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It was two in the morning, and Lucien had planned to be sleeping roughly three hours ago. He was not even doing anything interesting. He was not writing a last minute report, nor was he finishing a good book, or a difficult video game. He was crying. He did not know, exactly, why he was crying. He suspected it had something to do with the start of school tomorrow. It was not that he had no friends. He had Thanatos, Alisa, and Lexi with whom he could talk about anything, but he had so many enemies at that place. He was jealous of Thanatos, in that he never seemed to gain any enmity from anyone. He was sick of it, this was his second year of high school, and he had collected so many broken teeth from his conquests, that he was contemplating making a necklace.

He rolled over again, hugging the black Victorian patterns of his pillow, which he was pretending was his lover this night, close to his chest. He wiped the tears from his eyes again, and rolled over, hoping for any sleep, be it a fitful sleep filled with tears, or a calm blackout. He did not care, but he wished for anything but this. Lucien stretched out once more, and tried to calm his tears. At three A.M. he finally managed to go to sleep.

Lucien’s computer, which served as his alarm clock, blared a discordant symphony singing doom to whomever cared to listen. He shut it off as quickly as he could get up and turn off his speakers, grabbing a hold of his bookshelf to steady himself while the big black splotches and static swirled in and out of vision. He managed not to blackout, and hurried off to shower. He stood under the hot jet, lathering himself with shampoo for long-haired cats (â€Specially formulated to make you look and feel beautiful!†Lucien could vouch that it did not, in fact, make him feel beautiful).

He scrubbed his arms, thin and solid with trim muscle, covered in white, almost translucent fur. He worked his way up to his face, closing his green, glittering eyes to keep the soap out. He kneaded the lilac and vanilla scented gel into his long, black hair, scrubbing down to the middle of his back, where his hair stopped. After all of his cleaning was done, he conditioned heavily, having not done so for a few days. A few minutes later, he stepped out of the shower, dripping wet and looking very much like the wet cat he was.

Lucien was a half-breed, which is partially what led to the animosity people felt toward him. He was half domestic cat, half ferret. He was afflicted with Leucism, an absence of pigment on his entire body, except his eyes. It was a result of improper genetic mixing, he was told by doctors. He was a miracle even to have been born, really. For that matter, so was his older brother, who turned out much more normally than Lucien himself did.

He was dried off thoroughly, so he strode off to make himself a bit of breakfast. It was uneventful. He got back to his room as the sun came up. He dressed in a standard long sleeved mesh shirt, black, oh so tight T-shirt, and tight black cargoes. Another point of animosity, Lucien dressed inconspicuously, but still offensively goth. He brushed his teeth, and brushed his hair quickly, before grabbing his backpack and leaving for the bus stop.

The beginning assembly was terrible. The principal did not exactly say that long-haired boys were offensive, but the look shot between Thanatos and himself was enough to confirm his suspicions. After this, Lucien drifted in and out. It seemed there would be a crackdown on substance abuse in the school. Fantastic, Lucien thought, I was just wondering when I would get a used syringe stuck in my shoe.

The day officially began after the principal dismissed the school with an ‘inspirational’ congratulations on making it to another year. Lucien walked to his homeroom class, completely dead inside already, having picked his first paper ‘fag!’ sign off of his back. He was taking advanced mathematics, for his first class of the day. He saw all of the usual people in his class, with the addition of a new face. He was wearing lots of black, though Lucien could not be sure if his monochromia was a simple coincidence, or an indication of something.

This new boy was a raccoon. He looked rather thin, and appeared to be rather tall. It was hard to tell, but Lucien was immediately attracted to him. He never considered himself to be immediately attracted to boys, but he certainly could get into it, if he found someone he liked. Lucien took a seat in the back of the room, next to him. He turned subtly to look at him, and introduced himself.

â€Hi, I’m Lucien.â€

â€Hm?†The boy intoned, looking away from eternity. â€Oh, hi. I’m Tommen.â€

â€You’re new here, right? I could show you around. It’s a pretty big place, since it services, like, three districts.†He offered, blushing in his cheeks, which, thanks to his thick, long fur, was hidden.

