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<<Part One>>

March 17, 2014

Monday

I grumble just as any student is prone to when forced to work in a group of people he doesn't know. Sweeping my hair back into a ponytail, I brace myself for my incoming workmates. Here we go again. What happened to that line, the "Things'll be different in college." one?

Who, you may ask, would be so horrible to cause me to react before we even work? Well, just as any class is bound to have, there's Mick; the asshole who is too smart for anyone to interact with, Lacy; who everyone knows has a track record of bed mates that probably outnumbers a smaller college, and finally, the silent surprise: Alex. I have nothing to praise or dislike about him.

Now, granted, I only have these preconceived notions because I'm a fickle thing of a fox, but then again, everyone has to agree that these people are most summarized that way. At least I don't attempt to correct them or confront them with my "observations." Everyone judges, right?

Anyway (and not unexpectedly), Mick immediately starts on my nerves with a comment about how he'd "get this done faster without a group to tie him down," to which I answer with a (quieter than I thought I could) growl, "Then why don't you ask the professor about that?" He gives me a stunned look and I don't hear anymore from him for a while. My only regret is that I didn't say anything earlier.

Then Lacy says something about only being available Wednesday and Thursday nights, but I tune her out after that. Her voice could give a deaf fur a headache.

Fuck, I'm grumpy today. I rub my temples both before and after having the thought about how old it made me feel.

To my surprise, during all the banter and schedule finangling, Alex remains silent except to mention that our plans to go to midweek work sessions are fine with him. He doesn't even mention a place he prefers after we nail down the days and hopeful times.

None of it would have struck me as odd if he was busy texting someone or doing something else distracting, but the entire time, he is just eying all of us as though he's never seen a rabbit, a wolf, and a fox before. Mind you, he's a fox too. When our eyes meet, he easily wins the mini battle of wills, and I quickly look away as a thrill shoots up my spine. Something about his presence... Eyes, maybe?

"Class! Ears, please! Now that you all hopefully figured out days you can work on this, you can all send a representative up front to grab a prompt and a genre. The expectation is that everyone can contribute equally to this project, alright? I expect to see you in my office if that isn't the case."

Call it favoritism, but I couldn't find a reason to be unhappy about the project for the project's sake. I've had Professor Hugo both years of my college education so far, and besides having engaging things to do, let's just say he keeps my eyes engaged too. It can't be helped when a hunk of an otter is brilliant in mind and body. There's a wild rumor that he's--

"Aaron? Dumbass! Go get our shit." I get a rude shove in the shoulder to double the order from Mick, and I have to cover a retaliating snarl with a yawn as I stand up and walk over to Hugo.

He and I share a smile before he hands me the two pieces of paper. As though he knew which pick I'd be, at the top of our genre descriptor came the words, "I hope you guys enjoy this one!" Maybe it was just luck of the draw, though.

Maybe that was written on all of them...

I smile again as I'm sitting down only to realize that looking a paper a teacher gave you and smiling only opens you up for further fire. "What's that, his phone number? I had a feeling you sucked his dick at least once."

I feel defeated as Mick snatches everything and reads the prompts out loud. He doesn't read the message probably because doing so would take away his ability to be abrasive.

The general reactions around the table aren't negative. I guess he was right about us appreciating the assignment a little.

I take a deep breath to compose myself so I can start the conversation about what we can do within our parameters. Mick makes condescending contributions, Lacy makes dismissive ones if any, and again, Alex goes almost unnoticed for being a whole fourth of the group. As time goes on, I feel more like he's pushed out and that he can't really include himself. I've never talked to him enough to know if he's shy.

For the rest of the hour we make plans on who can contribute what and when, and we ultimately decide on making an open document online that we can all edit whenever. Everyone else has "something going on after this class," so I take it upon myself to say I'll create it when I get home. Over that chunk of time, I hear Alex speak maybe four more times, and all of his contributions, while genius, get a hasty rebuttal from Mick. I'll let you imagine, but know that it wasn't pretty.

As I walk out I find myself wishing that Mick was a mule just for the sake of irony. That gets a chuckle and brighter mood out of me as I retreat to my apartment. The rain, slow and quiet, also does wonders to ease the aches in my hunched shoulders. Just gotta relax sometimes, Aaron.

***

I realize, too late and while I'm unlocking my door, that I could've called bullshit on everyone's claims to be busy. That class let out at eleven at night. I end up sighing as I walk in, throw my stuff by the couch, and yelp as I only just notice my roommate looking right at me. "Sorry if I woke you..."

He shakes his head and scratches at his beak. He's a raven, and his soft-looking feathers are probably what helped him blend. "I wasn't asleep. How was your day?" His soft voice cheers me up even more than rain and my internal monologue could.

I smile at him. "Same old same old. Nothing really happened at work, but we got a new group thing in Comp." I fake gag.

He laughs softly. "Anyone I know?"

"Well, there's Mick--"

"Ew."

"Lacy,"

"Double ew."

"And Alex," I finish. To my surprise, he just looks at me as though that last member gave him hope or something. "I take it Alex isn't as bad as either of those two? He seemed quiet."

He nods. "Quiet, yeah. I don't know much about him, but he's cute. Something about foxes really gets me, you know." He grins mischievously.

I blush at the indirect pass at me which gets a chuckle out of Davis, the raven. He's quiet as his attention shifts and he watches the small TV in our room while I straighten things out for tomorrow. He has day classes and I have a day job and night classes, so when we do talk, even just small talk is lovely.

He's told me before that he thinks I'm cute. Adorable, even. We both agreed that roommates, especially with little switch flexibility, are best left just as roommates.

We still flirt sometimes.

I take my stuff to throw in my room, then return and sit next to Davis, curling up into a ball with my tail in my lap. We both watch the news a little before I ask, "So how'd your day go?" He grins wide at me, and it takes a little while for me to look away from the screen and see. I smile right back, accusing, "You made your move, didn't you? And, what, he said yeah?"

He nods enthusiastically. "Yeah! Oh my god, Aaron, you had to see the look on his face!"

"Good?"

He sighs happily, a dreamy look in his eyes. "He was so cute. He told me yes only after blushing and stammering for a couple of minutes."

I snort. "Cute isn't much of a compliment when you call everything cute."

He nods and concedes my point. "True, but I think it's better that I see the good in so many things, you know? And you can't tell me you haven't seen a cute gryphon."

I roll through my memory of the grand total of two gryphons I've ever seen. "The only ones I know are so...manly."

"Not your thing?"

I shrug. "It could be. I guess I don't know yet."

We both focus on the TV again. At the next commercial break, he tells me, "That's a good answer."

A little later he gets up and gets ready for the night in the bathroom. He comes back in little more than boxers and a baggy shirt. I get up after and do the same, making sure to brush my teeth meticulously and smile at myself in the mirror before I'm done. I stick to only a shirt, but mine hangs over me almost like a dress. It isn't hard to pull off when you're a five two tall sort of fox. If Davis has ever noticed, he hasn't said that he knows I'm practically naked.

Eventually we're both yawning too much to talk or watch anything meaningful, so we retreat back to our respective rooms with a final "Goodnight" to each other.

I curl up again as though a ball will keep the thoughts floating around on the outside. My ears twitch about, hearing nothing but everything there is to hear so late at night. Eventually the white noise of all my hopes and ideas and predictions lulls me to a deep sleep.

March 19, 2014

Wednesday

"Will you guys need anything else?"

The family of four wolves all give each other that unsure look and eventually Papa Wolf tells me, "No, but can we get some bread sticks to go?"

I think about how I've gauged them thus far. With a huge smile so they hopefully don't get offended, I quip, "Sure, just as long as you guys come back and ask for Aaron!" I throw in a wink and get the reaction I wanted. Phew.

On my way to the back I get dinner orders from two mice who just got seated and a jaguar with a corner seat who wants two glasses of wine despite being very obviously alone. Who am I to judge?

I get the food started and pluck an order of bread to throw into a box for the wolves. I get the wine and the box on my tray and head back, stopping to let the mice know things are started and to holler if they need refills. The wolves take the bread, pay with cash, and bid me goodnight.

I fail to notice the twenty dollar tip on a sixty dollar bill until later in the night.

