The Bonding Chronicles Ch. 10

Everyone shook their heads and laughed. At that point, nothing that Andrew and Sara did seemed strange to any of their friends.

Calculus proved to be a breeze in comparison to his Physics class. While he had been accosted by a non-stop barrage of questions through his first period, the teacher seemed to refuse to even acknowledge Andrew's presence in this class. The teacher seemed fatigued, and even his baiting questions to his normal targets seemed somehow less biting or pointed, often missing their mark or proving too easy or too complex to fulfill the itch that the educator possessed.

"Whatever had crawled up Dr. Blake's butt for first period must have died," Seth observed, as the two friends stood outside of the classroom.

"Yeah, he is being really weird today," Andrew added, as they both looked back at the door to the classroom.

The friends parted and headed their separate ways. The halls were busy, and as Andrew wove his way through the throng of students, he found himself happy. The few people who acknowledged him seemed pleasant and often smiled or nodded in his direction. At worse, a few people would just look away, but there was almost always a sense of recognition, which was far better than what Andrew was used to.

Normally, he would wander the halls with a closed detachment, his eyes watching the floor in front of him, never looking above the waist. He had learned a long time ago that making eye contact with people was a sure fire way to draw attention to yourself, and as he walked down the hall admiring the faces of the people around him, he struggled to remember why that was such a bad thing.

He was beginning to wonder how much of people's positive reaction to him was from what he had done, and how much of it was the result of how he carried himself. Andrew was mulling this idea over, when he entered his history class.

Karen was seated behind her desk, studying a sheet of paper that he assumed contained her lesson plan. She looked up at him and he felt her sprite flutter with joy as she smiled at him. He smiled back and then scurried to his normal desk. His cock struggled within his pants against the cloth that restricted it.

Sara was watching the distant trees with her wistful gaze and Andrew found she looked beautiful against the dark exterior.

"Man, it's always cloudy around here. When I heard rumors about Seattle being rainy, I thought it was joke, but I guess that it was a fact." His voice was playful and held a fond tone. Despite how different the weather was from what he was used to, he found he rather enjoyed the slow-moving cloud cover.

He could hear the smile on Sara's face as she spoke, her eyes never leaving the distant trees. "Yeah, you get used to it pretty quick. How you holding up, my little desert flower?"

Andrew chuckled and tried to find what had drawn Sara's attention so completely. "I'm doing great. A little distracted maybe." He chanced a glance at Karen, seeing that she was still studying her paper while shooting furtive glances about the room. "What are you looking at? I can't see anything interesting out there."

Sara laughed, before responding, "The owl is back. I don't know what it is with this time of day, but that thing sure has a fascination with this school." Her amazing vision had spotted the bird shortly after she took her seat. The white bird had stood out on previous days, but today she had found it tucked further back in the trees, shrouded by the gloom of the forest.

Andrew tried to find it but failed, realizing that Sara's natural gifts must be necessary to perceive the strange bird from where it hid.

The bell rang, startling the couple who were still watching the trees intently. While Sara had been distracted for just a moment, it proved to be enough; the bird was gone.

"Damnit," she mumbled, as she looked back at Andrew with frustration in her eyes. He caressed her cheek, and her annoyance faded with his warm consolation.

Karen took roll call like a woman possessed, and fell into her lecture with passion. Andrew never grew tired of listening to her weave her tales and connect the history of the European countries together. Her sweeping tales of treachery and intrigue fascinated him, and partway through class, his pen was racing across his notebook as he struggled to capture her lecture on paper. He was growing frustrated by the limitations of his body, and his inability to capture not just what she said, but his interpretations of what the stories meant.

An idea occurred to him, and as he stopped writing he leaned back in his seat and enjoyed the feeling of his phone growing just a little warmer in his pocket, as his gift went to work. A document was projected within Andrew's mind, and while Karen spoke, her words were captured within the digital file on his phone. Karen paused, giving her students a chance to respond or process what she had just said, and during this time, sections of text would highlight and become annotated, as Andrew's thoughts on the story were recorded for later review.

After class, while everyone packed their bags Sara leaned across and asked Andrew, "What's with the grin?"

Andrew smiled and scanned his notes within his mind as he said, "I'll tell you on our way home."

Sara perked up at the reminder of their shared home. She threw her bag over her shoulder and bounced over to Andrew, to wait for him to finish packing his rucksack.

"Andrew, would you mind staying after class?" Karen's tone was serious and several students looked back as they began leaving the room. Their brief gazes filled with speculation about what kind of trouble the small man had gotten himself into.