â€Um, thanks. I barely made it here, to be honest. Well, I think I made it here. This is the advanced math class, right?†Tommen asked. Lucien nodded affirmatively, holding up his pencil and calculator. The display of mathematics utensils was ordinarily not something flattering, but Lucien managed to make it cute.

Lucien was floundering to keep something akin to a conversation going. He wanted to say something, but he was completely tongue-tied. â€Are you taking all advanced classes?†He asked curiously, with a hint of sweetness that he could not stop from creeping into his voice.

â€Um, no. I’m just in the advanced math. I’m average at best at every other subject.â€

â€Heh, yeah. I’m just in here too. I kind of obsessively solve equations. Apparently it’s ‘unique’, but I don’t find it flattering.†Lucien joked, looking away for being an idiot, again. Tommen did not reply for a while, and Lucien felt his ears burning hot. Lucien hoped that he had not noticed this, and found himself unduly glad when class began with roll call. Unfortunately, Lucien forgot that classes today would be occupied solely by assigning books.

The hour went by painfully slowly, everyone was talking, except Tommen and Lucien. For going by so slowly, it went by in a blur. The only thing he noticed, was that Tommen handed Lucien a book, saying their numbers were concurrent, and that the teacher just gave him both books. Lucien squeaked a quiet thanks, and turned away again, trying to think of how to repair the damage done by his idiocy.

As the bell rang at the end of class, Lucien escaped as quickly as possible. He was trying to make his way through the tight-packed hallway, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He suspected it was someone messing with him again, but when he turned he saw Tommen standing behind him, with a confused look on his face.

â€Oh, I’m â€" I’m sorry. I forgot. I’m kind of frazzled this morning.â€

â€That’s fine. Just would have sucked to be wandering around here for hours. ‘What are you doing skipping class?’, ‘Well, sir, to skip a class, you have to have a definite intent. I just want to find my class, and we’ll talk about skipping it a few months from now.’â€

Lucien giggled in genuine good humor, glad that he had found a friend with whom he shared at least one class. â€That would certainly be interesting. I suppose you should show me your schedule, so I can point you in the right direction.†Lucien took the slip of paper, and looked it over with eyes suddenly shining. â€It looks like all of our classes are the same. Well, I think. What elective are you taking this year?â€

â€I haven’t chosen one yet.†Tommen said, for some reason bashful.

â€You should join the strings band. You look like a cellist.â€

â€I do?†Tommen asked stupidly, â€Why do you say that? Are you taking it?â€

â€Yes,†Lucien mewled proudly. â€I am a violinist. I was concertmaster last year. Anyway,†Lucien said, blush low on his cheeks, â€I think we need to get to our Literature class, now.â€

â€Oh, yeah.†Tommen agreed, a blush low on his cheeks, also. As they walked the long way to class, Tommen said, remembering that he had not answered Lucien earlier: â€I don’t, um, play the cello.â€

â€Damn,†Lucien said comically, â€I love cellists.†He bit his lip hard after he said that, and tried to look away casually. I was hoping Tommen was a cellist, and then boldly proclaim my love for them? How stupid, he thought.

There was a long pause, which made Lucien’s heart practically fall out. â€I can see why you would…â€, Tommen replied finally, breaking the spell. â€Cellists obviously have to have nice, long fingers. And I bet the dexterity they get from playing would be fantastic.†He joked. Lucien smiled and let out a short coo of his humor, but that was it. Soon after this, they reached the classroom, and quickly dove for their seats right before the bell. They both spent the class, between listening to the important parts of lectures, and dodging the sillier bits of the teacher’s discontent, whispering quietly and laughing at some of the more incongruous things said by the teacher.

When the class finally let out, they had a short break period, which they spent wandering the halls together. There was really only a little bit of talking between them, but their points were delivered quite well. They both needed friends, and they both wanted to be friends. Neither of them said this, but the synchronization of their steps made it obvious that they had formed a, perhaps necessary, bond. Their break was silent, and when the bell rang they shuffled off to their next class without worry.