But along the line of failing to notice, I somehow didn't think that a lone jaguar asking for two drinks would want me to sit down and share with him. His cat grin unnerves me as I recite, much like the handbook would say, "I'm not allowed to dine with customers, much less drink alcohol, on the clock."

I try to seem uninterested too, (honest!) but he just wicks away the rejection and asks, with a wink, "When do you get off then, cutie?"

Aw, fuck. I grasp my temples like I'm thinking instead of holding back a less-than-positive reaction. "I'm done at eleven, today." I consider telling him to buzz off, but something stops me. I think I could use a dose of "Get assertive and kick this guy's ass!" right about now.

His grin widens (stupid cats) and he tells me he'll wait. "Take a sip, though. Just one. It can't hurt."

I'm reminded of all of those super-cool 60's movies I watched in fifth grade about peer pressure. "No thank you, sir. If you need something else, let me know." I didn't want to open the door, but a combination of habit and good manners made me. I kick myself mentally but walk away super fast before he can say anything really dirty like his expression betrayed he might.

I walk past the mice again to remind them I exist, flash the female half of the pair a smile, and continue to the back. "Matt?" I turn to a cook. "Where's Matt?" I get pointed in the right direction to the polar bear store manager and immediately spill. "There's a creepy freak out there giving me the eye and asking me to drink and when I get off and--"

He takes my shoulders and gives me a look like I just told him the sky is purple. "Calm down. You've been here a while, Aaron. You know what to do. Do you really want me to step in, or can you handle it?"

I shuffle my feet and stare at the ground. "Can I tell him to leave?"

He chuckles heartily and clamps my right shoulder again. "Go ahead, fox. Get me if he won't go, okay?" He turns his attention away almost before he finishes his sentence and starts shouting about some missing plates that someone may or may not have broken and hidden.

I take a deep breath, wait around long enough for the mice meal to be done, and head back out to brave the life of the average poor college student. Your mom told you no loans orno job, dumbass. Suck it up.

The mice seem delighted to have their food out so fast despite our restaurant's reputation, the newcomers order expensive wine, and the jaguar seems broody until I am in easy sight.

"Ahhh," he breathes with a purr. "You came back. Wine's still yours, fox." If the first time weren't attractive enough, there's now a strange chemical smell coming from somewhere around the table. Doesn't take a genius to know...

"Actually, sir, if your interest in our establishment is mostly in me, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Instant frown. I mentally brace myself.

He shakes his head and chuffs condescendingly. "Scared, are you? I was just going to give you a good night. You look like you could use one."

I'm blushing pretty obviously before I ask again, with a squeak, for him to go. He obliges, but not before finishing his glass in a gulp and telling me he'd be back when I'm ready. I bus the table after watching him go as though clearing the place would clear my memory. I find a napkin with his number scrawled on it in just what I'd imagine a pervert's scrawl might look like.

It takes a dive back into the kitchen, huffing deep breaths, and some water a fellow waiter could tell I could use for me to feel any semblance of okay again. This is the last fucking time I pick up someone's night shift.

Nothing eventful happens for the rest of the night, but I'm shaken up enough for it to be very hard to concentrate on even the most mundane orders of lemonade and macaroni and cheese. I still pick up a decent tip on everyone but an old couple who hated everything I said and probably complained to my manager.

Overall? Not an awful extra shift, and the night people tipped a lot better altogether. I get two dishes to go (and for free) and make my exit.

Maybe saying I'll cut all night shifts is too extreme. I'll just try to avoid being so flustered by cats again.

***

I get into my apartment and barely lay out the two takeout boxes before I keel onto the couch. Davis had texted ahead to let me know he'd be up late studying anyway and that I wouldn't be bothering him by coming back late. He greets me before I faceplant hard.

"Hard night, I take it?"

I mumble, "Tough job." I hear him take his box and start eating. He's happy to see me I bet. "I took someone's night shift out of the kindness of my heart." I get up and sit down properly so we can carry a conversation.

He laughs a little and his eyes light up before he pokes, "So what have we learned?"

I wince more than a few times as I take my hair out of its braid. "Kindness sucks."

He giggles even more. "Not quite what I was going for, but still true." He happily eats what I got him, a seafood platter with just about one of everything, and eventually he notices I'm staring. "You aren't one of those food fetishists, right?" He laughs before he even hears my response.

I blush and sit up so I can eat. "Shut up." The TV's off and our focuses are entirely on each other. And the food, I guess. Whatever.

"Anything in particular get you down?"

I nervously shift about, grasping behind me like my tail is bothering me. "Yeah. T-this one guy..." I stop as I choke a little. A thrill of fear runs up my spine and I set down my fork. "I-I don't know...he just..."

He calmly watches me, waiting to see if he needs to do more. I suck it up and he simply asks, "You alright? Take a deep breath. He's gone now."

I take a moment, keeping myself from doing something embarrassing. "People are just so...direct. Even you," I look up at him and his surprised expression, "you asked your gryphon out. You made a move. I could never do that. I can't even reciprocate." He nods his understanding.

"Do you feel like his directness was warranted?" The pause opens another question. "Did you even know him?"

I shake my head. We're silent for a while. I'm not sure why I'm so upset. I'm not sure Davis knows either. "I'm sorry. This is stupid."

He shakes his own head, clicking his beak before he speaks up, "You felt threatened by somebody. That's real. I get that. Just try to calm down, now. I assume your manager dealt with it?"

I start eating again slowly. "No. He told me to talk to him. Said he'd have my back if anything went wrong."

He thinks for a while. "I think that's almost better." I look up in confusion, and he continues, "You didn't have anyone to rely on but yourself and you still did what you needed to do. You kicked him out, right?" I nod. "Then there. You did that. No one else."

I feel quite a bit better at that. He always manages to point out things that are clear and definitely true, but sometimes you just need that push, you know? "Thanks, Davis."

He smiles at me. "Better?"

I smile back. "Yeah. Much better."

The night ends casually with little more back and forth. Sometimes having someone to talk to means having someone to be quiet with.

March 20, 2014

Thursday

I have always seen the irony in how schools set students into group projects so that they can "see how real world projects are done."

The irony isn't that I could do more alone. The irony is that I'm sitting here alone at the meeting spot waiting for a group that is altogether half an hour late even if they all show up now. I review my notes again before looking at the door, sighing, then refilling my drink.

The coasters set out for everyone else are looking drowned. Cool drinks, I smirk, for some very uncool people.

Just as I think the insult, (not like I hadn't thought of plenty before that one) the door gets a knock. At least one person is here. Maybe more?

I open the door only to see Alex. He looks up almost as though for approval. "Just you?"

He nods. He looks at the ground and mutters, "I'm sorry about being late. I thought I had my notes more put together than they were."

Okay. I'd be lying if I said that didn't earn all of his points back. I'm pretty easy. "Don't worry about it. You're welcome to come in, but you're the only one who's shown up."

His eyes come up to mine, furrowed under confused eyebrows. "Just me?" I nod. He smirks. "Yikes."

I silently agree. Great start to our group adventure. I show him inside and let him know that I appreciate him at least showing up. He apologizes again about being late.

I shrug it off and situate us in the same space I had planned to fit four furs. He doesn't say anything as he takes a seat and I quickly take two drinks off the table. Safe to say I'm counting them as a loss.

Eventually I make my way back, and he's already busy pulling up his notes on his laptop. "So how do we want to go about this?" I ask.

He clears his throat and even frowns as that doesn't give him enough time to think up a response. "I guess if we can't make them come to meetings, then we really have to use that document sharing. Maybe we could write to the professor too?"

He looks up for approval, smiling when I nod. "Yeah. It isn't a lot to get done, but it still needs to be done. We could do all of it but--"

"But why do that when we can tell on them?"

That gets a giggle out of me. "Yeah. True that. I'll write an email now. I'll just say that they didn't come to the first try we made at getting together. Are we concerned yet, or?"

He idly checks his phone. "Hm. Sure. 'We had a bad feeling when we got them assigned to us,' right?"

I chuckle. He's as bitter as I was two days ago. At least he's being nice to me.

We get quite a bit of analyzing and planning done before we hit the roadblock of missing crew.

Eventually, after we give up and I show him around, he asks, "Is your roommate a raven?"

I nod. "Yeah. Why?"

