Decisions

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A high school senior makes his decision.
10.3k words
4.71
153.9k
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Part 1 of the 12 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 09/01/2016
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Holter
Holter
284 Followers

I stared at the crisp sheet of paper in front of me, my eyes raking over the blocky font, my mind not digesting a single word. My throat slowly began to close up and I blinked. My eyes trailed up towards the man in front of me who peered back at me through his thick rimmed glasses. "Well? Have you reached a decision yet, Mr. Williams?" He asked, with a hint of malice. His tone was a far cry from how I usually heard him. He was jovial and festive, always happy and ready to crack a joke when he saw me. I didn't blame him for his mannerisms this time around. I'm pretty sure he disagreed heavily with what I was doing. "Have you even read the form yet?" He asked again, impatiently.

I opened my mouth to give out a snarky retort before I promptly closed it, swallowing the vitriol that was about to spew from my mouth. "One more second, please... sir." I said, forcefully. "It's just... my parents let me make this decision myself and it's... it's... i'm weighing all my options." I wondered how the words managed to tumble out of my mouth. I stared at the form once more, knowing that if I went through with this, battle lines would be drawn, paths would be carved, and my life would probably be changed permanently. I wish I was exaggerating, but this time around, I don't think I was.

Sports scholarship for football and hockey? Probably already withdrawn.

Most of my "friends"? Probably running for the hills as I sit here.

Social standing in my own community? Probably going to be destroyed too.

I stared down at my paper once more, my high school transfer form. Why would I even want to transfer high schools in my senior year? Instead of having an amazing final year at Roosevelt High School, complete with sports, academics, girls, parties, and celebrations, i'd get thrown in the deep end, forced to juggle incompetent teachers, strangers for classmates, and appalling sports teams. A part of me just wanted to rip up the form, beg for leniency, and go back to my normal life.

But I couldn't do that, because if I did, I wouldn't have them. Them being my best friends. You might ask why i'd throw everything away to be with them. Well, you see, i've known them since I was young. Well... i've only known one since I was young. Everyone else joined our little group of misfits along the way but that didn't diminish the fact that they were all family to me.

They were the people who stuck by me through thick and thin. The ones I could rely on to have my back and the ones I knew I could always lean on in case of trouble. The ones who didn't deserve anything that ever happened to them. I felt disgust and anger bubbling in the pit of my stomach like magma. This was wrong, terribly wrong. There was nothing even wrong with them! Well, except the fact that they weren't... exactly human.

There was Ricky Ortega, the giant. Eight feet tall, tanned skin, and black curly hair. I met him when I was just entering fourth grade and his family moved from Los Angeles to San Francisco after some people burnt down his home. His family wanted a fresh start. We became instant friends and I learned that the phrase gentle-as-a-giant couldn't have been truer with the Ortegas. His mother was a complete saint and his dad a hard worker. Ricky was the same way, a little mix of both, unless he was playing on the offensive line in football, that is. Then it was just Mean Ricky. Even taking that into account, it was hard to see why anyone would ever want to hurt them.

Lucy Bohannon, the arachne, was also an extremely close friend of mine as well. Eight legs, pale silver hair, smoldering grey eyes, and an ear that was always open to me. I could confide in her about anything and she gave the best advice. We met in eighth grade when she transferred to our school after her family just wanted to get a new change of scenery from the snowy regions of New Hampshire. Not really sure it was a good choice because she was bullied often in the eighth grade. It boggled my mind why. Sure, she had the odd habit of leaving cobwebs everywhere, but she was always a bit timid, shy, soft spoken, and very nice, never bothering anybody.

She was the polar opposite of Jasmine Coutu. Jazz, as she likes to go by, had the upper body of a slender woman with auburn hair and green eyes. From her wide hips down, it's just one big, long tale that was covered in glimmering scales like diamonds. Her scales had a deep green hue to it, rippling whenever her thick tail moved around. She was sassy, loud, funny as all hell, and never afraid to give a venom-laced retort (pun intended). We met in the sixth grade when I was paired with her for a science project. She was always a bit fringe on our little band of misfits but still a part of the group none the less.

Then there was... her. Stasi. You could've said she was my sister. Anastasia "Stasi" Sokolov was my best friend and had been my best friend since we first met 12 years ago back in my first day of kindergarten.