Their history class was boring, and they spent the whole time talking about nothing, really. Somehow, the discussion drifted, among the class and the teacher, to the subject of secret military technologies and stupid things. Lucien got the impression that nobody in the room had a clue what they were talking about, but that was okay. Tommen and Lucien made corrections to all of the stupid half-theories that were being thrown about. After a while of that, things got really strange. More theories, some of which Lucien thought were made up on the spot. Things turned into the dialog from a surrealist novel, at that point, so Lucien and Tommen blocked it out and continued talking and laughing quietly.

That class ended, fortunately for his and Tommen’s sanity. They left the room feeling like they had just witnessed some kind of anomaly. As they walked to their fifth class, Lucien got the distinct urge to get closer to Tommen. Lucien honestly forgot what this class was supposed to be, but he did not mind. He watched the class begin with the fifth silly inspirational speech of the day. The way he said ‘congratulations on your second year of high school!’ made Lucien absolutely blanch. Another fucking year. How did I get through the last one? He thought desperately, keeping the same disinterested, blank face.

Tommen looked over to Lucien, and whispered, â€Another fucking year? How did I get through the last one?†He watched Lucien’s expression go from blank, to a look of déjà vu, to a bit of a disturbed double take.

â€Um, my thoughts verbatim.†He mewled nervously. â€Like, right down to the inflection.â€

â€Mental inflection?†Tommen asked with a hint of fake suspicion.

â€Well, the little voices can’t all sound alike, can they?†Lucien giggled, â€how would I tell them apart?â€

â€You tell them apart by the hallucinations they make. At least I do.†He teased.

â€Of course, of course. How could I forget that?†As Lucien finished his rebuttal, he noticed the teacher, staring at him icily, without even a pause in her lecture. Lucien made note of this with a meek gesture toward the front which had Tommen instantly turning to face the front. After that little incident, Lucien blocked out the class. He was tired. He wanted to go home and sleep, and maybe not spend the whole night crying and wishing for â€" something. More importantly, he hated chemistry!

They had a lunchbreak after their chemistry class, which was fortunate, because Lucien was very much thirsty and tired of sitting in classrooms all day. Lucien suggested they eat lunch outside, to which Tommen agreed, seemingly without preference. As Lucien and Tommen walked outside to the school’s courtyard, Lucien dropped his backpack to lounge on a large cement banister.

â€Not to disturb your comfort or anything, but, did you forget to buy lunch?†Tommen asked, noting Lucien’s lack of food. â€â€˜Cause I’m sure I could spare some if you did.â€

â€No, I just never have gotten food at school. Too much hassle, and money, to eat. Besides, people always try to take my lunch and get shit on me, so I just avoid the trouble.â€

â€How very… zen of you.†Tommen said a bit jaded. â€I think that I’ll eat, thanks.â€

â€Don’t worry about it. Besides, I’ve never really eaten that much, anyway. So, I get a bit of free cash, and cleanish fur at the end of the day.â€

â€I guess that works.†He amended. â€Also, I don’t know if you noticed, but this place sucks!†Tommen said passionately.

â€Um, I think you get used to it after a while. I mean, that, or enough of your brain drools out onto your shirt for you to stop noticing.â€

â€That sounds terrible. I don’t wanna do that. We should, like, escape.†Tommen said, making a quick motion pantomiming escape.

â€No, the chip in your butt that they put in at the assembly will explode and you will be apprehended by the secret security. Then what would we do? Who would I talk to about the hideousness of our teachers’ incongruity?†Lucien asked dramatically.

â€Speaking of stupid things the teachers say…. Were you paying attention when the last guy said ‘Sometimes you find yourself in a compromising position, and you won’t always know what to do about it.’? Because someone really needed to shout something awesome. You know, ‘Like doggystyle?,’ or something.â€

â€I was thinking something perverted, ‘cause he looks like a rapist sometimes. You know. ’Like anal missionary?’†Again, Lucien blushed. I am quickly finding myself attracted to this boy, and decry the wonders of anal missionary? How stupid. How absolutely fucking stupid. I would rather not have to worry about feeling stupid for this a few months down the road if I manage â€" Focus, kitty.