He stretches, barely showing a hint of the white fur of his belly under his otherwise conservative clothing.

I take the opportunity to once-over him. He's a fox like I am, but while I'm a gray fox, he's a red one. As far as I can tell, he's pretty averagely colored, but he has adorable spiked black headfur and a few stripes that look like piercings on his ears. Those are black too, and they add just the right amount of charm to his face.

...Maybe that was more than a once-over. If he notices or is bothered by my checking him out, he doesn't act like it.

He just resumes our conversation. "I think one of my friends is dating him. Does he talk about a gryphon?"

We share a knowing look after I nod. "How long before all they talk about is each other?"

He shakes his head and chuffs. "That's already where Seth is."

We share a chuckle for a while. Before it gets awkward, I manage to redirect the conversation. "How'd you guess I live with Davis, anyway?"

He chokes on the water he's drinking, ears working at the speed of sound and eyes as big as saucers. "Oh, that! Ah, just a lucky guess. I've seen him at the LGBT club every now and then." I ask if he's alright as he chokes through his thought, but he maintains that he's okay. "Swallowed wrong," he says.

Caught with his pants down, I say. I barely manage to stop the mental image of just that, too. Gimme a break. I'm a fox. And you can't blame me. He looks like, if he was trying, he'd be very cute. Unless his trying really was just a plain black tee with some normal blue jeans.

Regardless, I don't know what or why he is hiding what he's hiding, so I have to let it drop. We collaborate and make sure everything is finished that we want finished, and he packs up to leave.

I see him out with one last poke at how the other two never showed up, and we part ways with a laugh.

After closing the door I had one of those weird moments where you feel like you'd rather talk to someone about what's on your mind, but yet you don't because nobody deserves to know what you're thinking about.

Complicated enough? Put simply in terms that I couldn't avoid, I knew right after he walked in that I'd want him close. Closer, at least. Something about his attitude and personality were engaging and reminiscent enough of my own sass to make me want more. It's almost like looking in a mirror.

But then I stop myself. Am I being honest? Is that really all?

The butterflies in my stomach and unsteady beat in my chest want to argue not. I shake my head. Just because I found one person whose personality I like, I'm not invited to an entitlement of a relationship.

Fuck. All this before I think about him being straight. Davis doesn't know anything about him, so I doubt he'd be the source to go to.

I frown as I think about hints I could grab at. I recap how he reacted to our discussion of our romantically involved room mates. He didn't see disgusted by the prospect, just sort of sick of it. All in all, he could be an accepting straight guy.

I sigh and resign myself to some lazy time watching TV I have to catch up on to be cool. Taking a night off from work to relax feels wrong, but also just right.

Eventually the predictable plot lines bore me and all of the people I knew would die are dead. Pheh. That cocky guy had it coming.

Finally to my rescue, Davis pokes his head in and announces his arrival with food. Instead of takeout like I brought us the other day, he has with him groceries.

I help him haul in the grocery bags that I'm sure, could we see it, were suffocating his talons for blood. The plethora of ingredients serve as a promise of something good in the future and promptly start a rumbling in my tummy. Davis hears and pokes fun at me, "Geez. I didn't know I was going to be saving you from dying of starvation."

I blush as we finish organizing. "Shut up! What are we making, anyway?"

He pulls out his phone, checking first for texts and then back to his browser. He ends up showing me this dish we can make out of tofu, vegetables, and some crazy spices and sauces that neither of us could read the labels on. "And thankfully, this should make enough for us to eat tomorrow too if you like. Or you can have some for lunch."

A fast hour filled with plenty of early sampling and slapped paws later, we have something of a masterpiece for dinner. Davis had, at some point before we met, taken cooking classes. Those have saved us a million times over.

We sit at the same table Alex and I had been sharing not three hours earlier, and his fading scent is all that prompts me to tell Davis about the time that we ended up spending alone.

"You guys were ditched by both Mick and Lacy?" I nod. "Oh my god. That's not how you get through a group project."

I shake my head, sighing. "No, and I ended up emailing our professor to tell him that we had concerns about them not putting forth enough work."

We eat in silence for a while. I think it's more in awe of the food than for a lack of things to say. Davis strikes back up, "I'd tell you about my date with Seth, but you'd probably just plug your ears."

I look up at him, smirking. "That sicky-sweet? Was a bucket of sugar tossed over you guys?"

He laughs. "No. It was just really nice. I guess you never know how a lunch will go when you don't really know the other person super well."

I laugh almost hard enough to be offensive. "Isn't that the point of a date?"

He shrugs, flustered. "Stop!" He sighs. "I don't know. I really enjoyed it, that's all."

More silence. "Didja kiss?"

He throws a pencil that was still on the table at me, which I narrowly dodge. "You're the worst person to come to with feelings, you know that?"

I mock-whimper. "Aww, surely you don't mean that!" I add an ear fold. "I only tell you what I'm honestly thinking."

He snickers right back at me. "I don't think a fox should ever use the word 'honestly.' I don't mind that you asked, I guess. I just always thought going that far that fast was slutty."

My eyebrows furrow. "That far? Does every kiss take you to bed?"

He throws his head back in frustration. "You're impossible tonight."

I frown. For at least that final bit, I really was saying what I thought. It can't be that bad to kiss on the first date if you guys already know you like each other. What's wrong with that?

We finish eating with a feeling of strained silence permeating the table. As he gets up to take care of his plate, I grab his wrist. He looks at me with an almost pained expression. "I'm sorry. I was only asking what I didn't know."

He nods and sits back down. "I understand, fox. It's fine. I guess sometimes I'm just insecure enough for you to poke through and reveal it easily. I know you only have the best intent. I respect that about you, because I can't be certain about anyone else."

I force a weak smile. "I apologize to you and it turns into us talking about things you like about me?"

He chuckles. "I didn't say I liked that about you. I respect it, though." He gets up again, and I just sit in place for a while, reflecting on whether or not that left us in a better spot. I guess it doesn't ultimately matter.

March 23, 2014

Sunday

Laundry day has always been an enlightening day for me.

There can't be much more solid proof of who you are than when you're forced to see everything you wore and what condition it ended up in.

Generally, Davis and I switch off who does the laundry, and neither of us like using the one on campus, so it's just more convenient to take a few quarters and a party of one to the laundromat down the street.

When I first met Davis and we started this system, I think we both were a little more messy and okay with that since it was only the offending party that had to clean it. Now, though, I notice that our clothes end up in the hamper more for being freshened up and cleaned for less obvious offenses.

And I'm definitely glad that neither of us have sports things to wash. Just watching some furs with jock straps makes me reel before I can even smell it.

I inevitably smell it, too. Troubles of being a fox.

That's why the corner laundry place, while looking a bit more run down, still serves as a better solution. Or at least, that's what I tell myself as I look up from my book and see half an hour still left on the first load.

Page turn. Glance. Sigh.

A tap on my shoulder interrupts my otherwise dreary rut. "Aaron, right?"

I turn and see Alex with his own laundry in tow. He doesn't have enough to make the guess that he does his room mate's as well, though. Despite being a fox, his scent is almost piney. "Yeah. Hey, Alex."

He smiles as I remember his name. I allow him to start his own laundry before striking up anymore conversation. He beats me to it anyway, turning and sitting next to me on top of a dryer. "You come here, too?"

I nod. "Yeah. I see too many people that I know well enough to say hi to. Then it's all awkward because you're literally airing your laundry right in front of them."

He snickers. "You afraid of being clowned for your boxers?"

I guffaw. "Hardly. But you know how people smell."

He nods at that. He ends up pulling out some of the work for our project. He reminds me of me.

But on the same note, I don't know much about him. I allow a few pages of my book to turn before I start, "So what do you do on weekends besides laundry?"

He chuckles. "Ah, well, I generally get out to see a lot of friends. I'm pretty much a hermit on weekdays to study, so I make up for it on Friday and Saturday. Sundays I try to take things easy. How about you?"

I set my book down as the machine goes off to let me know to pull my stuff out. I let the question bounce around my head a little until I realize I have about the most boring weekends ever. I set the darks in the machine and start the dryer on the lights before sitting down with him again.

"Now that you mention it, I do so much over the week that I just sleep all weekend. I can't remember the last time I went to just hang out with friends."

He frowns. "Lots of classes?"