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was sitting down, huddled all to myself and building a house out of legos. My mom was talking with the teacher and the other parents, leaving me all to myself. I was sitting there about to finish my masterpiece of a house when a little girl with her raven hair in pigtails and watery blue eyes sat herself in front of me staring at my face. I had seen her getting consoled by her mom as I walked into class. Her parents had taken her early to the kindergarten class just so she could make friends before anyone else but she was still ignored. Not by me!

"Hello." She said, in a pretty heavy Russian accent.

"Hi." I replied.

"That's a pretty house." She said, before sticking out her hand. "I'm Stasi."

I remember how I felt knowing I was going to shake her hand. I felt like a grown up. My elation at shaking someone's hand wasn't even diminished by the fact that her hand was peculiarly cold. "I'm Christopher. But my parents call me Chris." I said.

"Can I play legos with you, Chris?" She said.

"Ok." I said. I didn't know then that my answer surprised her. Her look of shock was replaced by a beautiful smile that was so wide, you could see her developing fangs poking out. Yes. She was a vampire.

It was on that day that our friendship was born. Over the years of elementary school, we grew close, so much that our parents became acquaintances. It wasn't long before our parents became extremely close as well, with both of our dads always going off on their trips to the golf course or our moms always chatting on the phone. If I was never home, my parents knew I was over at Stasi's house, and if she was never home, her parents knew she was at my house.

I stared at the paper in front of me. The anger that was bubbling in me was reaching a breaking point. All of this was because of some stupid legislator who decided that "monsters" (who were in all actuality just regular people), were dangerous to society and had to be separate from "normal" people for their "own good." The new law, the Definition of the Treatment of Other Species Act (DTOSA) called for a separation between monsters and humans. That meant they were forced to attend separate schools, separate medical facilities, pretty much everything. You name it, they got it.

That idiot that drafted it probably didn't even pay attention in history class. I thought. But it wasn't just him that was the racist. This wasn't a first time thing. "Monster-people" were always considered the dregs of society, inferior to the "humans."

I hated just thinking about how unfair it was that Stasi never got any playing time on the volleyball team because she was a vampire (even though she outplayed most of her teammates during practices), or how Jazz's dream of becoming a doctor were constantly derailed because the local hospital kept denying her internship in favor of humans.

The only real exception was Ricky on the football team. Coach Freddy, our head coach, and a veteran of the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s found no reason to not play Ricky on the basis of what he was despite pressure from the principal. Good for him. Ricky was the best tight end on the football team.

"Mr. Williams. Have you read the form yet?" Principal Weathers demanded, his patience wearing thin at my delaying. My anger reached its breaking point. Why should I be forced to ditch my friends because of what they were? Sure, I had human friends too, but i'm pretty sure they all secretly hated me for the group of close friends I had. No, they weren't just close friends, they were family. They were my family, and I wasn't going to abandon them.

"Yes. I have read it. I've reached my decision." I uncapped the pen and scribbled in my virtually unreadable and loopy signature at the bottom of the page. "I'd like to thank you for the wonderful years at your high school but I've decided to trans-.."

"Get out of my office." He said loudly, cutting off my spiel. I was more than happy to accommodate.

"Yes, sir." I said, booking it out of his office. As I closed the door softly behind me, I felt a sense of relief. I had sat on the decision for too long and made it in the heat of the moment. I wanted to decompress. I wanted to leave outright and go home to play video games with Ricky but I knew I couldn't. I had to go say good bye to someone first. I walked through the empty administration building until I got to the front desk where the receptionist sat. Some say she was at the school for as long as it was built and I couldn't disagree more. Her black hair was already starting to gray at some parts and her face had a little bit of wrinkles to it, but she looked like she was in her early 40s.

"Hi, Mrs. Speers." I said. Even though I tried to say it brightly and cheerfully, my voice had a dull, melancholic undertone to it. After having run errands for her for freshman and sophomore year, I had been an assistant in the office for the better part of a year when I was a junior. I had wanted to be an assistant in the office again for senior year, but looks like that wasn't happening with me not even being a student at the school anymore.

"Hello, Christopher! It's good to see you. How has your Summer been?" She said.

"It's been good. Stasi's family took me to go with them on their yearly trip to Moscow. We were able to see the Moscow Coven. It's such a nice place. I'd go again if I could." I replied.