â€Well, that would be quite funny, but you can’t go wrong with the classics.†Tommen said, humor dying down.

The rest of their lunch period went by much the same way. For a while, Tommen went silent and Lucien closed his eyes and basked in the partially hidden sun. Tommen announced that he would be right back. Lucien did not question anything, and continued to bask in the sun of the new school year. During this time, Lucien drifted slowly into a light nap He very much wanted not to be at this place, and he very much wanted not to be at this school for the better part of this year.

Tommen approached Lucien slowly, not making much noise. He did not notice Lucien’s closed eyes or peaceful expression. He did not notice the look of resignation he would come to know as the face Lucien made when he slept.

â€I’m back.†Tommen announced rather flatly.

He laughed a bit when Lucien flew up from his slumber and quietly exclaimed â€Shit!†Lucien’s fur was puffed out as much as possible. His tail was a bottlebrush and his arms were thick and fluffy and quite obviously displaying his discontent.

â€Oh, um, sorry.†Tommen said bashfully, watching Lucien’s shaking hands and suddenly very wide eyes. â€Didn’t mean to startle you.†He said, taking a seat on the banister next to Lucien. The slant of the cement was enough to slide Tommen very slowly down until his hip was in contact with Lucien’s. The silence that ensued was not terribly awkward, but it was not very comfortable. The kind of silence that spoke vaguely of discomfort that they should both have felt.

After a good long while of staring into eternity on both their parts, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of their sixth class of the day. It was another science, which Lucien, despite loving sciences, found himself loathing more and more and more. It was this school, he determined, for the fourth time that day, and the hundredth time since he had begun high school. He mewled a bit inwardly, hoping to get home. He realized he had been quite content, once his relationship with Tommen had solidified a bit. Now, though, he was miserable. His only classmate that he could call anything more than indifferent, was on the other side of the room, and he was tired and hungry and had been cold all day.

The class went by quickly, and Lucien had vaguely listened to the orientation for this class. Notebook and pens were already present, and he was quite ready to take notes in the dark, so that he could stare forlornly wherever he wanted, without anyone feeling uncomfortable. Note-taking did not come this day. He listened to the obese vulpine teacher talk about everything from the current members of the class’s siblings, to the time she had witnessed the bombing of a gas station. However boring, depressing and awful the stories, Lucien was glad to know his nap went unnoticed.

When he woke up, the class was slowly beginning to file out of the room. He was not at all surprised that nobody had woken him up, though Tommen did convey his intention to do so, once he made it to that side of the room. They walked out of the room close together, for the press of bodies all around them. When they made it to the connecting of corridors, Tommen and Lucien went their separate ways. Lucien pointing him towards the gymnasium, the psychology class and the photography lab, in case he had any ideas about joining any one of those activities for this semester’s elective.

They went their separate ways, Lucien heading for the band room, and Tommen heading for the psychology class. He watched Lucien’s hips sway as he walked away. It was not that he had ever been attracted to males, but he loved a cute butt. Lucien most certainly had a cute butt. Certainly as nice as any of the females he had covertly ogled today. It was the thick, fluffy tail, and the contrast, he suspected. He love-love-loved black and white. White tigers, snow leopards (not that he had a fetish about feline girls, or anything, though), to a lesser extent zebras, though he did dislike equines. Gray people were nice too, which could spawn another, far larger list of species of which he was particularly fond, he thought to himself.

He popped in on the psychology class, and saw that it was taught by a tall canine. He did not really pay much attention further than that, for he was far too occupied compiling the list of his favorite gray things, and contemplating making a list of black things of which he was fond, also. He told the teacher that he was just sitting in for now, to see if he wanted this to be his elective. The teacher pointed him to a desk, and he promptly fell back to his list-making.