"Classes and a day job."

"Yikes." He plays his claws over his leg in what I determine to be a nervous gesture before he turns to me again and asks, "How would you like to cure that?"

Generally I wait until I know someone well and how they'd react before I do stupid stuff like act difficult. I think Alex will be okay with it. "Cure classes? Sign me up!"

He rolls his eyes. "No, I meant not hanging out anywhere. There's a party this Friday at a house just a block from here."

Getting out sounds nice, sure, but I'm not huge into the party scene. "A party, eh?"

He senses my hesitation, and adds, "Yeah! I mean, it's a bit of a leap from nothing to party, but I'll take you! I have a feeling you're the one I'll know best there anyway."

"But you don't know anything about me." This time of being difficult wasn't to test or see how bad he wanted me. Again, in my bluntness, I can't help but express exactly how I feel.

He shrugs. "I wouldn't say 'anything.' I know you appreciate learning at college, going the extra way to avoid duress, and chatting up foxes you barely know at the laundromat."

We share a laugh. "You're on the way to solving the puzzle, Alex."

He smiles wide. God damn if it wasn't cute. "So...?"

I sigh exasperatedly. Not sure if it was real or for effect. "Fine."

"Yay!" he chirps. He almost makes to hug me, but covers it as bending over to grab something. It's for the better. I'm not sure where a hug would leave us, to be honest.

When he straightens he still has a goofy grin on his face. I could see us talking a lot more in the future.

...For purely platonic reasons. Honest.

***

Upon returning to my place, I fail to foresee a raven ambush or the accusation that I look really happy.

My defense? "I was just having fun doing laundry." Raised eyebrow. "Honest! I ran into Alex while I was there."

Bad move. "Oh, ho ho! That kind of fun, eh?"

I light up bright red. "N-no! We just talked!"

He laughs a while. My ears fold, and after a while of standing there embarrassed, I decide to get ready for work.

When I'm in my room away from the raven who thinks he's a hyena, it's easier to convince myself that nothing really is happening between Alex and I.

Honestly, there's more tension between Davis and I, but that was more before he had a gryphon to fawn over.

My thoughts are interrupted when I finish buttoning up my collar. This is why I haven't been doing anything. I'm working or in a class almost all the time...

It's enough to make me sit on my bed and sigh sadly. There was a time that I told myself that when I got to college that I'd be independent and school wouldn't rule my life anymore. It doesn't, I'd venture to say, but it definitely shares with my job for a joint ownership.

I'll be able to quit this job if my beta testing application goes through. I really hope it does.

I leave my room with a grimace and fancy clothes on, and when I go to open the door to our apartment, Davis closes it again, arm over my left shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have clowned you."

I turn and fold my arms against my chest. I have to look up about a foot to make eye contact, and that detracts from my effect. "Yeah? I guess I deserved it. I make fun of you and Seth."

He shakes his head. "That's different though. Seth and I are a thing. As far as I know, Alex is just some fox you talk to. I only said anything because he's the first guy you haven't talked negatively about since me." He smirks. "And I might have to take myself off that list if I keep going."

My arms stay where they are, but I can't keep up the scowl. My attention diverts itself to the wall where I can count bumps and imperfections. "It's fine, Davis."

"You sure?"

I sigh. "Yeah. I need to go to work."

"So this isn't done?"

"Davis." He allows me to open the door without another word. Internally, I think that he knows it isn't about him. I'm just a fickle fox who can't stand the mention of relationships. He isn't the first to see how sore that subject is.

***

"Okay, and you have your choice of a side for that. Need me to list those off?"

The rabbit shakes his head. "Fries are fine, thanks." Fries are always fine.

I scrawl his order followed by those of his family (8 cubs!) and find myself retreating to the back room faster than usual. I give the order to the chefs, make some offhand comment about not wanting 1, much less 8, children, and break out my phone.

I text Davis, "Im sorry about tonight. Its me not you."

Stuffing that back in my pocket, I take a deep breath and reacquaint myself with the present. It takes only a few seconds to work that big fake grin back onto my face and remember all of the manners that would make my parents proud.

That isn't to say I don't feel enormous grief weighing me down as my own emotional imbalance makes me piss off my friends.

I get my third table filled as the hostess in charge tonight hates me and wants me to choke. Every other waiter has at least two open spots. Whatever.

"Hey there! Welcome to Florence's Finest! My name's Aaron, and I'll be your waiter tonight. What would you like to drink?" I look up from my neutral gaze while reciting only to find Alex of all people looking back up at me.

He smirks right away. "Nice to meet you, Aaron." We laugh a little while. "I'll just play it safe with a water."

I nod. "Sounds good! Safe isn't boring or anything." Before he can protest or say anything smart back, I continue, "So let me know what sounds good to eat! I'll be back in five with your water." I've got my tongue out and a bounce in my step as I circle around to check on more tables and just be an ever-present waiter.

It's funny, because some people separate what they'd like from a waiter from what they ever actually do as a waiter. For example, I always hear complaints about waiters hiding in the back and making the minimum presence to get through serving a meal, but then those same people, presented with a brand new part-time job, do the same thing so they can complain about their two second impression of some old couple.

It's too bad I'm not paid enough to be honest to my coworkers. Then again, is anyone?

I feel a reply text from Davis just as I hit the back and marvel at the timing. "I overstepped the boundaries. Youve told me where those are. Im sorry." I nod as though he can see me. Rather than respond I decide to do my job and wait for emotions later.

Especially since my job includes talking to Alex more. Maybe I should explain myself. I know, in the back of my mind, that I could really like him. Like a boyfriend or whatever.

But in the forefront, thoughts more like "Gee, I forgot some homework I'll have to do when I get back to the apartment." and "I bet I'm trailing something in my tail." were taking precedence.

On a more serious note, I think that the only thing keeping me from engaging Alex is myself. Duh, I know. I...was in this relationship before. The only other "real" one in my life. Real in that I was actually finally with another guy after seeing the light (rainbow light, if you were wondering).

We were going steady as far as I knew until one day he made a whole bunch of references to us taking things a step further. I promptly missed every one. He promptly dumped my sorry ass. That's your history lesson for today.

I sigh. Having one ex to think about in and of itself is enough to put you down. Especially when everyone says you're not half-bad looking. It's not bad to think you're a least a little entitled to something when that's the case, right? Right?

I swing back to Alex's table after getting everyone else out of the way. If I have to describe how our trades go, I'd say he purposely eats slow when I'm gone, stops when I show up, and then it's all subtle passes and flirting from that point on.

Towards the end of the night, he told me he'd wait for my shift to be over if it wasn't any difference to me. Despite the composure I'd exhibited all night, I'm sure I nodded like an overexcited pup eager to hear about a birthday gift.

He tells me where his apartment is, and tells me that it's where we're going when we leave. It was odd considering it wasn't like I'd go to the back and look up directions to get from his apartment back to my own apartment.

Anyways, it was a prompt closing that featured only one inebriated customer who wouldn't leave without a brownie volcano in a to-go box.

I hung up my apron and left with a cute thing of a fox. Not bad. I consider texting Davis the news, but then I think about the almost-fight we had. The irony of making him stop clowning me about relationships as I walk out with a very dateable fox makes me chuckle aloud.

"What's funny?"

I shake my head and keep smiling dumbly. "Just thinking about my roommate."

He raises an eyebrow, then "realization" dawns on him. "Think he's doing things that he's grateful to have you out for?"

I dawdle a bit, covered only by us getting into his car. I fail to think about how nice it actually looks. "Oh, yeah. Thinking so. I've never asked if he's into exhibition, though."

We share a chuckle as he starts his car. Of any fox that I've known, I can't recall anyone else who seemed so...conserved. Maybe that's the wrong word. Every other fox I know would dive even further into our current talk and maybe even force it forward. Until we kissed. Or did something more lewd.

Alex just seems happy to work at my pace, which is to say, "Pretending to be only interested in being friends." Maybe something could happen, though. That party is only in a few days.

Then that homework flashes back to the front of my overworked brain. "If you don't mind, could you actually just take me back to my place?" Ear droop. "I spaced some homework."

"I guess you have to trouble that raven anyway, eh?" He puts on a smile that I know and he knows isn't real. Damn.

