day It All Began (Part One)

Enter: Travis and Gabriel Yawanur, two brothers low on luck in an unremarkable town called Babylon

The First: Same Day, Single Day, and the Day It All Began

 

 

Gabriel, Archangel Of The Ones Who Are Constantly Screwed Over By Pretty Blonde Girls:

 

                It was the same day that Jessica Fleet decided to dump me.

 

                The way she did it was cliché. So cliché, in fact, that I felt as if I wanted to drop the contents of my breakfast on her softball jersey, go home, and hate the world a little longer than usual. But I didn't.

                She cornered me on the football field, a site that she would later explain to her friends was chosen because she was afraid her "abusive, vicious ex-boyfriend" would beat her up if she did so in private. 95% of the soccer team and 20% of the people having lunch sixth period would be able to protect her here. She always had a talent for making me laugh.

                What she said was even more cliché.

                "I really hate to do this to you, Gabe. I mean, you know how much you mean to me and how important you are... But I just don't think this is working out. Maybe it's me. I mean, I've been having such a rough time at home..."

                A rough time at home? Was that some sort of ill-placed joke? Her brother was found smoking weed in the garage and now her parents were playing the blame game with each other. Oh, dear Lord, how could she possibly wake up in the morning?  At least her toilet flushed every time. There was a reason to why I never took her home after all.

                When I said nothing on account of my rampant thoughts impairing me, she thought that meant I wanted her to continue.

                "I'm really, really sorry, Gabe. I just feel like I need to be alo - I mean, I feel like I wouldn't be being fair to you if I made you go through this with me."

                I could tell how painful it was for her to lie like that, especially after such a close foot-in-mouth. She almost used the most cliché line in the book: "I just need to be alone right now." The only reason why she took it back was because, evidently, she recalled the day I poked fun at the statement, noting the fact that the girl didn’t want to be alone at all, she just wanted to be alone with a different guy who was probably a better lay. And now, to cover up her slip, she used a lie that made it sound like we could compromise, and that was the LAST thing she wanted to do with me.

                So what was a guy like me to do? I had to make her squirm.

                "Well, really, Jess, I don't mind helping you - "

                "No, I don't want you to!" She said automatically, a bit too loud. A couple members of the boys soccer team had been passing by to reach the turf where the females were playing and monitored us with their eyes, curious of a potential fight. I felt that boiling mass of cancerous misery swelling up in me, the mass that had actually seemed to be shrinking, bit by agonizing bit, over the past month or two. At that moment, resistance felt purely futile. I was just never meant to win.

                I was done playing around. Now she had me mad.

                "Of course you don't," I commented evenly. For some reason I can’t explain, saying angry things in a level voice intimidates girls, especially little blonde ones. I was usually above scaring women - sure, I didn't have good morals, but I was above that - but for this one girl I'd make an exception.

                She frowned and tried to make herself appear as small and helpless as possible. "Really, Gabe, I don't want to hurt you like this..."

                "Of course you don't," I repeated again, for lack of a better statement. This inevitable thundercloud of dread coming my way kept catching my attention. I was barely focusing on the here and now.

                "Gabe..." I hated when girls did that. Murmur their "lover's" name whenever they wanted to appear innocent. All of the lines this girl used had worked against her this time around. I knew her type and I saw all of this coming from the first date. I always had, really, but for some sick reason I always managed to deny the fact with every new girl who came my way.

                "Don't call me that," I spat, the even trait my voice held not ten full seconds ago seeming to fade. "Only 'Viss calls me that."

                Oh, she wasn't expecting that one. I wasn't either. "Gabe, I still want us to be frie-"

                "Like hell you do, Jessie. Say it flat out, or don't say it at all."

                That  stupid freakin' quivering lip she had. "Gabe, what do you mea-"

                "You're done with me," I finally exploded, pressing my fingers to my chest for emphasis, "You got to go out with an idiot, but now you're done with it. And I don't blame you. I'd break up with me too. I wish I could, actually. Maybe break up with me and go out with JMac over there, the football player you masturbate to." It was like she was surprised I knew of her never-ceasing crush. I might be an idiot, but I'm not stupid " it’s hard not to notice when your girlfriend stumbles over the wrong name in ecstasy. We didn't even look alike.

                "Gabe, don't do that to yoursel-"

                "Oh, no, of course I won't, Jessica. I'll sob and hang on your every word until I finally realize what I realize right now. Thanks for the walk, hun, it's been a blast."

                With nothing left to say and the fury-misery cocktail ready to incapacitate me, I threw myself forward  into the summer's end breeze that was blowing a little too strong for this cloudless, sunshiny day.

 

 

Travis, Second Son Who Probably Should Have Been Named Cupid Instead Because He's Just That Good

 

                It was the same day Trecey Foreman first laid eyes on me and my brother.