The class, what little of it he caught between bouts of mindlessness and vague daydreams of nothing particular, seemed absolutely fascinating. Not much work, lots of projects, and the teacher was quite relaxed as far as discipline went, considering the lack of focus on his and the class’s part. When the books were passed out, Tommen got the only book in the class that had been beaten and battered. He did not mind. He especially did not mind when he leafed through the pages to see that it had been annotated and highlighted and worked straight through by someone with a purple pen and a purple, a green and a blue highlighter.

Tommen considered it luck, and stashed the book into his backpack as the bell rang to dismiss classes for the day. He stepped out to the front of the school, where the buses would be to pick up those students unfortunate enough not to have parents who could pick them up or a car to drive themselves. He saw Lucien standing, holding his black and white backpack over one shoulder, and a black oblong case, that he assumed was for his violin. He waved him down, and hurried over to where he was standing.

â€Hey.†He said blankly.

â€Oh,†Lucien mewled, â€hey. Did you decide on a class?†He asked, clutching his violin case lovingly now, his backpack discarded beside him, with one strap hooked around his ankle, allowing Lucien to carry it with him if he wanted not to pick it up.

â€Um, yeah. I think I’m going to stick with psychology. I got the oldest book the class has, and everything is highlighted and worked through already. More importantly, the teacher seems above average, compared to what I’ve seen today, so that should be good.†Tommen explained.

â€That’s good â€" oh, um, do you get picked up by the buses, or do have a sibling or something?â€

â€No, buses. Uh, I wrote down the one that stopped near my house. Um, when does this one get here?†Tommen asked, handing Lucien a scrap of paper that looked like it came from a piece of discarded newspaper.

â€Um, lemme see… that’s my bus. It comes around at three forty-five at the earliest. We’ve got quite a while to screw around,†because that is not a huge visual cue, kitty with the big green eyes looking away nervously, Lucien chided himself. â€I usually see what Thanatos and Alisa are doing after school, and if they’re otherwise occupied, I scuttle off to relax at the back of the school.â€

â€Who are Thanatos and Alisa?†Tommen asked, wondering if he had missed something.

â€You know the black and white and long haired girl you were talking about earlier?†Lucien asked matter-of-factly.

â€Um, the mouse? Yes, I remember, she is pretty.†He said a bit nervously. Interspecies relationships had not been a subject of animosity since forty years ago, but they were still looked upon with a bit of a wary eye.

â€Well, for one, she’s a male. And two, that is Thanatos.†Lucien said, giggling quietly as a hot red blush perked up in Tommen’s ears.

He did not reply for a long time, more focused on looking flabbergasted. Finally, he squeaked a quiet, â€Damn.†That was the only thing he said for a long time, before he remembered something. â€Okay, um, that’s Thanatos, er, and who’s Alisa?â€

â€His girlfriend. Cute leopardess. Um, long white hair, mostly black, usually hanging off of him.â€

â€Are, um, are boys that look like that even allowed to have girlfriends?â€

â€No. Just one girlfriend. When a boy like Thanatos, or like me, for that matter, finds someone who, not only accepts the girlishness, but quite a bit gets off on it, you cannot hog more than one, for the sake of all of the others of us. Or are you just jealous of her?†Lucien teased.

â€No â€" no â€" um, certainly not. I’m, uh, I’m quite offensively heterosexual.†He defended perhaps a bit hastily for either of their tastes. â€I â€" uh â€" I mean, if he was, or â€" or you are â€" or something like that, I didn’t mean any offense, but, I’m just… not.â€

â€Flustered a bit?†Lucien added to Tommen’s embarrassment, â€Thanatos may or may not be gayer than his appearance would dictate, but that’s really not important, because he and Alisa are delirious with glee when they are together. And I am obviously not the picture of heterosexuality, considering I’m wearing hip huggers and fishnets and other various â€" ahem â€" accoutrements.†Lucien said, sweeping a hand in front of his body, to make obvious his effeminate appearance.