"You and 'Stasi', huh?" She gave me a knowing look, but thankfully, didn't pursue the subject. "How'd the meeting with Principal Weathers go?"

I swallowed, looking at her slightly guilty. I knew I had to just rip off the band-aid. I was blunt, straight to the point. "I'm transferring."

"I knew that's what you would've done. It's been the talk of the high school ever since 'D-Toss' passed. Roosevelt High School Star Quarterback transfers schools to be with friends. I can imagine the headlines now." She said, a wistful smile on her face. "I would've liked to have had you as an office assistant for senior year, but I can't say that I don't admire your decision to do what you believe in and stand by your convictions. Did you say goodbye to Coach Freddy, yet?"

I nodded. "I said goodbye to him on the last day of Summer practice before dead period. He said it was a pleasure to coach me for three years and he hopes that I do good things with the rest of my life. That was about it, I suppose."

"Ah, my husband was never one for long speeches. Trust me, he's proud of you, Chris. You remind him of himself, sometimes. He told me so himself." Mrs. Speers wistfully smiled at me, before dabbing at her eye with a tissue. "Oh look at me. You stay here any longer and you'll start making me cry. You go on now, Christopher. Have fun at your new high school. Enjoy the time with your friends. Make sure you visit often."

My throat got tight and it became difficult to swallow. I didn't like being emotional in public, but this was an exception. I stepped forward to hug her, which she promptly returned. "I'll visit you every week, I promise. What kind of Office Assistant would I be if I never ever showed up for work?"

She nodded, patted my back, broke the hug, and pointed to the door. Just as I left the high school, I heard her speak to me behind me. It was so quiet I almost missed it.

"Never, ever change, Chris."

Chapter 2:

A little lesson on sports. According to sports terminology, a 'trap game' is a game played against an opponent generally deemed to be easy to beat. As a result, the person may not have prepared as thoroughly as they would for any other opponent, which resulted in the team that normally would've won suffering a loss.

That would make this game the trappiest of all trap games in the history of trap.

"Fuck.. fuck.. no.. no.. no!" I whispered to myself as the kick returner on screen scampered past my players, shedding tackles as if it were a Lamia shedding their skin. I desperately tried to perform some kind of damage control, anything. I just needed one tackle made. Sadly, the player (Devin Hester) on the screen dove into the endzone for a touchdown, ending the game 28 to 24 and deflating any chance I had of winning.

I resisted the urge to chuck my remote as hard as I could at the TV when I heard Ricky to the right of my bed roaring with laughter and jubilation. "Good touchdown... jackass." I said, with gritted teeth. He did this every single fucking time. He always trails near the end and by some miracle, whether it be a hail mary or a fluke of a kick return, always ends up scoring and winning the game.

"Don't be so sore, amigo. Maybe you'll win next time... but probably not." Ricky said with a massive grin as he sat up to look at me, the king-size blanket falling away. With his curly hair and bright facial expressions, you could've mistaken him for a Mexican Santa's elf... if Santa's elves were eight feet tall.

"Screw you, Ricky." I retorted with a slight hint of venom. "That last play was a fluke. I had you beat." Of course, I was a naturally competitive person. I didn't like losing at all, especially to this guy. Well... there is one person I never really minded losing at video games to. It had to be Stasi. There was just something about how she jubilantly cheered that made any disgruntled attitude disappear into thin air.

"Nah, man. That was the real deal. Complete skill. You're just trash... unless you want to prove it. Uno mas?" He asked with a cocky grin, holding up the XBox controller. It looked comically tiny in his massive hand. I wondered how he managed to manipulate the buttons. With how often he came over, I should've just ended up buying one of those modified controllers designed for giants. I would have, but those are expensive and I wasn't ready to shell out a couple hundred just to give this guy another edge in Madden.

I shook my head, reaching over to my nightstand to grab my cellphone. I wasn't going to take his bait, no matter how tantalizing the prospect of actually winning sounded. "No, i'm done. You can pop in whatever game you want. I'm not trying to lose any more games than I have to." I said, my irritation at Ricky already beginning to dissipate. It was just a game after all.