                It was also the same day I had Cheesy Tots from Burger King.

 

                I wasn't unaware that everybody else who had gathered on the bleachers to eat outside was staring at me and my strange choice of lunch, nor was I unaware that my lunch was a strange choice. If they had known that I had gotten it at five in the morning and waited until now to eat it, they'd think this entire situation was even stranger. And who was I to try to prove them wrong?

                But honestly, what had I been missing all those years? That was the s****y thing about living in Babylon " it was like they had a thing against the BK Man. I know, the King's a little scary, but the place as a whole was pretty original. It all looked just like McDonalds, only a lot less greasy, and they had a better name. It was the only place you could sit inside with a paper crown on and people could actually infer a connection. They'd never know you had bought the crown at some party store and was wearing it simply because you wanted to.

                We'd went there early only because I had been reminiscing about old times, about all the things I missed in the world outside our town; it all just gave Gabe the munchies. Or maybe he got the munchies because our neighbor in the apartment next door was lighting up, like, eight joints and it was seeping through the vent that we were laying by.

                But anyway, these things were totally worth traveling a town away for. And the ham, cheese, and egg sandwich wasn't bad either, even if it was stone cold.

                But my introduction to the Cheesy Tot was not the only thing that made this day special.

                It was a scene right out of a movie - or maybe a comic book - although one would think it wouldn't be as big of a deal to me anymore, being that it happened quite often. I was just watching the female soccer players using their tactics against each other in a friendly skirmish, and Rita Stanford was getting a little vicious against a girl that I didn't know by name but who had sat in my Biology class two years ago. Just as Rita's toe connected with the ball, my eyes involuntarily tore away from the mess that was about to occur on the field to witness a much less amusing event going on to the right of the bleachers.

                Her blonde hair, the white quarter-sleeve sweater, purple tank top underneath, long bootleg jeans, just a dash of  makeup, addictive hazel eyes. I wondered if Gabe had ever taken notice to her before. Nobody else was staring at her intently, like I was.

                Her eyes only met mine briefly. And that's when I was sure I was right.

                I tossed the last five Cheesy Tots into my mouth and stood up as I chewed. I'm sure at least three people thought I was about to puke.

                Cheeks puffed and my taste buds bombarded with cheesy goodness, I hopped down the bleachers.

                I was surprised, dare I say a tiny bit creeped out, when she turned to acknowledge me although I was still five benches away from reaching the often trampled grass she stood upon. That creepy sensation heightened when she didn't turn away. She just stood there, watching me, as if she had known as much as I did.

                It really wasn't fair to be surprised, or creeped out for that matter. I had no right to expect me to be the only person in the world with the Impulse. That’s what I call my strange little sixth sense - the Impulse. When I see a certain object, place, or person, sometimes I know that it will be involved in my life eventually, in some way. I had it for as far back as I could remember, but it had evolved over time into the way it worked now. When I was a kid, I was sometimes just a good judge of character and certain things would bother me for no apparent reason until it popped up into my life again some day later. It didn't really start getting convenient until we moved into Babylon; probably because I needed it more now that I was in an intimidating new place. The Impulse was always a good judge of music, too. I'd found some of my more life-changing records with it.

                But today, it was pulling me towards this girl like she was a magnet. Just like that: “Hey, 'Viss, look that way. See it? Go get it.”

                And I did. These were the only times I wasn't hesitant towards socialization, for reasons unknown. It probably comforted me to know I wasn't going to be making an idiot of myself unnecessarily. Unless that person was there in my life for me to make an idiot of myself to.

                The girl's eyes never came off of me, and the more I looked at her, the stronger the Impulse was. I dropped off the last step and strode near her slowly, struggling to not appear intimidating - my height was somehow overwhelming, according to Gabriel. I wasn't THAT tall, but I suppose a 6’4 tall guy is a little much to take on. But when I slouch - which I always do - I'm barely over 5'10. I think.

                I was comforted only marginally when I saw that curious, slightly worried look in her eyes. Geez, I reflected internally, this girl's eyes just told everything. It could be a whole new form of communication.

                I slowed and, ultimately, halted a foot in front of her. She crossed her arms - a defensive posture, something more typical for guys than girls, I’d always noticed - and I just smiled at her in as friendly a way as I could. I'm not all that threatening in appearance once people take a good look at me, so she didn't walk away, and that dirty look she had slowly dissipated and turned into a more polite form of curiosity.

                "Hello," I said shortly, nicely, fighting to keep that "I know something you don't know" smirk off my lips. It never helps to make people feel inferior; I would know.

                "Hello," she echoed back, tilting her head to one side slightly. "Do we know each other...?"

