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Prologue

It was the break of dawn, my father still hadn't come home and mother was highly concerned. She paced back and forth in the living room so that she could see if his car approached. The sun filled the sky with all shades of pinks and orange, blazing away the still of night.

"Maybe, he's being kept away at business. He works in the big city, so we can't expect him to be home every night."

I was lying to myself; he would have called at the very least if there was anything that would keep him away from home, especially two nights in a row. Father wasn't like that, he was responsible.

"Clayton," she paused, her golden eyes locked in on my eyes. She was a brown timber wolf, ever so slightly graying along her muzzle. Even the tears that poured forth from her could not mar her beauty, and in the touches of new light from the horizon, she seemed to be even more powerful. "Sit down. There is something that we need to talk about."

I obeyed her, her strength shown through her sadness. "Clayton, you're father's dead."

"He's just been gone for two-"

She silenced me with a look. "Listen Clayton, you're father and I agreed to this. That should he ever go missing, that we must have this conversation." She peered back out through the window.

"I don't understand."

"You're only twelve, you won't understand anytime soon. You see, you're father was no ordinary wolf."

The phone in the kitchen rang, and abandoned the conversation as she rushed to answer it.

"Valen-"

She paused for what seemed like hours, and she hung up the phone and began to cry. The visage of her power crumbled away. I would never find out who made the call or what was said to her over the phone.

It was years later when it all started to make sense.

Chapter 1

"Clayton! You'll be late for school!"

"No I won't!" I yelled down to her from my room. In all honestly, I probably was going to be. Where did I put it though? I needed to have a waiver signed if I was going to get into High School football. There was also the matter of getting my mother to sign it. Maybe I shouldn't even try. I was skinnier than most of the foxes and I knew--and that was plain pathetic for a wolf my age. The guys on the football team would probably never accept me. Why should I even bother?

The picture of my dad and I playing football was still on my dresser, and the waiver sat underneath it. They were where I had left them, because I knew I'd forget where I had put them. I took them both downstairs.

"Clayton, the bus is going to get here at any--" she eyed me carefully. She sighed, "You want to join the football team."

It was eerie, because I hadn't even showed her the two items I had hidden away in backpack.

"Corey's mother told me that you wanted to try out for football. This is just because of Corey, isn't it? Just because he's in--"

I interrupted her with my secret weapon.

She looked at it, and I could see her smirk ever so slightly, "Alright, alright, I concede. Just know that I tried to protect you from it. Those high school jocks are little shitheads and you're not like them. You're better than them."

"Wasn't dad a high school jock?"

She looked off in the distance, "Yes, yes he was. But you're father was different from them." She had that look that told me she was visiting the fond memories of the past. "You're father was brilliant too, beyond what anyone could comprehend."

While she was in her haze of falling in love with father all over again, I slipped the paper in front of her. She signed it and sent me out the door with my lunch. The timing was impeccable. The bus had just pulled up. I got on. Toward the middle of the bus, Corey was sitting there waiting for me. Corey was the same age as me (born just two days before me). He was a lion-wolf half-breed. Corey just started to grow his mane this year, and it made him look very debonair. He waved me over.

I took up the seat next to him, as I plopped down he asked me, "Did you get it?"

"Yea, got it just at the last minute."

He reached over to grab my backpack, I beat him to it. I showed him the waiver that I just successfully convinced my mother to sign.

"Not that, you faggot, the latest issue."

"Oh," I reached into the other pocket of my backpack and produced the last 4 issues of 'The Wolf from Mars' that Corey had missed during summer vacation. Corey and I shared a similar passion in comic books since we were little. My father got us both a copy of the first Wolf from Mars comic. We were infatuated ever since. The exploits of the hero were devoured by our tender and voracious childhood fantasy. We both wanted to be the Wolf from Mars.

Ever since, it's been a common hobby between us. Though, Corey had picked up a few more hobbies since that day eight years ago. Football namely, and wrestling in the wintertime, lacrosse in the spring. This year, I was hoping to do some of those things too.

The bus came to a halt at Michael Smith High School. Corey stepped off the bus in a hurry to catch up with the friends he made at his football camp.

"See ya at practice," he called back to me, waving as he disappeared into a crowd of people walking toward the main entrance.

* * *

It was the first day of high school. I had been here before. We took a trip here last year to familiarize us with the campus. It was a pretty nice high school compared to some of the other ones in the other counties. It was built nearly 40 years ago. There was a very official sign posted for Freshman Orientation. I followed it to its eventual end at the gymnasium. It was a larger gym than I had ever seen. There were at least a hundred other students in here. I saw some guys that I knew from my last school, but they didn't want anything to do with me. What good was a new start if you're clinging to the past?

The principal, a forty-something year old short and roundish beaver, gave his speech about how they will change us from "little degenerates" into a "useful resource for the rest of society". I mostly looked around at all the new faces. It hit me then that this was a new start. The student council provided us with our class schedules. My first class was Social Studies with Mr. Price, after that was Home Economics, then America Literature, followed by Math and lastly, Gym class. That was great. I wouldn't even really have to change for practice.

Mr. Price opened his class with a diagram of heroic acts from the various super heroes from around the world. Mr. Price was a fairly tall skunk. He felt it was important to "bestow" upon us the tools to know which areas of the world were primary suspect to attack from super villains. Megalopolis Cities like Seattle would be subjected to very large scale attacks. Bank robberies were not as frequent these days, but it would still be preferable for one to do their business online. "Identity theft is always preferable to Mr. Melt's Melt Ray!"

I raised my paw, "What if it's like Swampwolf book 41? And the identity thief has to consume you're DNA in order to steal your identity?"

"Child what's your name?"

"Clayton."

"Clayton, don't ever bring up that sci-fi fictional fantasy hog wash into this classroom again. Otherwise I will send you down to the principal's office."

I felt so alone right at that moment, the class just sort of laughed and giggled while the teacher carried about on which super hero was dating which other super hero. My brand new fresh start was starting to stink.

Needless to say, I didn't make any friends through lunch. I sat mostly by myself in the lunchroom. It was easily divided into several groups, most of which I couldn't tell outside of the clothes that they were wearing. I guessed it made it easier to identify who you were by the sheer fact that you dress like the people you want to hang out with. I became rather self conscious of what I was wearing. I couldn't think up what to say when people asked me why it looks like my mother dressed me (she was the one who bought all the clothes in my wardrobe). The Juniors and Seniors were allowed off campus from what I had heard last year--at the time I couldn't wait to be old enough to get a car and a parking spot so I could drive myself to lunch. Not, that there were too many places around town to really get lunch, and I had grown mostly accustomed to mother's cooking.

Still on the hunt for a place to sit and eat, I was greeted by an otter; he was bulky for his race. I realized then how racist that sounded, even in my own head. "You're that kid from Social Studies, the one who was talking about comic books, right?"

"Oh, yea, because Mr. Price was talking about ident-"

"Yea, yea. I'm not really into comics, but some of my friends and I are gamers, so we know you're plight."

"Gamers?"

"Don't you have a computer?"

"Oh," I scratched my head embarrassingly, "My mom has one, she uses it just for email--"

"Wow, okay, well," he looked over at the table where I assumed his other friends were sitting at, "Why don't you come and eat with us, because you're heading into dangerous territory right about now. The shark tank."

Odd, I don't remember there being a shark tank around here the time I had visited. I peered down the path that I was cutting through the lunch hall, and a few yards before me lay awaiting a small table of the high school jocks. Strange that Corey wasn't among them.

"Anyhow, the name's Lester," he extended a paw, and I met it with mine. I thought I should've at least tried to meet some of my future teammates, but it seemed like I would be able to have plenty of time to hang out with them during practice. So I walked with Lester to his table with his band of friends.

Most of them wore dark colored clothes, some of them also wore eye-liner, which I couldn't exactly figure out why, but it would seem rude to ask. They seemed genuinely friendly. They talked about all sorts of things, but, there were acronyms and pseudonyms and all sorts of numbers related to it.

Rusty, the stocky cougar, had quite a thick brown goatee. I couldn't figure out if he was supposed to even be in high school, "You play any P and P?" he asked.

"I-" I didn't know how to answer that.

Lester translated for me, "Rusty's asking whether or not you play tabletop. Which, I figure you don't, since you look lost over the question."