â€Accoutrements?â€

â€Offensively heterosexual is certainly interested? I could ask what you’ve got on under those black jeans of yours, and it would be just as inappropriate.â€

â€Are you saying you’re wearing â€" â€

â€If you’re so damned interested, you can just work your way into my pants like anyone else would have to. Don’t think you get special treatment ‘cause we’re friends.â€

â€I â€" †Tommen started, wondering what kind of hole he had just dug himself into, because of the ‘accoutrements’, and because he was apparently friends with a freak. †â€" Um, sorry?â€

â€It’s quite alright.†Lucien mewed back cutely. â€At least you didn’t get mad, which would have led to your ultimate displeasure.â€

â€Why’s that?†He asked. Every moment was confusing around this boy. He could dart from one subject to the next in a moment’s time.

â€I can kick wicked ass. Did a lot of martial arts training when I was younger, now I work out a lot a lot a lot.â€

â€Oh. Um, you don’t look like it. On either part, actually.â€

â€And such is the danger. My tiny body may not look like much, but that’s because I don’t go out of my way to get huge muscles. How would I fit into my hip huggers?â€

â€I guess, if that’s what you go for….†Tommen replied. â€But wouldn’t you rather have the looks to get girls after you? I mean, right now, it would take a certain kind of girl, and I don’t think after you said hello they would be attracted to you anymore.â€

â€I’ve actually been bothered by a few of the girls from this wonderful goth bar for stuff like that.†Lucien shot back.

â€And yet I’ve heard nothing about a girlfriend?â€

â€I did not take them up on their offer.†Lucien said meekly, looking away.

â€Of course you didn’t.†Tommen teased. â€Because you just want to have no case for your heterosexuality.â€

â€Not exactly.†Lucien squeaked. â€Mostly ‘cause they were, like, eighteen at the time, and I was fourteen. Was weird. â€" Also, I guess, there were other factors.†He squeaked blushing.

â€Yeah?â€

â€Like I’m going to tell you.†Lucien said, blushing.

â€Fine, didn’t expect you to.†After that fake argument, things quieted down. They headed to a comfortable spot, and lazed about for a good half hour, until their bus showed up, allowing them and the rest of the students that took that bus home their freedom from their first day of school. Lucien picked up and shouldered his pack, and gripped his violin case professionally, while Tommen lazily hopped up and dragged his beat up backpack along the ground.

They boarded and found a seat together, and continued a lazy conversation that had sprung up before the bus had arrived. Their conversation died out again, and Lucien stared out the window, while Tommen stared at the myriad conversations, the few attractive girls, one of whom was a very pretty raccoon who instantly caught his eye, and occasionally at Lucien, while he tried to figure out what his â€accoutrements†were.

The obvious thought was that Lucien was wearing girls’ underwear. Which was awesome. It takes a lot of, pardon the pun, he thought, balls, to wear panties to school. He thought just a bit about Lucien prancing about in a dress, and then, for a very short moment about Lucien dancing a much different, much more private dance without the dress. He mentally complimented his fantasy’s choice in underwear, and quickly shook the silly thought from his head.

Lucien’s daydreams generally drifted to the same things Tommen was thinking. He was not vain -- well, he was very vain, he was a cat, after all. The reason he was thinking this, though, was because he was always thinking about his femininity, or rather, his lack of femininity, and his unattainable standards for being girly. The train of thought that often followed this daydream was by no means a pleasant one, so he decided to get off the subject just as quickly as he could.

He vaguely thought about Tommen, and wondered what made him so damned cool with everything Lucien had accidentally thrown his way. The girlishness, the â€" ugh â€" the â€accoutrementsâ€, the stupid mewling of affection for cellists. He was quite glad that Tommen did not assume, or that Tommen was a good liar or an idiot.

â€Lucien.†Tommen said, apparently not for the first time. â€This is my stop. I’ll see you tomorrow.†The flat way that Tommen said that was nothing new, and Lucien raised two fingers in acknowledgement and went back into Lucien land. He did notice, rather quickly, that Tommen only lived about five miles from Lucien’s own home.

The short ride to his stop was oddly quiet, considering he was on a bus filled with teenagers. He counted it a blessing and gathered his things. When the bus screeched to a halt at the stop near his house, Lucien was up and out as quickly as physically possible. He trotted down the sidewalk to the long driveway. He walked for a while, the half mile seeming a lot longer than he remembered it from last year.

