Claiborne Chronicles: Chapter 1

Valkyr is an introvert at his school and has a healthy obsession with anime and manga. Some weird things have started to happen to him. Most notably, his longtime crush has invited him to a rave.

Chapter One

Never Mind

-Gym-

Frigid winter air nipped at my nose, numbing the end of it. It’s this time of year (when the dew begins freezing overnight and frost covers the windshield of my Scion) when I truly understood the meaning of that one Christmas song. Jack Frost was definitely hard at work this year. The early cold snap and freak snow fall two days previous was more then enough justification.

My teeth chattered and my bones shook while I furiously rubbed my hands together inside the pouch of my zipped Hoodie. I was standing to the side of the gymnasium, near the student parking lot. Across from me were the three smokers that attended our school, two of which were seniors and the last a freshman.

William, Giovanni and Heather respectively.

Now, you might be wondering “why are you outside in the cold when obviously it’s uncomfortable“? Especially when I could go sit in the heated cafeteria and enjoy warm oatmeal or whatever it is they’re serving. And why don’t I just wait in my car? To answer the first question; with the weather south of sixty degrees every student (with exception to the smokers) headed for the cafeteria to stay nice and toasty and I don’t want to be jam packed into a room with my peers. Even if it means withstanding the late Fall climate for ten minutes or so. (My reasoning will become evident in the near future)

To answer your second question; I didn’t think about staying in my car… can you blame me? It’s early and I was up late last night playing Xbox and reading the new Manga I got in the mail.

The sound of a closing car door and gentle giggling grabbed by attention. I jolted my eyes in the direction, knowing exactly where to look and what to expect. A man (technically boy since we’re still in high school) with the same jet black hair as mine, but with much more color to his skin and definition to his muscles. His eyes were the same color as sapphires and his smile was more captivating then an internet viral video.

Dallas Calhoun is his name and he’s the closest epitome of perfection I can think of. If you couldn’t tell I’m in love with him. Too bad he’d never accept me. Case and point; the much shorter and much more beautiful than I, Donna Vasquez, who was walking arm-in-arm with him from his apple red Jaguar. They looked as merry and carefree as ever.

The closer they got, the more tense I became. It felt like I was shriveling into a tight rubber band ball in a trash compactor. When they were close enough to notice me, I averted my eyes stared blankly at the gymnasium door and counted the seconds until they passed.

Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five; they were parallel from me now and buzzing about something incoherent- and then the air went even colder.

“Hey Val,” he paused mid-step and said to me with a casual nod. Donna smiled and gave a slight nod herself. I was paralyzed with fear and panic, and unable to think of anything to say.

Finally (after what seemed an eternity to me, but in actuality was no more then a second) I settled with, “I’m fine,” I responded coolly. They both looked at me curiously and continued on their trek; Donna letting out a quiet chuckle at my embarrassing display of “coolness”.

Epic fail!

While cursing my stupidity a bright figure stepped into my peripheral vision. Halleluiah! (cue the chorus) It was coach Dotson and he was unlocking the gym doors. I felt my body begin to swell with excitement at the thought of the warmness of the gym. Coach Dotson approached the door in his knee high shorts and pulled up socks. It was amazing his legs hadn’t fallen off yet from the artic winds.

“G’morning Valkyr,” he said as a clicking resounded.

“Morning Coach.”

“Come on in,” he invited as he pushed past the large metal door. I caught it just before closing and slid in gingerly. The much warmer atmosphere sent a shiver of relief throughout my body and released a sigh I didn’t realize I was holding. After a moment of enjoying the heat I quickly pressed to the locker room and changed into my gym clothes.

I peeled off my black Hoodie, black and white stripped long sleeved shirt and rustic jeans with skull-headed belt. My gym clothes were pretty standard. A gray and navy t-shirt with my named scrawled across the chest in fancy cursive and dark exercise pants with drawstrings tied into a noose. (I have to admit to having a near emo-goth style. Even my fingernails were painted black)

The starting bell rang as I shut and clipped the combination padlock on my locker. Just in time, I thought to myself. I didn’t like changing around the other guys, it made me feel guilty or something. Not that I’d be more comfortable around girls. Maybe it was just a “me” thing and not a “gay” thing. I paced out of the locker room and around the corner into a large gymnasium with glossy hardwood flooring painted with all the intricate lines for sports I didn’t understand. Coach already had the nets setup for volleyball or whichever sport we were playing that required a net.

Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t hate gym class. I just didn’t like being around my ever-so judging peers. Things like working out and running I absolutely enjoyed. It made me feel… I don’t know. Whole? Something like that. It felt peaceful when I was building up a sweat and all the worries of the world seemed to disappear for little while.