They went on to explain to me what it was, and they got together a group every weekend to play. The lunch hall began to empty out, and we grabbed our stuff and started to head out. Rusty informed me that it would be great to have me join them some weekend to play, after all with an extensive working knowledge of comic books, I should be able to know how to roleplay.

* * *

My American Literature went off without a hitch. We were assigned Hamlet--despite Shakespeare being from England, and not American. Math, we began with some pre-calculus. Most of the students were lost, but I seemed to gather a knack for it. My father was always really good with math.

Gym class. I didn't want to admit that I wasn't any real good at it, but I gave it my all. We were going to run around the track for the entire period. Most of the girls in the class walked, some of the boys jogged, and I tried to keep up with the hares and the deer that ran. Maybe these guys were going to try out for the team as well. Their great agility would make them great running backs and wide receivers. I would've asked them at the end of gym class, but I was entirely out of breath. I didn't even get the chance to ask them when they had lapped me the third or fourth time.

Okay, maybe I wasn't in the best of shape, but I couldn't do anything but improve.

I was excited for football practice. It had been in my mind ever since the end of math class. I had my form all ready as I headed from the locker room to the benches. Everyone was already suited up in their uniforms. I wasn't sure where I was going to get one. The coach was a big bull, and he looked at me as I had interrupted his speech to the rest of the team.

"Alright, out on the field." he called out. The team stood in unison and pushed past me, as I turned to follow them, someone grabbed me by the shoulder. "You, who are you?"

His eyes narrowed down upon me, I don't know if my head was going to catch on fire, but he had that look about him.

"My god, are you Val's kid?"

"My name's Clayton."

"That's right. Jeez, you look just like him. You have your mother's eyes, though." He realized he still had his arm upon my shoulder and let go, "What brings you here?"

I brought him out my paperwork.

"You want to join the team eh? I suppose you're a little more like your father than I would've guessed--though he was in a lot better shape to be doing football. Well, let's get you suited up."

He took me to the storage room. "Well, we can give you some loaner stuff for now. You're going to have to pick up some of your own gear, especially stuff like this." He pulled up a jockstrap from a small bin of them. Some of them were rather, stained.

Before I could ask, he answered, "Yes, you have to. Now hurry up and get down to the field."

The gear was quite heavy, but I made it down to the field, my legs still sore from the laps around the track. I could do this though, I can definitely--I tripped and rolled down until I reached the field. It got a laugh out of everyone, I guess. Corey went through practice without saying a word to me. He didn't say much either while his mother drove us home.

I felt miserable. My fresh start was entirely rotten.

Chapter 2

I was dead tired by the time I got home, hunger didn't even strike me when I sat down at the kitchen table.

"So?" Mother asked in her most ominous voice. A wry smile crossed her face.

I looked at her. Her golden eyes could read me like a book. I sighed.

"You're not going to quit are you?"

"Thought hadn't even crossed my mind."

"Good. I hope you don't, I hope you stick with it."

I was surprised, "Really?"

"Naw," she smiled, "I was hoping you'd quit, take up journalism, or join the debate club. Don't they still have some sort of math competition?"

I let loose a long sigh.

"Cheer up sport. Tomorrow is another day."

I immediately thought about the next day, would there be a cleaner jock strap in that pile of them? Probably not, the one I had found earlier was a little more tinged with color than I had hoped. I was told they had been bleached over the summer. I don't know if I would have felt any more at peach if they had been black in the first place.

"Mom?"

"Yes, son?"

"I need equipment for football."

"You could've asked me this morning. Your father's old gear is still in the shed out back."

"You let me go out to school without that stuff?"

"The thought cross my mind to tell you, I would've felt better to not have you wear those dirty used athletic supporters that they keep in the locker room."

"How did you know about those?"

"You wore one of them?"

"I had to."

"Dear, go take a shower."

I felt a lot dirtier at that very moment. I was a little more than embarrassed when everyone else got in the shower after practice. Most of them were so, much more, bigger. Maybe that would explain why Corey didn't say anything to me, was it because I smelled of sweat and dirt?

The stairs to my bathroom suddenly became my worst enemy. I managed to overcome it, and instead of taking a shower, I submerged myself in a bath for an hour.

A gentle rap on the door and my mother called from the other side. "Still alive in there champ?"

"Yea, I'm just really really sore."

"Well, I'm going to bed early. I'm going into the city tomorrow to talk to my publicist. Dinner's in the fridge if you'd like some, and I laid out father's gear on your bed. Night honey."

"G'night mom."

We exchanged "I love you's."

It grew silent save for the trickle of water in the tub. My fur wafted in the water as I looked at the clock sitting next to the window. It was 10. I still had homework. I managed to pull myself out of the tub, with little effort, but a lot of luck. I walked myself to my room in just a towel.

True to her word, she had put down all of dad's football gear. It laid there, still the same school colors. I wasn't sure if they'd let me keep his number. I tried it on. Everything was big on me, even the jock strap. It felt quite strange to be wearing it, but not as much as the thoughts that ran through my head. There was a lot of room in there. I realized that now I was thinking of my father's junk and quickly turned my thoughts onto the fact that I had yet finished the assigned reading or my current events report. The ghost of his privates trapped inside the support still haunted my brain as I started my homework.

Mom had a subscription to the Seattle Times, it had quite some travel to get out here, but it had a lot of good articles in it. There would probably be something in there that I could report on. Problem was, it was all the way downstairs and I was all the way upstairs. The getting downstairs part wouldn't be as difficult, but it was that coming upstairs part that concerned me. My legs hadn't been much help the first time.

My backpack was downstairs anyway. There'd be no way to do either of my assignments from sitting on my lazy furry butt up here. I slowly walked downstairs, as a chill ran through me unprotected ass; I had realized I was still only wearing the supporter and a t-shirt. God, what if my mom saw me like this? I was already halfway down the stairs. It was a lot of work to go back upstairs.

No, she was already in bed. It'd be okay. As I got to the bottom, my muscles were feeling a lot more relaxed. I walked into the kitchen and pulled out some of my mother's lasagna from the fridge and put it in the microwave oven. I was really feeling better by that point. Maybe that bath had done miracles. Maybe I wasn't as out of shape as I thought!

I wrote up my article on Nitro Husky and how he defeated Misery Machine's ploy to destroy the I90 floating bridge with his Machine Bots. It was quite heroic. Nobody criticized the fact that at least a dozen people were injured during the battle.

* * *

"Do you think you could do better Clayton?" Mr. Price interrupted me during my report of current events.

"If I had the super speed that Nitro Husky has, then I could do a little more to try to get innocent people out of the way and not be as reckless."

"What would you do in the meantime while the Machine Bots were shooting at you?"

"Well--"

"Well, nothing young man. Nitro Husky did beyond what he needed to, for heaven's sake. He saved over 90 other people on that bridge. This is why he's the hero. Now back to your seat."

I went to go back to my seat, "Oh and Clayton, see me after class."

This caused a very near audible giggle in the room.

I waited until after class to approach.

"Ah, Clayton. You're getting a C for that report of yours. You're mother should be ashamed."

I said nothing.

"You could at least type out your report. I know your mother types her novels on a computer, you should do the same."

"I don't use my mom's computer. It's her stuff, I leave it alone."

"Maybe you should convince her to get you a computer."

"I guess I could."

"There's a good lad."

I turned to leave.

"Clayton, one more thing," I turned around and he held a book in his paw, "Could you get your mother to sign this?"

I took the book from him. As I left, he called out that my report was up to a B.

* * *

I had lunch with Lester and Rusty and their friends, they welcomed me into their fold. They talked excitedly over some game they played just last night.

"So tonight?" Rusty asked me.

"What about tonight?"

"Games and Gizmos is having an em-gee-tee tourney."

What? Maybe they were letters? M-G-T? What did that mean though? I asked for clarification nonetheless, "What?"

Pasha, the rather plump arctic fox with blue and black hair interjected, "Where are you from? Mars? It's Magic the Gathering."

Lester answered her, "What if he is? Go back to your manga."

She poked her muzzle back into her novel.

Manga wasn't a letter, I thought. "Manga?"

Everyone's eyes darted to Pasha.

"Oh fuck, you are from Mars!" She said clearly and loudly enough for the entire lunch hall to hear. They paused briefly, and then they returned back to whatever they were doing when they had realized who was overreacting.