Finally, ten minutes later, Lucien arrived at his front door, unlocked it, and wearily entered. His family’s home was large. It was much larger than the rest of the houses in this neighborhood, and it was much more elegant, also. His family had bought it for pocket change, due to the circumstances under which it was sold. The previous and only other owner had built it, and immediately began experiencing strange things. Several years later, he could no longer stand it, and sold the house.

Lucien did not believe in ghosts. He did believe in the admission to the psychiatric hospital that the man received shortly after moving to his new home. He walked up the dark wooden stairs to his room. It was a shame that the first owner never finished the house. There was smudgy primer on every wall, and wooden floors that had been improperly finished. All around, it looked much older than it really was.

He closed and locked his door, dropped his backpack by the door, and set his violin case on the floor. He slipped off his shoes, and sat down on his bed. He was glad that his father, god damn his immortal soul, had been very much a handyman, which gave Lucien the opportunity to learn how to repair and construct things like this. He had finished his own room, though inexpertly. The floors were finished properly, the walls were painted with a purple template of baroque vines and had a black chair rail that wound around the room for decoration’s sake only. There were curtain rods with thick curtains and thin chiffon draped down to play off the color. He was proud of his room, if only because it was respectably finished.

Lucien threw off his clothes and promptly took a nap, suddenly feeling his depression coming back. Sleep came easy this afternoon, and Lucien was quickly dozing and dreaming of nothing and terror and love and fear. He woke up shivery and vaguely distraught. Sliding out of bed, Lucien walked to his window and saw the diminishing daylight. He heard his phone buzzing to indicate a missed call.

He grabbed his phone and saw a few missed calls from Thanatos. Lucien dialed his number and put the phone to his ear. A few moments later, Lucien heard Thanatos’s voice greeting him cheerily through his phone. â€Hey, kitty! We missed you this afternoon.â€

â€I met someone.†Lucien half-cooed defensively.

â€Oh? And nobody had to get their teeth broken?â€

â€No. Thank you, I am never the antagonist.â€

â€Right. Well, that’s cool, Lucien, now about this ‘someone’?†Thanatos asked scandalously.

â€He’s a raccoon, and he’s in all of my classes. Is smart and funny and â€" â€

â€And you’re obviously head over heels for him.†Thanatos teased.

â€I â€" †Lucien mewled. â€I â€" I don’t know.â€

â€Ah, what’s there not to know? Invite him over this weekend and make out with him, or something. I’m sure that the average boy would fall for your charms in a second flat.â€

â€Um, ‘offensively heterosexual’? His words, not mine. Though he was very interested in my, um, accoutrements.â€

â€You know, Lucien, you can’t bemoan people’s dislike of you, if you go around telling them you wear girls’ clothing.â€

â€I â€" I didn’t mean to. We were talking about you, or rather, we were talking about him looking at your butt, and he asked if boys like us were allowed to have girlfriends. It degenerated, and I said ‘I am obviously not the picture of heterosexuality, considering I’m wearing hip huggers and fishnets and other various â€" ahem â€" accoutrements.’†Lucien mewled. â€I didn’t just say, ‘hey, you’re cute, you. Let’s fuck. It’s quite okay. You can close your eyes and run your fingers through my hair, and you won’t even remember I’m a boy.’â€

â€You totally should. Would probably work. I mean, like, I would. I know that at least half of the football team would, if you were to become a nice little crossdressing cheerleader.â€

â€That subject is far more volatile for me, than it is for you, Thanatos.†Lucien reminded a bit more flatly than he cared.

â€I know, I know, kitty’s broken.†Thanatos squeaked.