The sound of sneakers squealing against the floor and horseplay from a dozen or so high school guys quickly filled the formerly silent air. This was the moment the day truly began for me. When I was no longer alone, even if no one spoke to me directly. At least I was alive in someone else’s thoughts. Like proof of my existence.

I know, I know. I’m getting all emo again. I’ll try to keep it to a minimum in the future.

“Hey, Val,” said a voice approaching from behind. It was Dallas.

I craned my neck to make eye contact, “What’s up?” He was wearing the same getup as I, but with his name written on the chest in bold letters.

“Nothin’ much. Same old stuff. Sorry if Donna hurt your feelings this morning.”

“I probably would have laughed at me too, so it’s no big deal.”

Yeah right.

“Okay then, but if it helps she wasn’t laughing at you out of disdain or anything. She just thought you looked- uh- cute?” he mumbled the last word awkwardly.

My eyebrows arched in alarm. “What does that mean?!”

“I’m not sure,” he sighed, “she just wanted me to tell you so that you would know she wasn’t trying to be mean or anything.”

“Oh, okay,” I nodded complacently unsure of how to react.

I wasn’t used to people being nice to me. Not that they were necessarily bad, more like neutral. At least the people of Claiborne, Louisiana were like that to me. Donna had moved here about a year ago from New Orleans and immediately hooked Dallas into being her boyfriend. Not that I blame him or her for it. Both of them are stunningly beautiful and have 4.0 GPAs.

“Do you like ____?” he asked without hesitation, but at the same moment coach blew his whistle to signal everyone still in the locker room to line up for class. Dallas took a step forward so that he was standing next to me on the red line we used for a marker.

“What was that?” I asked to his previous statement. Coach’s whistle had dubbed over the last word in his sentence. For all I know he could have asked if I liked stuffed animals. (Don’t ask) I could hear the other boys galloping like a bunch of horses at the track around the corner and into view.

“Never mind. I’ll tell you later.”

I nodded and turned my attention to Coach who was already giving instructions for the days exercise routine. On today’s schedule, mountain climbers and bleacher runs. We were to rotate in teams of two. Since there were an odd number of boys in the class one team would be made up of seven and the other would have eight. One team would do mountain climbers and the other would run the bleachers, which were outside.

Sigh.

Team A was the odd numbered team which consisted of Dallas, myself and other less notable students which included Skylark, the football captain and two of his lackeys (Michael and Jordan). The shortest kid in school Gregory and his good friend White (it’s his last name). I don’t really care to describe Team B so you’re going to have to do without. Boohoo.

First up on the mountain climbers was Team A.

We all got into the push up position and then angled ourselves into a slope and began running in place (should I say climbing?) as if we were running up an extremely slanted hillside. I found myself thinking how ineffective this technique would really be and then had a vivid visual of me rolling down the side of a mountain hitting every possible jagged rock and sharp branch on the way down.

I shuttered and snapped back to reality. There was still a minute left of performing before our final break. The sounds of grunting became a metronome that helped the time pass. My calves felt like they were on fire and someone was dosing them in gasoline at the same time. The release of lactic acids a familiar and soothing sensation that overcame me.

Without even realizing it the minute passed and coach blew his whistle signaling us to stop. We all fell over onto our bottoms panting and sighing in relief. Some going as far as sprawling out like a rag doll. Dallas, who was sitting closest to me, inhaled and exhaled deeply. I watched his chest rise and fall like it was the most interesting thing and then my thoughts went a little more deviant. Like, but not limited to, what did his chest look like doing that without a shirt on? And I wonder if he sounds like this during intercourse?

Yes, I know. I’m a very bad boy. Bad me. Yet… still…

“I better get into better shape if I want to be ready for Soccer this year.”

Did I mention he was captain of the soccer team? No, well he is. “You’re in better shape then I am,” I said gasping for air.

“Alright fellas, head out and tell the others to come in. If any of you decide to sit around instead of running and I see it, you’ll be running bleachers after school today in detention.” Coach threatened, knowing full well that none of us would even think about it.

“Yes, Coach,” we all replied monotonously.

We shuffled lazily to the rear exit of the gym, none of us wanting to go back into the cold. Especially without our much thicker clothes and jackets. “Hurry it up ladies!” Coach blew his whistle and we all crashed into one another while trying to get out ASAP. Nobody wanted to have detention with coach Dotson.

Rumor has it no one has ever survived a detention session with him. Of course I don’t think anyone has ever actually had detention with him before. Go figure.