Rusty sighed, "Pasha, chill," he turned back to me, "It's a trading card game. We play it on Tuesday nights. You should come by. It's about eight people who attend. Do you know where Games and Gizmos is?"

"There's a Golden Age Comics in the same area." I responded, having seen the sign for it the last time I had hit the comic shop.

"Ugh, yea. I think," he looked over to Lester, who just replied with a shrug, "Yea, I think I've seen it there before. Whatever. We meet there at six, order a pizza, and it starts at seven."

"Oh."

The otter piped in, "Something the matter?"

"Yea, I get out of practice at five thirty. My ride usually just takes me home."

Rusty dangled some keys from his paw, "I can give you a lift home, little Martian."

Lester smiled, "So see you after practice?"

"Yea!" I was excited. I didn't usually get to go hang out with friend after school. Then I realized how overly excited I sounded, and hoped I wasn't as loud as Pasha.

Rusty looked around, "That's the football field right?"

Lester replied with another shrug.

"Yea, but we leave from the locker room."

"Got it," Rusty said, "and, that's next to..."

* * *

Math class opened up with homework review with the Teacher Assistant. The teacher called me over.

"Mr. Kovinski?"

"Clayton, I saw your eighth grade assessment test."

I knew it! The answer to the last question was D. Why? Why did I mark C?

"What are you even doing in this class?"

Damn it, he was going to put me back into algebra. I did my homework, I even did it during class yesterday, I know how to do pre-calc and trig. I was certain I did.

"Did you finish your homework?"

"Yes, sir."

"Bring it here, along with your backpack." He put on his reading glasses.

I walked back to my desk and grabbed my assignment. I could feel the heat from everyone's eyes on me as I walked back to the teacher's desk.

He took the paper from me, "Yea, just as I thought."

"I didn't cheat Mr. Kovinski," I pleaded.

"What? Oh, no. You showed all your work. That wasn't my concern. This class isn't going to challenge you at all. I'm signing you up for Calculus."

"What?"

He scribbled some notes down onto a hall pass. "Here, take this to the student councilor's office. Ms. Brenda will fix it for you."

I managed to find my way down to her office, and presented her with Mr. Kovinski's note.

"Dear, a freshman in a junior level class. This is unheard of. I mean, I think someone had said that you didn't get that last answer on the assessment correct so they were just going to leave you in the proper level class.

"Well, that's done. You'll just have to report to Mr. Marshall's calculus class. Go ahead and head there now."

I didn't even know where it was. I turned to leave.

"Clayton, don't forget this," she passed me the note from Mr. Kovinski and her own signature scrawled on it.

Mr. Marshall's class happened to be on the other end of school. The map they had given Freshmen only seemed to cover certain wings of the school grounds.

A Junior level class! Mother would be thrilled to hear about this. I still managed to get to the other side of campus before the end of the class. The bell rang just as I had stepped in. Several people were already walking out as I arrived, including Lars, the quarterback of the team. He was a big Rottweiler with a light reddish orange hair. They all crowded past me.

Mr. Marshall was sitting at his desk; the room was quite similar to Mr. Kovinski's.

"Can I help you son? Are you lost?"

"I'm here to see Mr. Marshall? I have a note for him."

He took the note from my paw.

"Ah, I heard about you. Well, go over to the locker over there and grab a calc book, and fill this out and leave it on my desk."

After all was said and done, I was fifteen minutes late for gym class. I didn't have time to change into the jock strap that I had in my backpack and just changed into my shirt and shorts. I was hoping not to have to change in front of the other guys, it would be inevitable now.

Gym went by uneventfully. We played some basketball, which I was terrible at. As class ended, I tried to hurry to the locker room to get changed for practice. However, it seemed that the majority of the team were usually released from their class ten minutes early. Most of them were already changed. I snuck into an empty bathroom stall to put on my jockstrap. I slipped into the rest of my gear, and when I headed back into locker room, the place was vacant. Maybe they were already down at the field.

So watching my steps this time I headed out to the field. It was empty there as well. I was ever so slightly concerned. There were some people getting set up on the track, I didn't outwardly recognize any of them. They looked a lot more like cross country runners more than football players.

It was half an hour of waiting by the field before I heard the coach yell down to me.

"Where the hell have you been? C'mon, it's Tuesday! We're in the weight training room. Get your ass up here."

I ran, maybe it was the adrenaline or fear of what the coach would do to me that made the gear feel like it weighed nothing.

"Wearing your dad's stuff, huh?" he said as I ran up to him.

"Yes, sir."

"Tuesdays and Thursdays, we hit the weights, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"See if someone in there will be your partner, okay? There's only about fifteen minutes left of practice. Get to work."

As I ran toward the weight room, he hit me in the rear with his clipboard. I yelped, more from the surprise than the bit of pain. I heard his deep booming laugh as I entered the weight room.

* * *

Everyone already had a lifting partner. I looked around. The only person left was Dennis, the weighty moose of a center lineman.

"Do any lifting yet there, small stuff?"

"No."

"Here, get on the bench. How much weight do you want on there?"

"I don't know."

"Hmm. We can start you off light then. You okay with just the bar?"

"How much does it weigh?"

"Twelve pounds, easy stuff."

I laid back and put my paws around the grips. It was surprisingly light.

"Well, ten reps, you have to lower it to your chest."

I probably could've sat there and done a hundred more.

"Too easy," he reached back and slid on some more weights. "How about this then kiddo?"

I did it ten times and it wasn't even a bit of a strain.

"Stronger than you look, that's good. Want more?"

I nodded.

"Good attitude kid." He reached around and put some more on there, "That should be about sixty-two pounds."

It felt almost no different than the first set of weights. I couldn't believe it. I put out the set with no effort.

"Great job, tired yet?"

"No."

"No? Well then, how about some more?" He stacked on more weight. "Give it a try. This is a hundred and two."

I could feel it this time, but it didn't feel like I had to stop there.

"You're amazing kiddo!" He looked up at the clock, "Well, go hit the shower, you smell like wet moose. I'll put the weights away."

Chapter 3

As I stepped out of the weight room, it was nearly ten after six. Oh, I was late. I hurried over toward the locker room and there was an Oldsmobile la baron waiting there, and Rusty and Lester were waiting there for me. They waved at me as they saw me approach.

"Don't have time to change, just slap on some deodorant." Rusty called out.

"Okay, let me grab my bag." I said as I jogged into the locker room.

Charging into the locker room, I saw a group of people huddled around a locker by mine. As I stepped in closer, I realized that it was my locker.

"You're reading shit like this, ya fag?"

One of the Juniors tossed the book that Mr. Price had asked me to sign. It was my mother's book, So I Married a Super Hero. I didn't know how to respond. There were a whole group of them. What do I do? I looked over just a little past them was Corey. He immediately broke eye contact.

"It's not mine. I'm just giving it to someone."

"Hey! Get your asses out of my locker room, it's a quarter past!" the coach yelled from his office.

"Pfft, whatever fag," the guy tossed the book over to me.

They pushed past Corey. Who had continued looking at me the entire time. He turned his attention to getting his backpack. I turned and grabbed my bag and threw the book back into it. I walked over to him, "Hey."

"Can we talk about this later? Like during the car ride?"

"Oh, well about that, I was going to hang out with some friends over--"

"Friends?"

"W-What's that supposed to mean?"

"I didn't mean it like that, I'm just--it's just, you know, it's just the second day of school. I don't even really ever see the guys we went to Middle school with. J-Just never mind. I'll see you tomorrow."

He slammed the locker, though even he seemed to be surprised by how hard it struck the frame.

* * *

The ride wasn't very long, then again Rusty drove a lot faster than my mom ever dared. I had swapped my jersey back for a sweater as the fall approached. The nights were getting longer and colder.

I had called my mother, but it went straight to voicemail. I left her a brief message that I was going out to play a game with some friends from school and that I would be home later.

My only assignment that night was another chapter of Hamlet. It was a cinch and knocked it out while I was in the car.

We arrived, and though I was highly tempted to walk into the Golden Age Comic Bookstore, I decided it would be best to stick with my group. I even knew that there were two books that I needed to pick up. The Spectrum Hawks and Turner's Mysteries. They could wait though. Maybe I can grab them after the game.