I bite my lip. "I'm sorry. Probably not the best way to end a night you stayed so long for."

A while passes as we drive. It's a short distance, and after we stop, he turns to me. "Being honest," he pauses, looks away, clears his throat, then looks me in the eye again, "Being honest, I think it's probably better this way."

I nod. We're on the same page. Weird how that can all be so...nonverbal. "Thanks for the ride, Alex."

He smiles again, this time honestly. "No problem, Aaron. We still on for the meeting Wednesday?"

I smile back. "Definitely."

March 26, 2014

Wednesday

Group meeting attempt part two! Hooray.

Maybe at least this time if they don't show up I really won't hesitate to say mean things and carry the project on my back.

Pfft. I say that every time.

I check my fur again in my bathroom mirror before snatching the directions from my mini-printer.

Not far. Good.

The "group" decision was to move it to Alex's apartment since it must be so much more pleasant than coming to another small place like mine.

All sarcasm aside, I'd honestly be surprised to see either of them show up. Sure, they have less of an excuse since this is our second try, but they also have the secondary "I can't make it that far, whine whine whimper!"

Do I always sound this bitter?

***

You know that look some people get in their eyes when they see someone and they just light up? Like seeing that person just suddenly and drastically made their day so much better?

It's a nice look to get, and it's what I was greeted with upon knocking on his door. "Aaron! You came!"

I chuckle. "You're surprised? Are we getting a repeat performance?"

He sighs but shakes his head. "Yes and no. They aren't coming but they said they'd show up and give us what they have so far. If it's done, then I guess we'll just organize it ourselves and hand it in Friday."

He lets me in after I give a nod. He continues, "Anyway, this is my place. Not much bigger than yours, but my kitchen can actually fit a person or two."

I tisk. "No, no. That's only because my 'kitchen' is only a kitchenette."

He chuckles. "Okay, go ahead and get technical!" The look he shot me afterwards was supposed to be accusing, but only made my heart beat a few too many times for the following minute.

He sits us at a table that was just about the only separation between his kitchen and the room with the door. He rests his chin on his paws. "Yeah, so I guess we're alone again for the most part."

I shrug. "Not all bad. We're just finalizing stuff, right?"

A nod. "As soon as dickweed--I mean Mick--gets here with their parts of this." I would've laughed if we didn't both feel so strongly against him. It was rallying to not be alone, though.

I smile anyway. "Good. I'm glad that we can just staple it all and turn it in."

He nods agreement, looking at his idle paws before jumping up. "Drinks! I'm an awful host!" I giggle a little as he scurries off to return with water. When he does, he still looks unhappy. "I didn't really ask you what you wanted."

I scoff. That's his concern? "Oh, please. I only drink water anyway." He heaves a sigh of relief. Compared to a few nights ago, he definitely seemed much antsier. I'd catch him looking at something somewhere and bow his ears in irritation. My own examination later would reveal something in a not perfect but far from unclean state. "You okay?"

He snaps back to attention. "What? Yeah. Sorry. I haven't had anyone over during the day lately."

During the day? His demeanor is all that keeps me from asking exactly what that means, though, being college students, I can hazard a guess. A quick sniff doesn't reveal anyone else's scents, though. Maybe he's just good about that since he's a fox, too.

Ugh. Internal monologue needs to_stop_. "Don't worry about it. Your place looks fine." I put a smile on to ignore my inner turmoil.

He smiles back at me. Mission accomplished. Double accomplished as his grin makes me actually put everything aside and focus on him for the sake of him.

We power through the organization of about thirty sheets of paper just between the two of us, then, as being proper was getting old, he allows us to retreat to a couch he has in front of a bigger (if not higher quality) TV than I have back at my place.

"Anything you'd prefer to watch?"

"Nah."

And so passed about half an hour before I start noticing little things. At first, it isn't much more than a "coincidental" tail brush-over as we were both sitting relatively curled up. My tail is off to the left where it wouldn't touch him if I tried, but his is between us, erratically cycling motion with his thoughts. I don't put any thought to it.

I glance over at his tail after it brushes over me again only to find him staring me in the eye. The first time, he looks away and blushes, melting my heart a little.

The second time?

...I have to look away. But I look right back when I hear shuffling from over there and find the fox literally next to me. Instead of the cushion that occupied only his tail, a smily little fox found his way there.

He plays like he's still watching whatever we have on. He isn't fooling anyone. I think he knows that.

I surprise both of us when I reach a paw over to his lap and gently caress one of his thighs. It wasn't overly sexual or anything. He purrs softly and almost directly into my right ear. I always find it odd that some foxes can do that while others can't. I've sure tried with minimal success.

Now, I've told this story before and I don't think anyone ever believed that this part really happened. I still can't either. But it did.

After more teasing back and forth and even more nonverbal cues pushing us toward one another, he takes the reigns and, after the next time I face him, starts to push me on my back by my shoulders, pinning me. I'd be lying if I said that wasn't exactly what I wanted to happen.

He crawls over me slowly, all the while locking eyes with me. Mine almost close with the certainty that I'd soon be charmed with foxy lips, but then...

...The doorbell rang. Unbelievable?

If our sighs of absolute killbuzz were any measure, then hell yeah.

I still can't believe that timing.

There's the lull in time as I hear both of our hearts pumping at half the speed of light. While still over me, he huffs another frustrated breath, looks into my eyes with very sincere regret, then starts receding his advance.

Alex gets up first to go and answer, and I, feeling nothing but honest disappointment, go back to the table and nurse my water. I faintly pick up on Alex growling under his speech after opening the door, and honestly, he's just acting on what we're both thinking.

After a very brief exchange that likely includes looking forward to never working together again, Alex closes the door and returns with a hefty stack of more paper. He sets it all down next to what we already have done and stapled, and gives me a look of longing. "I'm sorry that ended that way."

I nod in agreement. "Yeah. Not your fault though."

His hackles raise again and he has to take a breath to calm down. "I know. That's the frustrating part."

We get the papers sorted out for Friday, and I bid a farewell.

It might be unbelievable, but you can be sure that we didn't do anything else that afternoon. I still can't believe it now.

March 28, 2014

Friday

It couldn't have been easy for Alex to get me into the idea of partying. But it was. I guess.

All my college life, I've stayed away from fear of all the horror stories of people doing stupid stuff and dying or getting injured. He said this wasn't going to have anything hardcore.

Just some fruity drinks. Am I scared of drunk people? I'll tell myself to laugh.

I've gotta admit that was probably the selling point. I'd never done much with alcohol, and what I had done was always a bunch of fruit blended until the alcohol undertone was almost nonexistent. I'm not anxious to leave that behind, but maybe a buzz is okay? Sure. That's okay. I guess.

I keep chanting that over and over in my mind to soothe my worry as I ring his doorbell, shuffling my feet anxiously in the meantime.

When he answers the door, two things become clear to me: First, and probably foremost, he's definitely dressed in a...different way from me--cut-offs and a vest with nothing but his fur showing underneath. I blush just from seeing so much of him compared to his normal outfits.

Secondly, this is going to be one of those parties. Another reason I avoided parties was to avoid the club scene, because I was, and am, convinced you can't meet someone you'd want a real relationship with at such a place.

And only now am I realizing that I want to do the same with Alex...

"Hey, foxie. Dressed a little conservative, eh?" The skinniest jeans I can fit on my legs and an old band tee? I'm dressed like the preacher's daughter to be sure.

"I didn't think this would be one of those parties." I can't help the frown and attached hesitation that creep into my demeanor. My hanging tail only tells tales of about a third of all my doubt and reluctance.

He just shakes his head. "It isn't like that. I just enjoy dancing at stuff like this. Besides," he offers me a paw, "I'm going with you. This is for you, okay? You tell me when enough is enough."

I internally sigh as I take the paw. For his sake I smile. There can be no happy ending to this.

I'm doing it anyway.

***

I won't tell the fox anything stupid like "I told you so," but there comes a time when you know for sure you were absolutely right to be hesitant.

When we got here two hours ago, the booming music immediately stood out compared to the rest of the quiet neighborhood.

Were that not enough, when we walked up, Alex got immediately felt up more than an entire fabric store's inventory. It took me clearing my throat to dislodge the black wolf from my date. Is that a fair label? Hm...