It’s time to switch!” Skylark ordered. Team B scrambled and those that were still at the top of the bleachers leaped over two at a time to get down promptly. They too feared Coach’s after school detention. I smirked as they passed me, almost laughing out loud.

“That’s not nice,” Dallas added in a whisper.

“But it’s so funny how scared everyone is of Coach Dotson.”

“Well, yeah. The rest of us don’t have notorious parents Mr. Claiborne or did you forget you’re part of the founding family?”

“Yeah, cuz my parents are so gonna do something about it if Coach punishes me. I’d like to see that.” I scoffed rather uppity.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” he apologized with the most adorable sad face.

That’s not fair. It’s like using blitz tactics or psychological warfare. There wasn’t anything I could do against it so my usually solid resolve crumbled. “It’s fine. I was just misdirecting my anger. So I’m sorry. Come on, lets run before we get into trouble.” I said noticing that the rest of the team had already started running.

So there we were, running the bleachers, out of breath and freezing, when Dallas brought up the topic from before. “Do you like raves?” he asked perfectly without a hint of awkwardness.

He's gotta teach me that trick.

I paused for a moment and nearly tripped over the bleacher I was bounding over. After I regained my composure and caught up with Dallas (whom I had been running side by side with and who was wearing a bright grin from my near fall) I replied, “I don’t know. I’ve never been to one before.”

We quickly turned around and back down the bleachers. “Why do you ask?” I added nonchalantly.

“There’s this rave style club opening in New Orleans this weekend and a couple of my friends are going. I was thinking about going, but I don’t know much about raves personally. You look the type so I was curious.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or flattered that he thought he knew me well enough to make an assumption. “Honestly, I’ve never been to a regular party much less a rave. So I can’t tell ya much about it.”

“Oh, well that’s okay. So you’ve never been to a party?”

“Nope.”

“What about birthday parties as a kid?”

“You know very well that my family doesn't celebrate my birthday, or did you forget our promise all those years back?” I teased a little worried he may have actually forgotten.

“I apologize,” he froze on the spot and I nearly fell again trying to keep in sync. The look on his face was solemn and deep in thought, like watching a brain child calculate some complex trigonometric equation. “It totally slipped my mind.”

“It’s fine. I grew up with it, so to me its normal. It never really bothered me anyway.”

He didn’t answer.

“We’ve got to keep running or we’ll get into trouble and I don’t want to be the first students to attend Coach’s detention.” I said scrambling for any reason to get him moving and stop thinking about poor old me. I don’t want the only party I attend to be a pity party thrown by the guy I’m in love with.

“I’ve got it,” he exclaimed and slammed his fist into the palm of his free hand, “you can come with me and my friends to New Orleans. It’ll be new experience for you.”

So would eating a box of thumbtacks. I thought horrifically.

The thought of driving for five hours in a car with other dudes I barely know to go to a club that we would have to sneak into didn’t sound appealing. I mean, spending time with Dallas off school grounds did sound intriguing, but not at the cost of personal space and potential police record.

“No, thanks,” I said and ran down the rest of the bleachers and hopped off. “Time to play some V-ball.” I called as Coach’s whistle went off. The rest of our team looked at me in stunned silence. I had no idea why they were looking at me. I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary (out of the ordinary for me).

“How do you do that?” Dallas asked as the rest of the team scrambled past me, one or two of them giving me lasting looks of strangeness.

“Do what?” I said waiting for him to get off the last bleacher before heading to the gym door.

“Never mind.”

I mentioned before about how much I disliked sports- wait, I didn’t. I just said I didn’t understand them? Well, let me say now I don’t like sports. I’m uncoordinated enough as is without other people, rules and balls getting in the way. I got hit twice in the face, once in groin and missed the ball completely most of the time. Almost like I repel sports equipment. (I was gonna say balls, but took the high road)

I nearly back handed Skylark while serving on more then one occasion (luckily he’s got fast reflexes) and I did hit Dallas in the back of the head while trying to serve it over the net. It was a real mess, but thankfully everyone realized I was a menace and pretty much did whatever they could to keep the ball out of my clutches.

After the game I helped Coach put the equipment back inside the storage room, which was usually what I did every day since freshman year so I wouldn’t have to change right away with the rest of the guys. I took my time and when everyone was out of the locker room I headed in with some of the guys making snide comments.

“Heads up, teachers pet coming.” said Michael.

“Yo, I thought queers were supposed to be good with balls.” that one was Jordan. I should add he didn’t say the Q-word with condenscendingly, more like he didn’t know which word was politically correct.