Rusty said that it was a "booster draft" which meant everyone started with new cards. Lester lent me the money to enter, and said I could keep the cards, unless there were some rare ones. I was fine with that. They explained to me the basics of playing, and over the course of the first hour, they were still teaching me. It was a pretty fun game, and I really enjoyed the artwork on most of the cards. They made me wonder what it would be like had some of these artist also did comic books. I didn't recognize any of the names.

With Rusty and Lester's help, I had finished fourth in the tournament. I had a lot of fun, the rules became really difficult really quickly, but otherwise seemed to get a fair gist of the game. We laughed and joked with the seven other guys who were there. The pizza was really greasy and we ate it between games.

It was eight by the time we were done with the tournament. Rusty had won, but it was a victory paved with humor and gut-wrenching laughter. We stepped out into the cool autumn night. It was then that I noticed that it was quite warm inside. The Golden Age comic shop was still open.

"Hey, guys mind if I make a quick stop in the comic shop?"

"Not at all, Rusty?" Lester answered and looked over his shoulder at Rusty who was talking to another kid who was leaving.

"Yea, no problem," Rusty called back and went back into deep conversation.

"Mind if I join you?" Lester asked.

Someone else interested in a hobby of mine? "Of course!"

"You do mind?"

"Ugh-huh? Oh, no, I mean. No, I don't mind."

Lester smiled.

I've been coming to Golden Age Comics since my father took me here nearly a decade ago. The owners have changed a few times since then, and it's been moved around a lot. The store otherwise remained the same.

"Hey Clayton," the goat behind the counter greeted me, "wasn't expecting you until the weekend."

"Hi Hector. I was in the area."

"A friend of yours?"

"Oh yea, this is Lester."

Lester waved. Lester and I walked around the store as I pointed out different books and he listened, mostly. I basically summarized a few books that he asked about as we walked around. He noted that stuff like this would be great for a role-playing game or two. We walked back up to the counter toward Hector.

"So you had two things on hold, and I put another one on hold for you."

"Really?"

He reached down behind the counter, and pulled up something that I thought I'd never see.

I gasped a little, "The Death of the Wolf from Mars?"

"Yea, this is the first of the arc. It's going to be a six book arc--well, finale."

* * *

I listened to Rusty and Lester talk most of the way back. I had a lot of thoughts reeling through my head. They're killing The Wolf from Mars. I mean, a lot of times, they kill off super heroes to bring back interest into the character. The Wolf from Mars had a pretty big following as it were. Why then would they kill him off? It just didn't make any sense.

"You okay back there?" Rusty asked from the driver's seat.

"Oh yea, just thinking."

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Huh?" I was still lost in thoughts, "Oh, yea sorry, it's just that, I think they're bringing my favorite comic to an end."

The comic was going to be celebrating its thirty year anniversary.

"The Wolf from Mars?" Rusty asked.

"What?" Lester knew about it, how did Rusty know? Maybe they had talked about that while I wasn't paying attention.

"They've been talking about doing it for a while." He said as his eyes were still on the road ahead.

"How did you know that?"

"A little thing called the 'internet'?"

"Oh, right," I felt a little ashamed, "I don't ever use it."

Lester laughed, "Maybe you really are the wolf from mars. You don't use the internet?"

"The only computer we have is my mom's laptop, and she uses that for her work."

"Oh," it suddenly became a little less funny.

"I'm going to see if we can get another computer though."

Rusty piped in, "I have an extra laptop, it's like three years old. I've been trying to get rid of it for like, a hundred or something?"

As we pulled in, it was closer to nine when I ran inside. Mother was still out of town, and there was nothing on the answer machine. It was pretty lonely without having her around, but I had a few comics that I wanted to read. One that I didn't want to read, but I would have to eventually.

I picked up the phone and dialed my mother.

"Hey honey. How was school today?"

"It was good, I made some friends and we played some card games at Games and Gizmos."

"That's nice dear. You're homework's done?"

"Yup. Well except-"

"Except?"

"Well, my teacher asked me if I could have you sign a copy of your book for him."

"Oh, that's no problem, well, except-"

"Except?"

"I'm going to be flying down to California and I'll be back on Sunday. Think you can tide yourself over? I left some money in the rainy day funds. I think there should be plenty of money in there."

"Mom?" I asked sweetly.

There was a pause on her end, "Yes, Clayton?"

"Can I get a computer?"

"I'm pretty sure, there's not enough in the rainy day funds for a new computer."

"If there is?"

"Well. I guess you could. I doubt there's enough in there but--I mean, as long as you have enough to eat with."

"Thanks mom!"

"See you soon dear. Don't use more than you need to."

Click.

My mother liked to throw money in a cookie jar next to the boxes of cereal. The rainy day funds were well into the hundreds. I guess she lost track of how much she had put in there over time. I picked out the largest bills, and I had three twenties, two tens and the rest in fives.

I was stoked. I gave my mother a second call, and told her that there was more than enough. We talked a little while about my assignments, and she asked me how I liked Hamlet. Though it was a mystery to both of us as to why an American Literature class would be teaching Hamlet. She was delighted to hear about switching into a higher level of math, telling me how much my father loved math as well.

"Okay darling, get to bed and get up on time, don't want you to be late for school. Your father was always late for homeroom."

Chapter 4

I was so excited when I woke up. The thought of getting my own computer was fantastic. I had played on Corey's computer's a few times, and he had a lot of games. I downed a bowl of cereal and pocketed the money for the laptop as I left the kitchen. I was early. Really early. I even beat Corey to the bus stop. He was usually there before me. I couldn't wait to tell him.

I saw him strolling down the road, and I waved excitedly toward him. Probably a little more than necessary.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked as he took off his backpack and sat down next to me.

"Oh, nothing." I decided maybe I should play it cool.

"Okay."

Silence. C'mon ask me. I waited. He was reading his assigned book from his English class, the Pearl.

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

"You keep looking at me."

"Sorry."

"Well?"

"Guess what I'm getting today."

"The new Wolf from Mars comic?"

"I already picked that up last night."

"Last night? It just came out."

"Yea, Hector got the shipment in last night."

"Where is it?"

"Oh," I had left it on my nightstand because I had yet to read it. "Sorry, I forgot, I got wrapped up in that I was buying a new computer."

"You're buying a what?" The lion-wolf looked up from his book.

"Well, it's a laptop, not a computer." I started speaking rapidly.

"Awesome! Where are you getting it from?"

"Well, it's not new-new, it's used, it belonged to one of my friends and he said I can buy it off of him."

"Oh, and you trust he's not going to sell you something broken?"

"Yes." I spoke before my brain could catch up. Wait, maybe. No. Rusty and Lester were good people. I had just met the two days ago. They were good to me, why shouldn't I trust them?

"Don't you think you're being a bit naive?"

"I--" I wasn't sure how I wanted to answer. There it was, a seed of doubt. But they weren't like that, they were friendly and helpful. They helped me play that game, and we were making plans to hang out together again in the future. "Why shouldn't I trust them?"

"I'm just saying. It seems odd that you just met them, and now you're all best friends and stuff."

"You're still my best friend."

"Yea?"

"Of course! I'll always be your friend!"

The bus pulled up, and we mostly rode in silence as he tried to get caught up with his reading assignment.

* * *

I showed up a bit early to Mr. Price's class to talk to him.

"You're early Clayton," he exclaimed. The skunk was going over the newspaper when I had walked in. "I might have thought you'd be one of those perpetually late students. What may I do for you?"

"I talked to my mom, and she's out of town until Sunday," I said, as I heard it leave my mouth it sounded more like an apology.

"No need to fret," his nose still buried in the newspaper. "I've already read it twice."

"Oh."

I could never keep track of which of my mother's works came out when. Most of them were biographies and she mostly assisted people with their memoirs. In fact, I mostly only knew that she wrote books, beyond that I didn't pay much attention.

He lowered his paper down, "So how much do you know about the Wolf from Mars?"

Was he kidding me? "I've been following it since I was a kid."

"You realize that he was more than just a comic book hero, he has a real life counterpart."

I had heard that somewhere else, "He has a lot of similarities with the Crimson Wolf."

"Crimson Wolf did a lot for the Greater Northwest up until his death a few years ago, so much so that they only now are covering him in your comics."