No one was checking people at the door, but when we walked in, a coyote who I would guess is the host saw Alex and I and immediately got us drinks. It begins.

Alex didn't hesitate to gulp and subsequently giggle loudly, and I sniffed it, cringed, and took a sip. Peach schnapps if I'm not mistaken. More of a guess than experience, though.

It tasted fine. I could feel the world spin a little every time I lifted it to my muzzle, but it was fine. I stopped after that cup. Besides tripping over my tail once, I held it down.

Now? Well, now I'm sitting in a corner looking broody while Alex literally dances right in the center of the dance floor. The floor itself was well suited for that, as the entire room had been stripped of furniture but for a stereo and speakers in the corner. Lights of every color shone from various spots all over the house, dousing the guests in a hushed scene that seemed almost intimate but for the other guests and booming music.

At more than one point, some big musclehead walks up to Alex and grinds behind him, working twinges of not just jealousy from me.

He got me to dance at first, but I quit after the same thing had happened to me. It is admittedly not the hardest mistake to make in a place like this. Everyone's scents are overlapping and competing to be top scent amongst all of the rest of the sweat and scent of sexual tension.

I won't be surprised if I see more than one person committing a walk of shame tomorrow.

The same black wolf from earlier moves up for his turn to shmooze the fox. I can see him walk up, offer a few words, and after the song ends, start dragging him somewhere else. I fumble my paws before looking down at them. Obviously this is that sort of party, and if I didn't expect this kind of end, then I am just too dumb for one night.

A pretty damn important night.

As they disappear out of sight, someone saunters up to me, notices where I was looking, and immediately puts it on. A skunk, I turn to see. "Awww, now what's a pretty fox like you doing here in the corner looking so sad?"

I don't know how much of my thought process shows up in my eyes. Could he see it all, he'd see flashes of sorrow and loneliness, desperation and disappointment. I lost my date to some guy with a bigger dick. I think. Sigh.

Well screw that. I'm going to enjoy myself now. I need the opportunity to drop thoughts of my past relationship and now I guess of Alex, here it presents itself. I grab his paw, get tugged up, and leave with him to dance.

I never go to many parties, so I can't judge whether or not I'm great at dancing. I will say that the line Alex gave me was loaded, though.

The "dance" was pretty much grind-central.

***

Another hour later, I end my deal with the skunk before we can even kiss or exchange numbers in order to search for Alex. As I walk through the house I get the feeling that a lot of people didn't have the thought in their mind that they were still in a house with other people. My sensitive ears fold in disgust until I catch a familiar scent.

Layered with the established smells of musk and alcohol came the fox's unique scent, piney and fresh despite how many other scents tried to pile onto it. I come to a door, hear relative quiet, and knock. "Occupied!" Comes a chirped giggle.

I'm more than certain, even standing out here like I am, that he's toasted. And that's putting it light. I frown to myself, shuffle my paws, and decide to enter anyway. He gasps and Blackie growls at me. "We're leaving, Alex."

They're pretty cuddly looking, and only Alex looks very disheveled. Alex giggles again, stumbling goofily to try and untangle himself from Blackie. He slurs something about calling him, and nearly falls onto me when he makes it to the door. This will be a long night.

I wrap an arm around him, put his paw on my shoulder, and we leave. I get a few curious looks as we get to the front door, but most of them turned understanding when they got in range of hearing. Alex is muttering and giggling to himself like he can hold a conversation with himself. Maybe he is. It's this side of people I dread. This is why I didn't want to be here.

We manage to get outside, and something about the environment sobers him up a little. Or maybe he realizes that he's been talking out loud and stops. My last drink was that first one at the door three hours ago, and I feel more than fine now. I can imagine how only a few would wreck someone small like the fox in my arms, though.

A block and some struggle to get his keys out of his pocket later, we're inside his apartment again. He tells me where his bedroom is with more laughter, like he told me a joke. In trying to keep him from falling over, I can't tell if I'm frustrated or angry or maybe even indifferent. Not enough time to hear myself think, I guess.

When he's in bed with a glass of water and some bread I found in his kitchen, I have him on the road to recovery. I think. He never tells me he feels nauseous or anything, so I thank my lucky stars I don't need to do much more than make sure he doesn't get up and fall over somewhere.

"Aaron?" He's sitting, leaned against his headboard with a dreamy expression. He reaches for one of my paws. "I..." he looks off restlessly, "I think I...really like you."

If this were any other story, we'd make out and probably have sex. I can't lie about him looking and sounding absolutely adorable during his confession.

But this isn't any other story. I'm not that confident. I didn't even let that skunk at the party kiss me. Instead, I feel this wave of helpless emotion come over me as he says his piece. He ends his statement with a silly smile and silence for a while.

He seems happy enough with it off his chest. Before I can say anything back, he sinks beneath his covers again. He gives me one last wink that apparently takes it out of him, then closes his eyes.

It isn't the fact that he confessed feelings as I was taking care of him. I feel for him, too. Most likely.

I don't think we've seen each other enough to know much about one another, and maybe that's my complex. Can you really like somebody you know so little about?

I stay at his bedside for a while, stuck in thought, before I can pull myself away. I turn off the light to his room, and silently depart. I take a key with me to lock his door when I get outside of his apartment, then decide to keep it until we can see one another again.

I start the trek home, stuck with two ideas in my head. One, and most obviously, he was drunk. I haven't been around enough drunk people to know whether to take to heart things they say until they're sober.

Floating right there with that thought is the phrase in vino veritas; "In wine, there is truth." More true feelings than not are probably bound to come out when an inebriated fox can't think hard enough to censor.

When I get back to the apartment, I find the quiet and darkness that tells me it's late and that Davis is already asleep. I yawn in the doorway before making my way to my room, seeing that I have passed the threshold for calling tomorrow today, and doze off before I can even register hitting a pillow.

March 30, 2014

Sunday

For the days following the party, all I could think about was what Alex had said. We've never even traded phone numbers or anything for me to be able to talk to him. I'm not sure I want to confront him with his confession, anyway. Maybe he forgot?

For spring break, it was decided a while ago I would have to visit home. I recount some of the stuff my mom said as I sit in the laundromat. "Remember to bring back some fun college stories!" "College is where you find the attractive ones. Believe me."

Now, of course, that could've applied to any of my previous college years, but I guess something about me being a junior told my mom something fun would finally happen.

As if this can be considered to be fun. Another glance at the spinning machine. Page turn. Sigh. Sometimes I wonder if there is a God. Maybe it's fun for him to make me find all the wrong guys. He sure seems to like messing with storybook characters.

My eyes are on the page of my literary class novel, but I was far from focusing on it. My thoughts are on that fox.

That drunk, whorish, attractive, tantalizing fox. Sigh.

And what am I doing here? Telling myself that I need to do laundry before I take an hour plane ride home. Trying to convince myself that I don't have the hidden intent of maybe catching him before he leaves on his own spring break plans.

I know I haven't told this story yet, and I guess it's a weird place to, but now that I don't have anything else to narrate on, why not reflect on my past?

I don't mean to sound conceited, but freshman year, I was hot. I knew it. Everyone knew it. That isn't to say I don't think the same now, but it was different. A lot of people that year looked awkward or felt awkward to be around. Not me.

I purposely wore some pretty fruity outfits whenever I was in public just to make sure it wasn't ever a doubt to everyone that I was on that list and that maybe it'd be cool if I could find a relationship. Or, because I didn't know what I wanted, probably just some sex. Weird that being so young made me so fearless. Maybe stupid is the right word.

Well...I found a relationship before I found anything else. Looking back, I'm confident he was screwing around behind my back. It also doesn't help that I told him he could after our first few dates. Anyways, he was this wolf. Classic theatrical pairing, right?

The memories are frustrating enough to make me growl in frustration and tear up if I don't have something else to distract me.

To everyone else, we probably seemed like we were in a healthy relationship. We laughed together and held hands out in public. He was always bragging about the latest gift he got me.

We weren't. He made me have ungodly amounts of sex with him. Maybe alone that isn't terrible, but he was abusive, and one of those guys who tried to "own" their significant other. It got to the point where the prospect of sex makes me timid and significantly annoyed, even to today.

I severely regret my history with him.