                "Now we do," I note softly, but not sarcastically. That was one thing that could help me out in the female department - my soft voice. Gabriel was right; I was just about as threatening as a declawed and defanged bunny. I rarely yelled, I barely TALKED, and my arms and legs were these four twig-like obstructions connected to my twig-like body. And I wore black framed, white-backed glasses. "Emo glasses," some people called them. I thought they made me look sort of cool.

                "I guess so," she muttered as a response. She looked me over - regular jeans, "As I Lay Dying" shirt, black zip-up hoodie. Your classic deformed music nerd with too much time on his hands and an anti-social disposition. I was happy with myself, personally.

                "So, to what do I deserve this discussion?" A sharp tongue; intelligent, but won't let on whether she's being nice or telling you to f**k off yet. Gabe would like her.

                "You look a little confused is all." That was a statement I resorted to a lot when I had the Impulse with a person, and it worked well on school grounds especially. I mean really, who ISN'T confused in high school?

                "I'm not confused." She assured me. One of those types that don't want to throw their problems around, no matter how small they may be, I hypothesized. Gabe would like that, too.

                "I've never seen you here before, and I've been going here for three years." Jump from subject to subject, see which one takes.

                "I transferred from Wilmington," She admitted. That was a possibility. Maybe she knew someone Gabe or I knew at the apartment building. "I still live in the same house."

                "That's gotta suck."

                "It does, but I'm getting used to it."

                "Know anyone from this school yet?"

                Her attempt at a cool expression faltered slightly as her hazel eyes scanned the area pensively. "No, I don't know anyone here." But then her eyes came back to me, and with an attempt at a smile she said, "Besides you now, I guess."

                "I guess. I'd offer to introduce you to the people around here, but I kind of don't have friends."

                She seemed genuinely surprised. "Why’s that?"

                "Socialization isn't my forte." Unlike Gabe, I didn't have a problem admitting it. He was always trying to convince me that I'd be good at it.

                "You don't like people?" She inferred, probably just as a thought to keep the flow going.

                I shook my head. "I like people, just not talking."

                "You're talking quite a bit right now." That made me redden a little, and I hated myself for most likely giving off the wrong signal. It was just habit, I suppose, especially since Gabe always accused me of making contradictions...

                "Yeah, well, there are exceptions..." I couldn't flat out tell her, "Well, see, I have this crazy sixth sense, and we're going to run into each other again because this sense says so, so I figure we should just get to know each other right now, you know? Why wait?"

                That would just be weird.

                "And I'm one of those exceptions why?" She interrogated, still not rudely.

                Okay, so maybe I could be just a little cryptic, even though I hated riddles.

                "Why not? Maybe this won't be the last time we run into each other."

                "Are you trying to insinuate something?"

                Insinuate. That was one of Gabe's favorite words.

               

                It all fell in to place with that very thought.

                That, and the sudden appearance of my brother Gabe.

               

                She was something Gabe would make a one-eighty turn for when passing on the street.

                Gabe looked miserable.

                Jessica the Bee, my personal - but secret - title for his girlfriend that was almost always in that bright yellow jersey, was walking away from him and looking vulnerable.

                Someone just got dumped. Every new ending puts in motion a new beginning.

                The ending of a relationship. The beginning of another. That was it. Gabe was meant to meet her…

                ...but NOT like that. And certainly not then. She'd take one look at Gabe and do a one-eighty of a different sort. I was in a pleasant mood on this day, but my brother, not as much. He wasn't going to school the day after, I knew that much just from the way he dragged his feet, and this girl just couldn't get the wrong impression of him. Not unless something dramatically changed.

                But he was coming towards me, and I had to get the two of us away.

                "Uhm, I have to run, actually." I knew making an abrupt statement like that in response to her prying question made it sound like I was embarrassed and had a creeper crush on her, but she'd just have to wait for our true meeting to unfold. However, I just couldn't leave her hanging.

                "My name's 'Viss - I mean, Travis." I hadn't introduced myself to a person in so long, I was using my fraternal nickname, "Who are you?"

                She laughed at the way I phrased the inquiry. "I'm Trecey Foreman.”
                “Tracie with an 'I'?”
                 “It's spelled with an 'e' after the 'r'."

                "Oh. I'm Travis with a 't.'"

                "But that's not out of the ordinary..."

                "Exactly." Gabriel was coming way too fast for his own good, so I made a rush for it. "I'll see you around, Trecey with an ‘e’. Uhm, ciao!" And with that, I was gone.

 

                Little did I know, she'd seen him despite my attempt. But I grabbed Gabe and spun him around before either of them knew what had happened.

 

Author's Note

For those of you from the area, yes, I did steal the town name from Long Island. I was far too lazy to think up a new town name, but the name is all that is stolen.