He must have already known about the Death of the Wolf from Mars.

"It's going to be an extremely valuable comic. I do hope you got it." He dropped his newspaper and the front page showed that it had already sold out. It was highly limited. "The article says that the whole 8 years of print are valued now at over a hundred each."

I had a small fortune in my bedroom.

"Anyhow, sit down. Class is about to begin."

I couldn't pay much attention through the rest of the class. I have every issue there is. My father even managed to snag a signature from the artists of the first issue and Crimson Wolf himself.

* * *

I was still reeling from the news through lunch. I had already forgotten that Rusty had brought his extra laptop.

"Hey pipsqueak!" Rusty clapped me on my shoulder, which startled me as though I were waking from a dream.

"You alright there?" Lester sat down opposite me at the table.

"Um, yea." I looked at the laptop that Rusty placed in front of me. "Oh!"

"Yup, everything's in working order. If anything's broken, I can fix it."

The laptop had several different band stickers on the cover, most of them I didn't recognize. It was a convenient size and would easily fit in my backpack. He turned it on and we played with it a little, he had left several games already installed on there. Which, I was tempted in playing, but decided that my schoolwork may suffer. Perhaps it could be one of those leisure things that were affordable on weekends.

"So did you read your comics?" Lester asked.

"All except one." I replied.

Rusty jumped in, "Putting it off huh?"

"Well, I just, I don't know." I didn't have any good reason to have not finished it last night. "I guess it's just hard to see it end."

"You don't think this is a gimmick?" Lester pondered, "After all, they do usually kill off a lot of characters and bring them back later."

Rusty answered that one, "Except that the Wolf from Mars was loosely based on a true story." He took a bite of his pizza, "And Crimson Wolf hasn't come back yet."

Lester nodded sagely, "I just don't think it's a great idea to kill off a cash cow."

I shrugged, "Maybe they'll bring him back in a few years if they haven't found any hero to take the lead. Bullet Kaiser has been steadily gaining a good fan base."

"Yea, I heard he might even star in a movie or series of movies," Rusty informed us.

Lester made a sour face as though he had bitten into an overly tart apple, "Bleh, super hero movies are lame. The super heroes' PR people never let them show them in any compromising stuff."

Rusty laughed a little, "There's always those leaked videos."

"Leaked videos?"

Lester and Rusty looked at each other, "Ugh," they said in sync.

"Maybe it's not really, our place to, ya know," Rusty scratched his head, "Ugh, corrupt you."

"Corrupt?" I looked over at Lester and he just seemed to blush.

They looked at each other back and forth, and then over to me, Lester spoke, "Well, I suppose we could tell you."

So over the rest of lunch they described that since the dispersion of camera technology to the masses, it's been easier for people to record their actions. Which also include slightly more carnal acts.

"So," Rusty scratched his head again, "You know, it was just a matter of time before they managed to find their way onto the internet."

"Heh," Lester laughed a little, "There's also Stalking Cat and Transponder."

"Who?" I asked.

"Well, you don't hear much about them, and several really powerful heroes are out to get Stalking Cat. You see, Stalking Cat can teleport and phase through walls. Ever since he stole the Shroud of Shadows, he's been on the hunt to capture heroes on film--"

Rusty piped in, "He purportedly has a snuff film with Frost Bear."

"Snuff?"

"It usually involves--", Lester gave Rusty a vicious glare.

"Never mind, it's not for you. So anyway, Transponder is his sidekick, or partner, or whatever, but Transponder has an ability that makes him like some sort of super hacker, and if it's connected to the internet, he can get in."

Rusty yawned a bit as he put his trash onto his tray to get ready to leave, "So they made it their quest to take down the glory of super heroes by showing that they're abusing their global status. Of course, all the super heroes deny that it was them, it could be anyone dressed like them."

I was intrigued.

* * *

It was my first day of calculus. I couldn't be more excited. I figured there was a lot to be learned. There wasn't. At least, not at the beginning. A lot of it was still some fairly straight forward algebra. Mr. Marshall gave me a copy of the syllabus and rules by which the class operates, and in letters that clearly took up the whole top half of the page, Do Not Cheat. It said that people cheating will be caught, and if you are caught, the test is thrown out without chance to make up said test. There was no extra credit either, "so don't ask."

The other students had picked their seats on the first day, and there were three chairs left. One in front of Lars, the Quarterback, and on either side of him. I couldn't figure out why that was. I decided I'd sit on his right.

Of course, I found out with the pop-quiz before the end of class.

"What did you get for number two?"

Was he kidding? It was all simple algebra. Then when he tapped his pencil across my forearm.

"Let me see what you got for number two."

I looked back behind me. Mr. Marshall was looking out the window at the dark clouds rolling in from the west. It couldn't hurt to help Lars out. After all, he was a Senior in a Junior level class. I think he might have been held back. Maybe it might help my standing with the team.

I moved my arm a bit and turned the paper. He took a gander at my page and put down the answer.

"Hey," I whispered, "You need to show the work."

He looked down at his piece of paper. He studied my page for a little while longer and scribbled something down on his paper. I didn't see if it was even the right work.

"What about number three?"

I sighed.

Fortunately for me, nobody said anything, and Mr. Marshall was hard of hearing. Lars got a nine out of ten on his pop quiz. This astounded Mr. Marshall. Who's only comment was, "If I could read the work that you did to figure this out, you might be in trouble Mr. Lars."

As we left the class and I headed down the hallway toward Gym class Lars jogged up to me.

"Thanks for the help," he gave me a light punch to the arm, "Mr. Marshall has it out for me. He's held me back in his class because I told people I was involved in a three some with his wife."

"You--"

"No, I wasn't actually screwing his wife, but how was I supposed to know she was going to run off with this car salesman?"

He laughed; it was a really infectious laugh. I giggled a little.

"Hey, didn't you just join the team?"

"Yea."

"Coolbeans," he gave me a big toothy smile, "See you at practice." He gave me a pat on shoulder and walked off in the other direction. "Jase! Check it out! I passed one of Mr. Marshall's pop quizzes!"

Chapter 5

Practice was wet, very wet. Though it was typical of this area, I usually wasn't in the midst of it. I took it in stride. It didn't seem to wear down on me any. I felt a lot more agile even. It was strange because even though the other kids had spent their summers at Football camp, I was able to keep up with most of them. I think the activity was really helping me out. We finished early because the coach didn't want us to catch pneumonia. I felt great though.

I had come to the realization that I needed a lock for my locker at gym. It was fine through class because the coach was in his office during my gym class. He generally wasn't there when we were doing our practice.

My backpack was gone.

It had my laptop in it.

I was devastated.

"Hey what's up?" Lars walked in from behind me. "You alright?"

"No." I wasn't sure if I was going to cry, I fought it down, but I could feel it coming up.

"What's the matter?"

"My bag's gone."

"Shit." He jumped up on the bench and yelled out, "Hey, whoever took the bag out of the locker over here needs to bring it back, right fucking now."

I was shocked. What's even more shocking was that the two who took it, that was rifling through my bag yesterday dared to show their faces in front of Lars. They were both sophomores, and Lars gave them a look that told them to never bother me again.

"Check to make sure they didn't take anything out of there," Lars said as he towered over the two.

I did a quick inventory, and it looked like the saw the laptop and decided to take the bag, everything was still there.

"I think so," I told Lars.

"If you find anything missing, let me know. I can resolve that matter." Lars gave one of them a shove into the opposing lockers. Lars put a friendly paw on my shoulder and walked away.

The two looked at me, and once Lars was out of sight they started their approach toward me.

"Hey little buddy, how's it going?" It was Dennis' voice. The big center lineman walked up seemingly out of big moosey air.

The two bullies took a step back.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

"I think these two were just leaving."

They left without a single word.

I felt protected. I felt safe. I couldn't even fathom why. Something like a light switch seemed to have struck and it seemed to be easier and easier to make friends. In later days I would find out why it was, but it would remain a mystery until that day.

* * *

The ride home was quiet. Corey kept looking over at me with something to say, but he kept it to himself. I was still slightly traumatized by the fact that someone would do such a thing to a stranger. I guess the opportunity opened itself up because I didn't safeguard my belongings, but never in a million years would I ever have considered taking from someone.

It made me sad.