Did it get to me? Hell yes! But I liked my teeth where they were, so I held back at making my own remarks about Mike’s and Jordan’s bromance. So most of the time I paid no attention to it and just considered it a consequence of coming out in eighth grade. Honestly I don’t know what I was thinking back then.

Actually I do. I was hoping Dallas would find out and maybe confide in me about his own sexuality (at least in my fantasies he did) but no such luck in reality. In fact we didn’t even start talking until last year when we had every class together. Well, holding conversations anyway. Before last year it was a word or sentence here and there. Nothing like it is now.

Once inside the locker room I quickly peeled off (literally this time from the sweat) my clothes and put on my much preferred outfit. As I finished up with my locker I heard the soft smack of a footstep. I turned quickly, ready to strike, which was an extremely unusual reaction on my part. I was never one to do that.

“Don’t attack me!” he raised his hands defensively.

“What are you doing?” I snapped, placing my hand on my heart and still questioning my reasoning for ninja-reaction-time.

“I was still changing when you came in.”

I must have been too busy ignoring the idiots in the gym to notice that Dallas wasn’t out there waiting for the bell. Sigh. He’s the main reason why I don’t want to change with everyone else. Sue me I’m self-conscious!

“Oh, sorry then. I didn’t meant to scare you.”

“You have really good senses.”

“Not really, what makes you say that?”

“Well, you heard me sneak up on you and you knew when Coach was going to call us in. It’s not just that though because I’ve noticed it while we’re in class. Almost like sometimes you know what someone’s going to do or say before they do it.”

“Okay… I’m going to level with you Dallas,” I said and he leaned in as if I was going to reveal a great secret, “you are completely insane.”

He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips in disapproval.

“I mean that’s just weird, mind you that’s coming from me.” I let out a laugh.

“Whatever, never mind.” he said and marched out of the locker room. I followed him with a wide grin on my face and light in my eyes. It was going to be a good day. I could tell.

-Economics/History-

-Precalculus-

-English-

My last period of the day was English and it was also the only other class I had with Dallas. The teacher, Ms. Beatrice, was widely known as the strictest teacher on campus. She also spoke with a heavy Hispanic accent which beckoned me to question the school board for hiring her as an English teacher. Not that I would ever let her find out I felt that way. (Her detention was widely known as miserable)

All that aside, my favorite class is English. It’s the only class that openly deals with fantasy elements like Greek myths and the such. Not that I know much about Greek myths, or any myths for that matter, but I do find them intriguing.

Dallas pretty much avoided me all class long. Still pouting over the innocent joke I made. I guess I didn’t realize how much thought he put into how good my senses were. If it meant that much to him I would have simply answered with, “I don’t know”.

Because I don’t

It wasn’t a trick or skill I developed in childhood or anything like that. Matter of fact, it just happened sometimes, frequently actually, which was why I paid it no attention. To me it’s a normal part of life; sometimes I react to things before they happen. However, I’ll admit that whole ninja-episode in the locker room was kinda weird.

Ms. Beatrice passed out several worksheets of homework to be done and turned in on Tuesday after the upcoming three-day weekend. Today is Thursday, so if I got it all done tonight I would have all weekend to clean out my house. Which was no small feat I tell you. Of course, that rave thing Dallas invited me to was during the weekend and if I attended that I would only have a day to do all the house work.

Listen to me talk, as if I would actually go out with a bunch of kids from our school to a party. I just wasn’t that type of person. Besides, I highly doubt anyone wants me to go. Dallas was probably just being nice to the loner kid. It doesn’t matter that he actually talks to me in class and acknowledges me when he sees me. He’s just a nice person…

So why do I feel this way? Like my heart's going to burst and my skin is on fire. Why does he make me this way? It’s not like I ever really had a chance with him. It's not like I’m especially nice to him. I’d be nice to everyone if they would ever stop to talk to me.

So why…

“Mr. Claiborne,” the evil raptor-lady screeched and slammed her police baton down on a random desk. Both the student’s whose desk she assaulted and myself jumped in our seats. “You may get special treatment from all the other teachers, but you will pay attention in my classroom. You understand me?” Ms. Beatrice demanded.

“Y- yes Ma’am,” our eyes locked, “c-can you please repeat the question?”

She lowered her eyes, twisting her features into a terrifying scowl. “Will you kindly tell me the name of one of Alexandre Dumas’s most famous works?”

Alexandre… we just went over him last week. (As well as five other authors). Oh wait! There’s an anime out about one of his works, duh! How could I have forgotten so easily?

“The Count of Monte Cristo,” I answered matter-of-factly.