â€Very. Anyway, I’m going to find something edible in this house, and then shower. If you couldn’t tell, back to school depression is eating me up this year, and I’m not coping well. So, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, or sometime.â€

â€Okay, bye, kitty.â€

After their short conversation, Lucien left his room and headed for the kitchen, looking for anything he could eat. He did not find much, and mostly limited his dinner to raw meat and fruit. It was uneventful and tasted better than he expected. After that, he was off to shower for the second time today. He again stood under the hot jet of soothing water, and he again lathered himself with shampoo, though this one was a more soothing tea tree oil and musk scent. It was the most masculine smelling thing he owned. The black musk that hung heavy on every inch of his fur was soothing and warm in his nostrils.

Lucien dried his fur and hair languorously. When that was done, he took a long time to brush it out. He made sure that he was immaculately groomed and as beautiful as he could get. There was no purpose for this, but it made Lucien feel a little bit better about himself. He looked at the clock, and decided that it was sufficiently late for him to go to sleep. He set his brush on his little bedside table, and switched off the lamp that produced the only light in his room. It was not that all he did was sleep, but he was depressed, and bored and very relaxed, from the bathing and grooming. Lucien curled up under his blankets, stretched, and closed his eyes. He slept through the night without tears or discontent.

The morning was a different story, however. Lucien sat up blankly, and turned off his computer’s speakers. He smelled himself for cleanliness, and found himself acceptably not boy-smelling and clean. He brushed his fur to its normal fluffiness, and dressed unhurriedly. He made himself a bit of breakfast, and ate in silence in the kitchen brightened only by the sunrise. After that, he brushed his teeth and hair. He walked outside to his bus stop, and waited to begin the day.

Tommen was waiting on the bus, and had a seat saved next to him. The day was boring and hot and filled with teachers whose knowledge was far less than required for their jobs. It seemed that everything was going much more smoothly, today. It seemed that everything was faster today, too. Lucien and Tommen spent their short break period together, wandering around close to their next class, and were the first ones in their seats when it began. Not that it was an effort for self-betterment, as Lucien was fast asleep not long after the lecture began, and Tommen was similarly engaged with daydreaming and staring at some of the girls in the class (of whom the raccoon girl from yesterday was present).

They made their way to their next class, spent immersed in their own little worlds. Lucien, amid his dozing, was glad that he was in a school so notable for its loose standards of discipline and education. Tommen was glad that the school was full of obviously trashy girls, because his eyes were feasting on the plethora of pretty girls. Not, of course, that he was a lecher, or anything.

Their lunch hour went by quickly, with another note made to Lucien’s absence of food. Such went the day. The sixth and seventh classes of the day were subdued and boring, and neither one was really focused yet. Maybe in a month or two, Tommen thought as he stuffed his Psychology book back into his pack. The bus was late, and it was four-thirty by the time either of them had made it home. Such went the day, and such went the week. Conversations and jokes, broken up by normal school problems.

It had been a long week. School was letting out for the weekend, and everyone’s desire for freedom was palpable. Tommen and Lucien were lazing around at the back of the school, waiting for their bus to come. Lucien’s mind was on the conversation he had been having with Thanatos practically every night this week. Just invite him over and make out with him, or something? I’m sure that the average boy would fall for your charms in a second flat. He heard Thanatos say in his mind.

It was obvious that Lucien was preoccupied. He kept looking this way and that, trying to find something on which his eyes could focus. Lucien’s eyes occasionally drifted over Tommen himself, which did not really bother him. After all, he thought, I did the same to him a few days ago. More important than the thinking and the subtle staring was the silence. Tommen liked talking to Lucien. It was always interesting, so this abrupt change to their daily routine bothered him.

â€What’s up?†Tommen asked casually, giving Lucien room to back out of this situation.

â€Oh, nothing, really.â€

â€Silence betrays you.â€

â€I â€" um â€" wanna come over this weekend? We can do whatever. I live about five miles from your house, so, like, I dunno…. I could walk to your place, and we can go back to mine, or, um, something?â€

â€Ah,†Tommen began dramatically, â€sure, Lucien. We can do something this weekend. Tomorrow at about eleven, maybe? I want to sleep late. I guess just be outside my neighborhood then, and we’ll go from there, okay?â€

â€Yeah.†Lucien mewled, â€great.†There was very little emotion displayed in that answer, but Lucien was squealing with delight on the inside.