Rusty had left me a note with the computer and his phone number in case I had any questions. The note provided informed me that I should let it charge for a little while before I play with it. So I rushed to my room and put it in my desk, there was a spot to plug it in next to the lamp. I didn't know where to begin looking for a power strip. I plugged it in and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

As I changed out of my gear, I noticed that my chest and shoulders seemed to have grown over the past few days. The whole working out regiment was paying off, and really quickly too. Perhaps it's just because I didn't have much fat on me, and it just makes it easier to show through. Maybe I wouldn't be the skinniest wolf around these parts anymore. I flexed for myself. Then I felt embarrassed that I had probably spent about five minutes staring at myself in the mirror wearing nothing but the jockstrap.

I put the clothes into the laundry hamper and took a hot shower. It felt amazing, something about the heat made me feel better all over.

After my shower, I ran the laundry and made some sandwiches for myself. I couldn't wait until I got to start playing on my new computer. What's the first thing that I was going to do? The thought of playing games sounded entirely too enticing. I pushed it out of my head. Oh! I could do some research on my current event report for Mr. Price's class. I felt a bit too nerdy, because that wasn't due until Monday. However, all the other kids were pulling up articles from the internet instead of reading newspapers. I suppose it was a lot easier that way.

The computer popped up and the navigation was similar to that of Corey's computer so I didn't find it too difficult to use. I typed in "superhero headlines" into the search and it brought for a large number of articles. There were a lot of articles on the "Associated Press Feed" and I had recalled my mother mentioning that the Associated Press was a very straight forward news syndicate. So I clicked on some of the headlines.

There was a lot of news going on. It seemed that the League of Defenders had opened their gates and looking for new recruits. It reminded me that over the summer, the League of Defenders had a skirmish with Oblivinite, they had three casualties. They weren't the big name heroes like The Crown, Steelpaw, or Blackhoof. They were in an alternate dimension saving the citizens of that universe. Though, mother said that they always tell the press they're out of town when the real threats arise. She felt it was far too convenient for them to be in another dimension at the time. They could have turned around to help this one that we lived in.

Mother was overly critical of the League of Defenders. I guessed that she had done a few articles, journals and biographies of their lesser members. She told me that it wasn't a pretty picture, but to me, nothing seemed quite as grand. Their command center was a small city in low orbit around the Earth. I mean, all the pictures of it, and even some of the pictures of the courtyard on it are amazing. The few pictures of the interior hallways that the League of Defenders put on their webpage were fantastic.

So far, Hammeryote and the War Gryphon have applied, and as I read the article, it would seem that it was over a decade since the League of Defenders brought anyone into their numbers. Ever since one of their most powerful heroes had fallen, Crimson Wolf. As I started writing my report, I realized I probably needed the names of the fallen for reference. Hey, there's a history button.

* * *

The history all looked like gibberish, letters of all sorts, nothing really spelled out the first article that had the names on it.

I clicked back as far as it would go, and I realized that this was not Associate Press Feed at all. There was a picture of a fox on his knees, looking back and tail in the air, his genitals and tailhole showed in its full glory. I could feel my pulse in my ears, and suddenly, I could feel my own bits swell.

There was a huge gallery below the image, and more pictures of the same fox.

I'd never seen anything this lewd, but at the same time, I was incredibly aroused. I went to each picture and my eyes devoured everything there was to see. He posed in all sorts of positions and the series eventually lead to him grabbing his own massive dick and bringing himself to climax, his spunk coating the fur on his chest. I reached down and even before my paw was close; it was as though my prick sensed my intentions and without hesitation let loose its reserve of juices onto the floor under my desk.

I found my towel and quickly cleaned it up. As I put the towel in the hamper, my bed looked ever so inviting.

It was only half past eight, but I decided with my homework all complete, sleep wouldn't be a terrible thing.

I was visited by the fox in my dreams, and he let me watch him as he posed. We were alone, so he posed just for me. His body seemed to be a lot smaller than mine in the dream. I woke up in the middle of the night, it was entirely too stiflingly hot in my room, but I had to release the pressure building itself into a critical mass behind my balls. As soon as I was done, I was back in a deep slumber.

Chapter 6

I woke up to a brand new Thursday. I was slightly concerned because I was up before my alarm clock, usually the snooze button sees activity thrice or more times before I'm actually out of bed. It was still dark out, but I felt like I had seen a full night of sleep. As I looked at my clock, it was an hour earlier than what I'm used to.

It would've felt strange to have gone back to bed. There could be things that I could do. I took my stuff out of the hamper and ran it down to the laundry room. I took another shower, and it made me feel even more elated than I was before. I felt good, and I couldn't figure out why. Who was I to question it though?

I changed into my school clothes and grabbed my laptop and sat in the laundry room and waited for the spin cycle to finish. My mind deviated into thinking about the fox from the prior night. I wanted to see what else was there, but I decided against it, and in favor decided that I would do some research into the Wolf from Mars series. Maybe I could get a glimpse of why they were doing it. As soon as I hit enter, I regretted it, there were well into the millions of pages of websites regarding the Wolf from Mars comics. I wouldn't even know where to begin. The washer let me know it was done with its load, and I pulled out the clothes and dropped it into the dryer.

I had quite a bit of time before the bus arrived, but I decided that I'd make use of it. I had had breakfast while I waited for the laundry to dry. As soon as it was done, I figured that I would wander out toward the bus stop and take time to smell the roses, or so they say.

There was a knock on my door. Funny, it sounded like the way Corey used to knock on my door over the summer when he didn't go to football camp. I went over to the door, and opened it up. It was Corey. I was somewhat surprised. He usually just waited at the bus stop.

"Oh, I didn't expect you to be up." He said surprised.

"I didn't either."

"I was thinking about climbing up the tree by your room, but it didn't look all that safe for me anymore." It was true, Corey had put on some mass the last two summers, but it really looked good on him. He was trying out for a lineman position. With his mane still growing in, he looked a lot older than most of the freshman.

He looked at me curiously, "So, can I come in?"

"Yea sure!" Duh, I kicked myself for my hesitation to let him in my house. As we crossed the threshold I asked him why he was here.

"I saw your light on, and I figured you might have been awake. I just, wanted to tell you that my mom's taking us to visit grandpa this afternoon and that I won't be going to practice."

"Okay, I think I can take the bus back."

"Well, I don't think there's a bus that runs that late afterschool."

"Oh, I think you're right," I thought for a moment, "Perhaps, I'll just skip practice as well."

"Weight training day, you were doing really well there with Dennis."

He had a point, but the logistics didn't really work. "Well, it's still the beginning of the season, I'm sure I can go a day without it."

"I guess that's true," there was an awkward silence. "So, ugh, how's the new laptop?"

"Great." Images of the fox popped up in my head and it gave me a little wood. I didn't think Corey could notice. I on the other paw couldn't help but keep thinking back to it.

He looked at his watch, "Cool, you'll have to show me it sometime. You all set to head out?"

"Sure, let me grab my backpack."

I ran quickly up the stairs, and I seemed to have nearly bounded four steps at a time.

* * *

The day seemed to start off rather well. Corey and I talked about homework. About how classes were going. We talked about the books we were reading in literature, and he seemed to pay particular attention to my math class.

I was on the ball that morning. My American Literature class went by surprisingly well. I seemed to have been able to understand the story in a stronger light than I had before. It seemed to come to me faster as the class went by. The characters and the motives became clear, and it broke away from just words on a page. I was beginning to immerse myself in the Shakespearean world.

Lunch with Rusty and Lester went on as usual, though, in the back of my mind, I could not imagine Rusty looking at stuff like that on his laptop. Maybe he had lent it to a sister of his?

I asked Lester while Rusty was busying himself in a deep conversation about a topic on movies.

"So does Rusty have any siblings?"

"No, why do you ask?"

He just had to ask why I was curious. I'd rather that he didn't. I didn't rehearse what my answer should be if he asked why. I tried to play it cool, "Just, ya know, I'm an only child and so is my best friend. We've sort of always been like, brothers. I just think that you two might be like that."

"I've got like six brothers. I'm right in the middle of them all."

I silently cheered as I derailed the fact that I was thinking about Rusty with his pants around his ankles, staring at his laptop and the lewd fox with the massive erection. I listened, and every now and again Rusty would jump into the conversation to correct Lester on the facts of Lester's family life. They argued back and forth now and again.