Ricky shrugged and laid back down on his spot on the floor, going online to search for another player to antagonize. The spot where he sat on the floor was specifically designated as 'Ricky's Spot'. It was where he sat, played, and slept. It became his spot after the seventh grade. He had hit his growth spurt and when he sat on my bed, the metal frame buckled under his weight and broke.

I opened up my phone, tapping out a text and sending it.

Hey what's up! we still on for tomorrow? X

"Who're you texting?" Ricky asked, looking over at me. I looked up from my phone. His game still hadn't loaded. "Stasi." I replied. Ricky's face morphed into a smile. "Oh... 'Anna'... right." He said. I was the only one that called her Stasi other than her family, and even then, that was rare. Everyone else called her Anna.

I looked at him, puzzled. "Yes, Ann-... hang on one second." The buzz of my cellphone caught my attention and I opened the text. Her reply was fast.

The sky. :P jk. I'm at Lucy's house with jazz. Yes, everybody is still on for tomorrow! No one is flaking! Xx

I smiled at the last bit. I hadn't seen Stasi ever since we got back from Moscow a week ago, and I was already missing her. I tapped out a quick reply and erased it before tapping out another one and pressing send.

It's a date! Can't wait to see you. :) X

Her reply came back at the speed of light.

Can't wait to see you 2! Going to have to stop texting bc we're watching a movie and lucy hates it when i'm on the phone, even though she knows it's you. <3 Xx

I closed my phone, putting it back on my nightstand. As I turned around, I noticed Ricky staring at me with his stupid I-Know-And-See-All grin on his face. "What?" I asked. "Nothing, bro. Just glad you made your decision today, is all." I shrugged.

"You guys are my family. I couldn't just let you guys get away from me. Someone needs to look after your stupid ass, y'know." I said. Ricky's grin faded away but his face was still etched with the ghost of a smile. "I don't get you. That can't be the only reason." He asked.

I raised my eyebrow. Now I was confused. "What do you mean?" Ricky blinked and looked down in slight embarrassment. I knew what that meant. I've known him for so long that I knew what every little piece of body language meant in any of my friends. The way he looked, the way he grew tight lipped said something. It said that he had said too much. "Ricky... what did you mean?" I repeated.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I mean... Anna was a grande part of your decision making process, right?" Of course she was. Every decision I made in my life was usually accompanied with a thought that went along with: "What would Stasi do?" or "I wonder if Stasi would get mad if she knew I did this." Stasi was my best friend, my confidant, my childhood pal, the one who I trusted the most. We've been through everything together. The high and lows of growing up and we came out closer than brother and sister.

"Yeah. Of course she did. So did Jazz, Lucy, and everyone else. You, though, you were the one that made me not want to transfer. I want you out of my life as soon as possible." I quipped, my ever present grin on my face widening.

The corners of Ricky's mouth upturned in a small smile. "Whatever. Just admit it. You'd miss me the second most if you didn't transfer." He fiddled with his watch on his oversized wrist before looking back up at me. "Don't you think Ana is pretty, Chris?" He asked.

I gaped at Ricky. What the hell kind of question was that? Of course I thought Stasi was pretty. I thought she was gorgeous, even. She had raven hair that flowed all the way down to the middle of her back. Sometimes it was all the way out, sometimes it was in a ponytail, or sometimes it was in a very messy bun. Her shockingly blue eyes were always bright and always conveyed warmth and kindness whenever I saw them. Her body was absolutely phenomenal, curving in all the right places with full breasts. She was absolutely beautiful.

"Yeah, I think she's pretty. Everyone thinks she's pretty. What the hell does this have to do with anything?" I asked, a bit defensively. Ricky slowly looked around the room, at anything except me, rubbing the back of his head again. "I'm just asking, y'know? No need to get all feisty. It's just weird how you and Anna are always close. Why haven't you ever tried to go out with her?"

My eyes widened at that question. I had been asked that question a lot from people that didn't know us well and I usually just shrugged it off. I'd certainly never been asked that from this guy. A part of me wanted to just retort and tell him to stop asking questions and go to sleep, but another part of me digested the question. I've always wondered what it'd be like, being more than just friends. The signs were all there, the way my face lit up more whenever she was around or how my heart would flutter every time she subtly touched me. I liked her far more than the boundaries of our friendship, but that was just it. I just didn't want to risk anything.

Holter
Holter
284 Followers