But I also feel like I'm smoothing over details that can help you understand. When I first saw him, I got the impression he could help me. I thought that he could help me understand being gay, because he looked like he'd at least been around the block. I guess I thought he would be dominant too, which was attractive; such was my mistaken thinking.

But I also 'knew' that I wouldn't willingly go all the way with him. I thought that nothing could ever convince me to give myself up that way. At least not to him. I was convinced of that. I couldn't communicate that to him.

I should've prefaced this with the fact that I don't generalize all tops as assholes or abusive, but he was both. It was always a joke between me and my friends that I would stumble into my first relationship someway like that simply because I allow people to walk on me.

It...it was funnier when it was still a joke.

Before I start crying in a laundromat, I'll finish this with the fact that I dated him from before winter break to right after spring break, just over a year ago. The only thing that tethered me back to reality enough to end it was my sister. God save me if she ever stops talking sense into my head.

Returning to the present, I sniffle and have to pan back a page or two to recover my already-hazy thought process. The literary stuff numbs the pain for a while. Books are usually about heart-break anyways. Some of them lie and allow their characters to fix things. Every story needs some degree of unfixable.

The persistent feeling of longing for someone, just anyone, almost makes me lose it. I close the book and hold my face in my paws. A deep breath. Exhale. Ping!

Shut up, washer. I'm having a moment.

I get up exasperatedly and zombie through getting the load into the dryer. Only one load, too. Davis left on Saturday, hence why he wasn't available for me to complain to on Friday.

Basically I have nothing to look forward to but a plane ride and my parents. They're fine and all, but let's just say they never approved of the wolf-who-shall-go-unnamed, but before and after constantly did nothing but talk about how I need a man in my life. I wonder what they'd think of my most recent story.

My roiling thoughts bring in the random fantasies, too. I look at my paws briefly and almost tear up again as I see paws in mine, and I can't even describe how much I don't want to have a repeat. These feelings can't be worth the off-chance I can find someone to keep.

A while later I'm finishing up, folding things and getting ready to head back to my lonely home. At more than one point, I scent, or maybe imagine scenting, Alex. I look up with high hopes only to be left looking at some new person coming into the laundromat.

Remembering the party on my way back, I make a sad connection. I have to wonder if part of the reason I pulled Alex from that wolf was just because of how reminiscent the whole situation was. My ears don't raise from my head for a while.

I'm startled with a tear that falls from my cheek onto the clothes I'm hauling. I just need a nap and a shower. Maybe not even that order. And maybe not just one of both.

March 31, 2014

Monday

Ever since this one incident at the airport, pretty much every fox is on the security's shortlist.

Well, there's been more than one incident, so I guess it's somewhat understandable. One of them involved some fox who thought he could line the insides of his ears with bomb parts. It almost worked, but his ears flopped like a collie's, and I guess he was dropping rivets and stuff that didn't stay where they should've. I laughed the last time I read the news article about it.

Then there was another one, a fennec, who thought it would be genius to instead sneak C4 in his ears. He almost got onto the plane, but then people put it together that a fox with satellite dishes for ears should not be nearly deaf. I'm just glad they didn't blow off. That sounds horrifying.

Anyways, every fox has to go through "additional screening" that they are all coincidentally "randomly chosen for." Yeah. It's all just bullshit. Were they not claiming it all to be random, though, I can imagine the press all over the species discrimination.

Thankfully, having nothing hidden on me cut the extra thirty minutes of security down to maybe five. It probably helps that I'm through here enough that every guard at least knows me a little bit. The perks of taking plane rides from a tiny airport, I guess.

Then came the actual flight. Airlines have actually started offering special tablets when people get on that help keep pressure from being an issue. Being that I've seen deaf furs fall over for no reason, I'll argue that going without some sort of precaution would be all kinds of stupid dangerous.

Exhausted from inner dialogue and nightmares of that wolf (curse you, flashbacks), I quickly fall asleep on the plane.

Napping seems to be a really easy way to pass long flights though. I wake up as we're descending, and it's likely only because I could feel pangs in my ears.

Landing, pulling up, baggage claim, and a quick pick-me-up at some nondescript airport sandwich shop later, I'm out and waiting for someone to pick me up. I plan to stay until Thursday of this break, then maybe do something with friends Friday.

During the course of this week, however, I've gotta get myself into gear. I'm almost out of junior year. I'm also almost out of emotional limbo. Hopefully.

Being caught up in my own recap keeps me from dodging the paw that hits my shoulder. "Hey Aaron! Still stuck in your thoughts, eh?"

I roll my eyes. Typical sis. "Hey, V. Thanks for getting me. I didn't really want to ride a taxi."

She giggles, turning around a little. "Oh, what, one of those?" She purposely points out of one of the worst looking ones, compounded by the big black bear leaning against it looking more ready to fight than drive a car.

I shudder. "Yeah, no thanks."

She sticks her tongue out and takes my only bag to stuff it in the trunk of her small car. We get in and about halfway out of the pickup area before the curiosity bubbles too high for her to handle. "So...anything new I get to know about before mom and dad?"

Of course. I roll my eyes. "What's your obsession with being the first to know?"

"So there is something!" Her eyes are beaming.

I fail to hold back my sigh, but I think it sounded more out of defeat than for my news. "Yeah."

V comes close to squealing in delight. "Yes! Now, let's see... Is it a boy?"

I shake my head. "Being two years younger than you doesn't make everyone I'm with a boy."

"A man?"

"On second thought, boy sounded better."

We share a laugh. "Is he cute?"

I scoff. "What, you think I have no standards?" Despite driving, she gives me this look. "Point taken. He was hot, though."

She shrugs. "Fair enough. So what is he?" I wonder if she noticed the 'was.'

"He's another fox."

She nods. "I'm surprised you didn't tell us about this before now. You could've brought him along."

I shuffle uncomfortably, my face starting to color a little. "Uhm...That's the thing... We're not really together." She looks confused, but doesn't ask until I elaborate on my own. "It's not like he's straight or anything. We almost kissed. He's just been really quiet after this party we went to."

We continue driving for a while. My sister knows me really well. Sometimes better than I know myself. "So, let's say he snaps out of it. Would you do anything with him? Or would you want to know him better?"

I think to myself for a while. Before she can think I'm blowing off her questions, though, I remark, "I'd probably want to wait. Believe me, though, that's a tough call to make."

She smiles and spares a look at me. "I'm really happy for you, Aaron." I almost manage to utter a thank you before she says, "I know there's more bothering you, though."

What can I say? She knows me too well. "Well... I wanted to talk to you because you would know what to say, but now it sounds stupid in my head."

She waits for a while. "If you think telling me will help, then you should. You know I won't ever judge you."

I'd guess about ten minutes pass before I blurt out, "I'm afraid of relationships after Blake." Even saying his name makes me shudder.

Viola offers a paw. I take it and squeeze as if just doing that will keep me from breaking down in her car. It's a while before she says anything. "Do you remember when you hated your Kindergarten teacher, and after the first week of school you came to me to tell me about how bad she was?" I nod. "Mom was right there too, if you remember. She let us talk, but when you walked away, do you remember what her advice was?"

I'm lost in memories for too long, frowning as I fail to remember. "What'd she say?"

"She told you to separate it from the school. She told you lots of bad things could happen at school, but if you look negatively at all of it, then you'll be miserable. Blame it on the teacher, and move on."

I let that soak in for a while. It isn't anything I didn't know. It isn't even new.

Sometimes, though, it takes a gentle reminder. "Thanks, Viola."

She snickers. "What else am I here for?"

April 4, 2014

Friday

"Oh, hey! You picked up!"

An uncertain giggle comes from the other end. "Uhm, yeah. What are you calling about?"

I shuffle my feet despite him not really being able to tell. "Well, I uh... I wanted to set up some sort of get together, you know? We haven't seen each other since last Friday."

"I guess not." Silence. "What were you thinking?"

I bite my lip. Ball in my court? Let's do this!"How about the campus coffee shop?"

"Isn't that a little small?"

I start to feel doubt swirl in my chest. Stop it. You can do this. "It's just a little talking. There's always our apartments for if there's more than that, you know." I almost slap a paw to my head. A little more innuendo slipped in there than I wanted, but it seems futile anyway.