As we packed up from lunch, Rusty approached me and asked me if the laptop was doing well.

"It's working just fine," I replied as we walked out of the lunch hall together. "Couldn't be better."

"Good to hear, you have everything you need installed?"

"I think so."

"Well, let me know if there's anything that you need help with."

"I could use some help typing up a report, what do I use?"

"Oh, I could show you," his thought broke away, "Oh, right you have football practice today."

"I don't today. Long story short, my usual ride home after football practice isn't going to be driving me, and I was just going to take the bus home earlier today."

"You know, I could even give you a lift."

It all worked out. As the heavy-set cougar walked toward his next class, I couldn't help but wonder if there was something else going on underneath, an ulterior motive. Perhaps, even I had my own.

Math class went by unexpectedly, Mr. Marshall wasn't there. The substitute instead provided us with Mr. Marshall's notes and we would be had the entire class to finish the assignment. She didn't seem to mind whether or not we spoke in class. So as we opened our books, Lars scooted closer.

"Thanks so much for helping me out yesterday."

He smiled, "Thanks to you too."

We worked on the assignment, and I helped him understand derivatives and delta. By the end of class, Lars seemed a lot better off, or at least more confident in doing his own work. While we worked, he talked about the upcoming game next week.

"It's an away game, but you guys probably will just be on the sideline while the game goes on," he admitted to me.

"I'm okay with it." Though, I had other reasons to be part of the football team. It was something that Corey was interested in, and I wanted us to be friends and hang out together more often. Though, that probably would've sounded stupid to Lars. I was still okay with not being pulverized into the ground.

"If you're good, coach will put you in." Lars thought about it for a moment, "No, he'll settle for half-way decent."

"But, how will he know?" I asked, since I wouldn't be playing in the next game anyway.

"Tomorrow, we're going to split everyone into two teams and play against each other. I'll see if I can't get you into my team."

I was stoked at the idea that I wouldn't be picked last, "I would love to."

"Settled then. What's the answer to this one? I got forty-two."

I looked at his paper, "Yea, that's right," checking his work, he seemed to catch on very quickly. I tested to see if I could joke around with him, "You're not as stupid as you look."

He laughed a bit and smiled at me.

* * *

I met Rusty outside of the gymnasium after I had just changed. It was basketball day, which my stature didn't help, on top of my lousy aim.

"Looking good in your little shorts there wolfy-boy." the cougar laughed.

"Hey Rusty," I couldn't help but wonder whether he was joking or if there was intent behind his words. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I just have a Computer Lab class. I know more than the teacher there, and he owes me big for helping him out all the time, so I show up whenever I feel like it."

"So you have a free period then?"

"Yea, you can call it that. Since, the class before that is my actual free period."

"That's pretty cool." I keep forgetting that Rusty is a senior which afforded him some of the nicer, non-core classes. A computer class would help me a whole lot. There was a lot to learn, but if Rusty knew more than the teacher than that would mean I could learn more from Rusty than I ever could from that class.

"So you want me to pick you up from here? Or do you want to meet me at the East Parking lot?"

"I can meet you there, that's no problem."

"Still remember which car is mine, kiddo?"

"Yea."

I noticed the rest of my class was already starting to play some games of basketball.

"I better hurry back to my class."

"Seeya after class," the cougar walked away and waved back at me as he left.

I played a three on three with a cheetah and elk on my team. We played against a tiger, bear and a really tall mouse. We lost, but not by much. The cheetah did most of the work, the elk made a great defense as he was an insurmountable wall. I was utterly useless. I managed to pass the ball back to the cheetah when he needed. I somehow managed to be in all the right places when he was stuck and needed to pass it off to someone though. They probably knew I was lousy and didn't bother covering me, focusing more on the cheetah. Everyone was playing pretty hard, but I didn't feel strained at all. I suppose I wasn't putting as much effort into it as they had. All my shots were off, so I decided instead of risking losing the ball to the other team, that it would've just been best to leave it up to the better players.

The cheetah shook my paw, "That wasn't a bad game you know."

"I'm sorry I wasn't of any help."

"Hey, don't worry about it. Sometimes it's a lot more helpful to get the ball in the right paws. That's just as important as shooting it yourself," he seemed to have heard himself, "Not that I'm a glory hound or anything, glory cat? Anyhow, it was still a pretty fun game, and that bear might just collapse from exhaustion. You ran circles around most of them.

"Well, check ya later," the cheetah walked to the locker room.

I looked at the clock, and realized I didn't have all that much time until the end of the school day, so I hurried to the locker room without running anyone down along the way. I had borrowed a lock from coach after yesterday, and I put the combination in. While most of the other kids were still learning their combinations, I was capable to recall the numbers and dialed it in with speed.

I grabbed my backpack and hurried out of the locker room.

* * *

The East Parking lot was just for Seniors, it was the closest parking lot on the campus. Of course they were also all paid for by the students. If they had wanted a free parking lot, it would have been the North Lot, which was a ways away. Not as helpful if you were rushing to school a little behind on your time, or trying to beat everyone else to the nicer spots. It was a free for all at the North and West Lots. East and South were assigned parking.

Rusty's car was in the first ten spots. He was sitting in the driver's seat looking intently at something in the passenger seat. As I approached, I noticed that he was typing into his laptop. Perhaps there might have been a fox on his screen.

"Hey kiddo," he said, his eyes lifted up from his laptop as he continued to type. "I see you're still in your lovely little gym shorts."

"Yea, didn't get much opportunity to change."

"That's alright, here, hop in." He reached over and opened the door from the inside. The cougar grabbed his laptop and shut the lid, gently placing it back in its bag and gently tossing it into the back seat. I wouldn't find out what was on that screen.

"Wow, how many laptops do you have?"

"There's this one, and the one you have now, and that's it." I took a seat, tucking my tail in the cut-away part of the seat. He started the car and we went about our way.

"What were you doing on it?" I asked, curious as to how he'd answer.

"Ah, I've been aspiring to become a novelist, ever since my freshman year. I just--it's just every other day, I start writing something, and then I have to edit and edit and edit it until it becomes a whole different story. Then I hate what I've written. So I start again."

"Wow. You know that my mother's a writer."

"Really?"

"Yea, she's written a whole lot since she quit working at the Seattle Times."

"Journalist?"

"She's branched out since. She has a few biographies, and a few true crime novels. Mostly non-fiction."

"That's amazing. Is she at your house?"

"She's in Los Angeles."

"Really now?"

"Something for work, I'm sure."

"What about your dad?"

"My father disappeared years ago, nobody's heard of him since. Mom says he's dead but I just--sorry, didn't mean to get into something you didn't want to hear."

"No that's okay. So no family at your house? Brothers or sisters?"

"Nope."

"I thought you might have been an only child."

"How could you tell?"

"Only children seem to fit into certain mindsets, and I can recognize someone else who's an only child."

"What kind of mindset?"

"Well, you seem to be especially, how can I put this nicely? Naive."

"Oh."

"Aw, don't take it as a negative thing, just it's cute. Innocent. Yea, I'd say you're innocent. If you had brothers or sisters, they sort of teach you about what their minds are like, and you get to understand that people can use you for different things."

"Really?"

"There's also a few other things typical of only children," he started, "They can be rather selfish with the incapacity to share, but it seems that they are just more likely to fall into this as they are to over compensate for it and share more than they have to. I guess people with siblings typically have a better balance of what and when to share.

"It all depends on the person too," he sighed, "trying to guess the motives of people and being one step ahead can be difficult."

He pulled up into the drive way and he parked next to my mother's car.

* * *

I set down my backpack in the kitchen and walked over to the fridge, "Can I get you anything?"

"Mountain Dew?"

"Ugh, sorry, mom doesn't stock any sodas. Sorry."

"Naw," he grabbed his stomach, "I've probably had too much of it in my lifetime."

"Can I interest you in some juice?"

"Juice would be fine."

We settled for some orange juice, and I plopped the laptop on the island counter in the kitchen. He opened it up and started to show me the word processing programs that were on there. He taught me about instant messenger programs and other communication programs.

"So we need to set you up a handle."

"A handle?"