“Muy bien,” she muttered disappointedly and moved on to her next victim. Instinctively I shot a glace towards Dallas, he was smiling and giving me a thumbs up. I turned away before he could notice my flushed cheeks, but not before giving him a considerate nod.

The rest of class was spent mostly making sure Ms. Beatrice didn’t notice my spacing out and trying to not look obvious at finding any reason to glance Dallas’s way. I know, it sounds pathetic, and it is, but hey it’s all I got. Class ended the same way it always did; with Ms. Beatrice giving us a warning about not completing our homework and the punishment for not doing so being an hour of copying pages out of a Spanish dictionary. (shutters)

Since it was our senior year and both of us had more then enough credits to graduate, Dallas and I, as well as a handful of other seniors, didn’t have to attend school after fourth period. So at lunch we all had the privilege of leaving for the day. I was on my typical trek to the student parking lot when I was stopped at the West gate (where I was waiting earlier before school began).

He was waiting for me coolly, as if it was an everyday thing, and for a moment I imagined what it would be like if he was picking me up for a date. Or that he was going to give me a ride home and then we’d hangout in my living room watching trivial things on TV while fighting the steamy urges in our teenaged hormonal blood. (If I’m getting a little naughty I apologize and will try to keep things PG-13 from now on- then again life isn’t PG-13- so whatever)

“What’s up?” I announced soon as he was in earshot.

“Nothin’ really. It just donned on me that you don't have my number and I don't have yours. I have no way of getting information to you about the rave. So here,” he said in a jumbled mess while fetching a sharpie from his pocket and popping the cap off with his mouth. He signaled for me to give him my hand. I did, and in a swift stroke his number was written in fine black ink across my palm. “Give me yours and I’ll text you later to make sure you get it.”

Man, he is seriously serious about me going to that rave thingy. I guess I don’t have much of a choice, I thought in defeat, but not even I could conceal the joy it brought me.

“Here,” I said taking the maker from him without giving him time to prepare, “I have unlimited everything so don’t worry about how many texts or whatever.”

He looked at his own palm and gave the number and quick scan. “Thanks. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” he departed without so much as another glance back. Still, I was elated at the notion of him thinking about me.

For a good minute or so I just stared at the number on my palm. It’s not like I didn’t already have it memorized and programmed into my phone. Honestly, I had his number in my possession since early last year when I was a teachers assistant after school. I looked up his number in the teacher’s log one day when the teacher had to go use the restroom. And that’s the extent of my spy skills.

-Later that night after I finished all seven pages of Ms. Beatrice’s homework assignment-

(Warning the next section is in txt-speak and may causes confusion, irrational anger and lower IQ)

-------------------------------------------7:19 PM------------------------------------------

Hey, it’s me Dallas

(Unfortunately I didn’t see the text message until a few minutes later)

-------------------------------------------7:31 PM------------------------------------------

Wht up

U nvr seemed like sum1 tht uses txt-speak

-------------------------------------------7:32 PM------------------------------------------

Whoa, whoa, whoa

Calm down buddy. I don’t use text-speak. I was just trying to seem cool. I can’t even read what you just sent me JK

-------------------------------------------7:33 PM------------------------------------------

LOL I was just making sure you got my number on your phone (can you read that better)

Much better, but you can use txt-speak if it’s easier.

-------------------------------------------7:34 PM------------------------------------------

Good bcuz it takes me 4ever 2txt w/o it

U txt fast

Is that all?

-------------------------------------------7:35 PM------------------------------------------

O, I almost 4got 2tell u tht sum raves have themes

The theme 4 this 1 is “mystical mayhem” or sumthing. U might want 2 wear a costume, but u dont hav 2

(already an idea was forming in my mind)

Hmm, dancing to dubstep while dressed as a mythical creature. Kinky.

LMFAO I cant believe u said tht… whts dubstep???

-------------------------------------------7:36 PM------------------------------------------

It’s music that sounds like Transformers having sex

(Nothing for a few minutes and I begin to worry that I went too far)

-------------------------------------------7:39 PM------------------------------------------

Why the silence? I wasn’t joking. Here, I’ll send you a link to tubeyou

(insert confidential link here)

-------------------------------------------7:40 PM------------------------------------------

Srry, was hlping my dad w sumthing

ill check out the link

(enough time passes for him to get the gist of what I meant)

-------------------------------------------7:42 PM------------------------------------------

OMG it does sound like robot sex!!! Thts 2 funny XD

Agreed

-------------------------------------------7:43 PM------------------------------------------

Well, Im gonna do some of Beatrice’s hmwrk. Night.

-------------------------------------------7:44 PM------------------------------------------

G’ night Dallas

End of chapter one