He sighs and after a while, quietly tells me he'll be there at two tomorrow. Then he hangs up.

Before the surging tide of overwhelming doubt has the opportunity to drown me, I manage to put the phone down and find something else to distract me. He's just being weird because he knows the last I saw of him wasn't his best. He'll come around.

"So you never finished telling me about your spring break," Davis calls from somewhere over my shoulder.

I laugh a little to myself. I walk over to his room and sit on his bed to retell my personal revelation (the wolf part even Davis didn't know about me), a couple of hikes my family took me on, and even how my mom told me she appreciated anyone who would room with me, especially someone like Davis who was so nice and helpful.

He blushes and tries hiding it with hanging stuff up. "Did she really say that?"

I nod, then realize he isn't looking. "Yeah. She knows, just as much as you do, that I'm an emotional train wreck. It means a lot that you're always here."

He turns, still looking bashful. "You mean that?"

I stand up and hug the silly bird. "Yes, Davis. You're my reminder that not everyone is crazy in my life."

We laugh for a good while before I sit back down and we hang out until he's done unpacking. He had done significantly more than I did since he was at his parent's place for a lot longer.

April 5, 2014

Saturday

The stage is set. Now is when I tell you (unnecessarily) that I am more than nervous can describe. Rioting butterflies in my stomach seems to be the appropriate analogy.

I can't help but feel like my life can change here a lot, and I'm not sure how I feel leaving that power in someone else's hands. I guess a part of that is my anxiety with relationships so far. Another part has got to be the fact that I can't stop thinking about Alex in that respect. It doesn't seem very fair to him.

As I walk into the coffee shop, I tell myself, again, that I'm not allowing him to decide anything on my behalf. This is more about seeing where he is. If we're on the same page, cool.

If we're not...then this will make for a short story to tell.

Peering about, I find myself to be the first of our pair to have arrived. I order a small drink drowned in too many flavors to still be coffee. Soon I probably won't remember I have it for any reason other than a paw warmer.

I take a seat in a corner of the shop, determined to have my say, but also hoping I don't yell and get kicked out of here.

It's not a long wait for the other fox to arrive, and when he sees me, he gives a very shy wave. Then he does this cute stutter-step in obvious dilemma between going to me and getting something from the admittedly attractive barista.

Or maybe that's just because he's a wolf. Stop that.

Anyway, he ends up going for the latter, but all he ends up buying is some sort of pastry. I don't catch sight of it until he sits with me.

Across a small table where only two people fit, there's a unique sort of tension. At first you feel like you should be able to confess everything really easily, because, you know, they're right there.

But then you're also waiting for them to say something, and all the while the two of you are giving off this awkward air complete with glances back and forth. Just being close to him, I feel this flume of heat rush to my head. It isn't quite the same as blushing or passing out, but it's almost a surge of passion. Or at least that's what I want it to become.

He ends up starting anyway. He leans in onto the table, leaving room for cute stuff like holding his paw, but one look at his face sees a solemn intensity. He clears his throat. "So try to understand where I want to come from and where I was coming from, okay?" I nod politely. He looks down and takes a breath. "I think it's obvious we both like one another, but I have a sort of...problem with that.

"I don't know if it's just hard for me to accept or think that I can change or something, but I know that above everything else, I really like you." A passion lights in his eyes when they meet mine again. He gulps. "But I've never been able to like someone honestly before. Through college I've been very..." he bites his lip, "promiscuous."

That hangs in the air for a while. I can't say I'm really surprised, but not from a "he's a fox, so duh" standpoint. I seem to recall odd statements and a few clues I'd noticed at his apartment. I nod again, not really smiling or frowning. It isn't until a positive-thinking smiley fox like me starts trying to go stoic that I realize just how much I do grin all the time.

His gaze darts from me to the table to his paws to over my shoulder to his paws to-- "I don't know if I can handle a relationship."

Oh. Rioting butterflies have stormed the Bastille.

Undeterred, I dare to ask, "Why not?"

His eyes focus into mine as if to memorize their color. "I don't think I can leave the partying and...well...what comes with the party, behind." He bites his lip randomly to stop a flood from washing out our position. "Y-you're a really nice guy, but I get this feeling," he stops, swallows, tries to keep the breaking out of his voice, then continues, "I can tell you wouldn't want us to be physical. At least not anytime soon."

I have to think out my next statement over the next couple of minutes, sipping my hot drink enough to burn before I come to a final way to say something. I mean, I have been trying to soul search and figure out why I'm so against sex, but really, it's all in my head. "Not right away, no. Being with you means more to me than that. And I would hope it means more than that to you, too." My final words were little more than whispered. Butterflies have got the king in a guillotine.

He bites his lip again, but it fails to keep the tears off his face this time. He quivers a little and has to look away from me. I feel a pang of guilt in my heart for making such a beautiful fox cry, but the feeling passes as more time goes by that he doesn't speak. I start to feel more hurt, in fact, until he finally composes himself and whimpers, "I don't know if a relationship is something I should go through with." The sincerity in his face as he finishes his statement is nothing short of remarkable if for no reason other than how blunt it is.

I can't argue with it either. "Are you sure?"

He whimpers pathetically, face hidden in his paws. "I thought about this all break. T-the problem isn't you." He looks up to me again. "I'm leaving after I graduate."

Oh... "I..." We agree in that moment of silence. It makes sense, though. Who wouldn't be getting the hell out of here? "I could've guessed that, I suppose."

He nods sadly. "I'm not staying in America, either. My family is in Siberia."

What? "Siberia?"

"My birth name is Alexei. I came here to get my degrees and go back home. There's more, but..." He sighs. "That's not what matters right now."

I nod. "Do you mind if I tell you what I've thought about this past week?"

He clears his throat. "Actually, I think we should just..." He bites his lip and tears up again. "I don't want to keep going. I feel like you're someone I'd let in too easily."

I'm speechless. They say clichés exist for a reason, but I don't think any about how broken-hearted I feel could ever sum up the feeling.

I watch, numb, as his tears boil over and he stands to leave. Out of defeat or hopelessness or some other third morose emotion, I fail to speak up. I fail to grab his paw. Fail to stand up and tackle him to the floor.

_ And the head comes off, much to the celebrating cheers of the uprising butterflies._

April 26, 2014

Saturday

I catch sight of Alex walking desolately from another flat back to his apartment again. I can't claim I have innocent intentions in sighting him, seeing as how I was only around the area to try to talk to him again. One round wasn't enough, I guess.

Something about seeing him with his tail literally between his legs reminds me of where I find myself.

Here I am about to beg someone to be with me for a few months before he moves away. I watch him a little longer as I recount other facts. At least four, and maybe somewhere around six, even, parties have gone down that I know Alex attended.

Each time, the morning after, I'd catch sight of him much like I see him now. But there's something different about how he walked then. It wasn't a hangover.

He looked so sad. His ears would droop and bounce with his steps like they couldn't hold themselves. He walked with his arms crossed or with a nervous, idle rubbing of one of his shoulders.

And today is no different. It's been weeks that I've watched Alex run himself into the ground, seeming desperate to enjoy himself and becoming miserable for it.

It breaks my heart. But what can I do? Davis tried to say something to the fox, doing me a huge favor by going to one of the parties and asking "innocently" where I was. Apparently, he didn't do much but stop dancing and start looking really sad. Davis told me the fox said he had no clue.

I gather the bravery to walk to him. I get to him at his apartment door, and before he can get his key to the door, I clear my throat. "Hey, Alex."

He hunches a little more, suddenly looking like he is ducking under something. "Aaron?" I wait until he eventually turns and faces me. "Can we wait to talk?"

"It's been a couple weeks."

He looks down. "I want to hold off." He looks to me again. "Please?" His last word was shaky and close to tears, I could tell.

I sigh, defeated. I guess I'm done here. "Fine." I walk away briskly, trying desperately to convince myself that I don't need to cry. Don't need to feel sad.

Good god. I feel awful.

Well, we made it through! This has been part 1! Things get better and worse in the next part, but mostly worse. There's some nice along the way, I promise.

Not super happy about the editing and formatting that survived its way over here. I checked as much as I could, so hopefully nothing is egregious.

Hope you enjoyed! Throw me a watch if you're in for next round! A rating if you think the story has some hope! These things keep me going. <3