"Yea, just something to go by when you're online. You don't want to use your real name, because anonymity is better. Think of it as a superhero persona."

"Oh." I thought for a minute, and I drew nothing but blanks. "I've probably asked myself a million times what I would be if I were a super hero, what powers, even what names, and it always changes."

"I know the very feeling."

"I guess so, like that novel of yours."

We paused from our conversation briefly, and he brought it back around, "So you had no troubles getting onto the internet?"

"Not at all, it just said it found a wireless internet connection."

"So your mom's more tech-savvy than you?" He laughed.

"Yea. She works with a lot of technology."

He booted up an internet browser. He started to type in something in the address bar, when he started to look a little nervous. "Oh, wow, I guess I forgot to wipe out some stuff when I gave you the computer."

Hmm, we were in a peculiar predicament. I could point out that I had seen what was on that history page and--

"Well the date on this says this was looked at last night," he raised an eyebrow.

Now it'd be ever more difficult to find a resolution for this matter. What do I say? How exactly do I say that yes, I saw what he had been looking at, and not mention that it turned me on and sparked a curious fire inside of me. How do I say let him know that I'm not a fag and that it's okay if he is. Is there a way to make that not sound rude? My mind was going a hundred miles per hour in a million directions. What had come from my lips wasn't what I was expecting at all.

It was a kiss. With his paw around the base of my skull he drew me into a kiss. All the parts of my mind dissolved and I was enthralled in that very moment and lost within the simple act. It felt great. I couldn't even explain to myself what had exactly happened. My eyes had closed to focus my sense of touch, and when I had opened them, he simply looked me in the eyes.

He smiled and chuckled to himself.

'What was all that about? Why did you kiss me?' is what I probably would've said, but what had come out was but a few stammers of "Wha?"

The cougar smiled some more. He leaned in and gave me another small peck. "Did you like that?"

My heart was racing; I didn't know what to do. It felt good that somebody wanted to be intimate with me. No, it felt damn good. There was something inside of me that wanted even more than that. I lean in and we kissed again, this time more, our jaws moved to help reciprocate the kisses. I felt his paws go down to my hips and it sent shivers in all directions along my spine.

I felt him angle his head forward and I found his tongue as it entered my maw. It felt so strange and yet it felt so right. I greeted it timidly with my tongue, but it caused him to push a little harder against mine. I could feel my pulse all over, especially as it pressed tightly against the jock strap that I hadn't changed out of. I could feel as his put some digits into the waistline of my gym shorts and slowly work them down. It was a multi-tasking that my body couldn't comprehend. I could barely focus on the foreign tongue in my mouth nearly forcing my own tongue down my throat.

He pulled his kiss away and I felt his hot breath along my cheek as he moved his muzzle along my neck. The combination between the heat of his maw and the tender nibbles of his teeth I nearly lost control of my body. He held me up against his own body.

The cougar was a lot bigger than me, not so much taller, stockier and thicker than me. He felt great to press up against. I felt my ball lubricate themselves with my pre-cum. My desire spilling forth between us. The kitchen air slapped my ass as my gym shorts fell down to my ankles.

"Nice jock, kiddo."

"They were my dad's," I didn't know what compelled me to say it, but it happened. At this point, I had little control over my body. Lust had taken a hold of me. I was being swept away at the whim of my lust and Rusty's desire. Where it would take me, I didn't know exactly, but I had a feeling that it would be good.

His body pressed my back up against the countertop, and I felt him press gently on my shoulders with both paws. He moved his deft paws along my sides and it tickled quite a bit. As they reached past my hips, he grabbed tightly against the back of my thighs. He quickly heaved me up onto the counter, and as his paws swiftly swept up behind my knees, I found myself on my back on the surface.

I was breathing heavy, and it suddenly stopped as something hot and slick ran up my tailhole. My tail swung around, but he quickly grabbed it and pushed it aside with one paw. I felt his breathe hot and humid against my asshole as he proceeded to lick at it. I tensed up and nearly felt myself climax with every flick of his tongue. My mind was swimming in a sea of signals my body was feeding up toward my head. A small cry from the back of my head told me that I wasn't breathing. I gasped and took in a lung-full of air.

My erection fought against the jockstrap, trying to emerge victorious from its clutch. But the supporter held tight against me, that extra room that was once there quickly vanished as my body grew hot from carnal desire. He continued to lap at my exposed orifice and I nearly convulsed every time he tried to open me up with his tongue alone. I wanted to let him in, let him gain access to my insides, but my body refused. My body had no idea what was going on.

I was lost in my own thoughts, how long had I been at this edge between me and orgasm?

He stood and led over to kiss me again. I climbed back down off the countertop and I watched as he raised his shirt above his head and bared his chest. His pecs were still cut solid above his belly. Perhaps he had worked out at some point. His chest was like a barrel, both massive and strong. He was quite handsome. My brain worked in small spurts like the pre dribbling from my cock.

I couldn't have felt more drawn to him at that point. He started to remove his pants and I couldn't help but feel compelled to get down on my knees. I came to the conclusion that I really wanted to see what he had packed away in his pants, and I wanted to be near his manhood. As he dropped his pants, I noticed he wasn't wearing any underwear. He had a prick much bigger than mine, or even the fox from the prior night. On the tip of it was a steel ring that pierced the hole and between his glans. The tip had a clear drop of liquid.

"Go ahead," he urged as he saw my interest in his prick. "Just lick it a little."

I licked the clear liquid off tip, it tasted a bit salty but heavily laced with a musk. It was intoxicating. He placed a paw on the back of my head, and he drew me closer to his prick, I could feel the heat that was coming off of it. He brought it closer to my maw, and holding my tongue out, the underside of it slid across it until it was in my mouth.

He arched his back and pushed his manhood further into my mouth. It tasted of him, musty and manly. I inhaled his fragrance. It seemed to arouse me even more.

"That's good, very good," he breathed out heavily. He placed both paws on the side of my skull, and slowly drove the hot tube of flesh into mouth. He rocked his hips back and forth with a relaxed passionate rhythm. My lips formed a seal and tried to suck what I could as he pulled out slowly. I couldn't tell how long we had been doing it, time seemed irrelevant.

Rusty had pulled me back to my feet, and we kissed and we kissed some more, each kiss subtly more passionate than the prior. We made our way up to my room, the remaining articles of clothing committed to the stairs somewhere. As he laid me back down upon my bed, I felt a bit drunk on the whole ordeal, the passion, the lust, the excitement of new things. I didn't want it to end. It felt great, somebody wanted me for who I was; mind, body, and whatever else.

As he kissed me slowly, I could feel his paws as he drew my legs into the air. He spit onto his palm, and I watched as his rubbed it along his cock. He leaned in and I could feel it butt up against my tailhole, he wiggled his member up and down the sensitive area around the orifice before he plunged the head of it in.

I couldn't quite describe the sensation. It was sharp at first, and my body didn't want it in there. I could feel myself tighten down against the intrusion, I started to try to squirm away but he held me tight.

"Just breathe," I heard him say as he exhaled. I did as he said. I could feel myself relax a bit. "That's good." He leaned down, tucking my knees closer to my chest and kissed and nibbled along my neck and I felt the mass of his weight bear down on me. It was counter to what I thought it would've felt like. I thought he might have crushed me under his weight, but it felt like a comforting pressure pressed down on my body. As I started to relax, and he pulled out gently. The change was drastic, I felt a little emptier. I couldn't help but grit my teeth as he put it back in, deeper this time. Under his weight, I couldn't even wiggle free. I had no leverage to break out. Deep down, I didn't want to take control back.

He laid on top of me, his gut was firm against my junk. With every push into me, I could feel his tummy stroke my dick. He thrusted slowly and steadily. Each time, it felt better and better. My breathing became more and more erratic as he continued to push his meaty cock into my ass. He started pick up his pace, but I was already over the edge. I writhed against his strong body, feeling the slippery wetness that grew between us as my spunk let loose between our stomachs.

He started pounding harder until he reached the apex and I could feel how slick my insides had become as he continued to pump his load into me. His rhythm was broken. His breathing was erratic. He continued to push his hardened prick inside of me, but it felt good. I was elated as my orgasm swept through me. My senses returned. I could smell the sweat from love-making. I could feel the heat radiating around me and from inside. This must have been what they called afterglow. It felt wonderful.