Sara kissed him on the cheek and left while calling back, "Meet you at Patches after school?"

"You can't just make up a name for the car like that!" he yelled after her.

"I didn't, Patches did." her voice drifted into the room from the hallway, before being drowned out by the bustling noise of the students outside.

Andrew took up position across from Karen's desk, while she walked over and closed and locked the door behind the last student. He admired how much she had changed, the curves of her body showing through the baggy drape of her matronly dress.

They could sense each other's desire through their bond as Karen retook her seat, her hard nipples pushing out the cloth that was cascading over her ample bosom. She grew wet as she watched Andrew's eyes take in her figure.

"What were you thinking, Andrew?" The accusation in her voice sounded strange when compared to the lust he could feel from her sprite, the two conflicting emotions battling for supremacy in his mind. Andrew was forced to shake his head as his brain struggled to decide which direction to focus in, his cock urging him down a very specific path.

"I had no idea Will was going to attack me again. I thought we had resolved all of that last week."

Karen shook her head in frustration as she responded, "Andrew, why would you instigate him? You are in no position to stand up to a man like that." She was distracted by the wiry muscles that climbed up his arms as he clenched his fists in annoyance at her words. "At least not yet, anyways," she concluded.

It was Andrew's turn to lock her in his azure gaze, his irritation dampened by the concern he could see within her eyes. "You're right, I was not ready. How could I be, after only five days of training. But do you think he cares? Should I have asked him for a raincheck?"

He smiled at the thought of asking Will if they could resume their fight in a couple of weeks.

"I would never expect you to impugn your honor, or act outside of your character, but I witnessed the majority of what transpired. You seemed to revel in reminding Will of his troubles." She took a deep breath as she studied the man she craved so much. "That seems so unlike the man I consider you to be, and far from the noble man I long for."

While they both understood the oddity of their situation, Andrew was forced to smile and wink as he realized how amazing his gift was.

"I hope to live up to your high expectations, my dear," he said, ending his statement with a grin. "I understand how my words must have seemed, and please understand that I tried to help him see reason, but he would not listen. The only way I could think of to help him see how he was acting, was to bring him to it through his own actions."

Andrew stopped to think, and Karen knew her students well enough to know when they were onto something important. She gave him time to consider whatever had occurred to him, and a moment later he said, "His father must be a real monster for him to have to almost kill me before he realized he was just like his old man..." He took a deep breath before he finished, "that poor guy."

Karen could feel Andrew's heartache at what Will must have to deal with every day, and was happy to sense his compassion. She knew so little about their bond, and after the fight Karen had started to worry that perhaps she had been forced to love a sadist. She relaxed back into her chair, smiling towards the ceiling as she basked in the warm glow of Andrew's violet sprite within her mind.

Andrew's voice was playful and inviting as he said, "So I guess I don't need to tell you what I have decided, do I?"

She laughed and looked down, their eyes finding each other as their smiles reached the edges of their faces. "It would still be a delight to hear," she said, her voice a husky mask of desire.

"We need to figure out how this is going to work, but I don't have the strength to fight this anymore. After what you did for me today, I humble myself before you, and will follow whatever path you want."

Karen's face lit up with a joyous smile. She knew what she wanted and was eager to get started. Whatever happened from that day forward, Karen knew that her life would never be the same.

Her voice was just above a whisper, and Andrew struggled to hear her as she said, "I suspect that my desires are as clear to you as the smile on my face. Would you visit me later?" She sat forward and said more confidently, "We should review today's assignment later. I would prefer a one-on-one study session, for now at least."

Andrew could tell she was choosing her words carefully, and as he looked at the locked door he suspected why. He grinned and knew that he did not want to do anything to disrupt the life she had built there. Andrew was unsure what he would do if she was forced to vacate that identity.

"Of course, Ms. Anderson. Though, I might be studying late," Andrew smiled. He enjoyed the subterfuge.

"That should work well, Andrew." She paused to admire the smile on his face, attempting to freeze the image in her mind until she could see him again later. "Off you go, Andrew. I have many more eager minds to mold."

***** A Party Is Formed *****

Andrew ran to his car, fetching the box with his dismantled project within it. The bell starting class rang as he was crossing the parking lot, and while he felt guilty about being late, he found he was having a hard time caring. His heart was filled with joy in the knowledge that Karen was joining his new family. The idea of Sara and Karen together stirred something within his young body that felt primal, yet familiar. It was as if those desires were surging from an untapped spring which had just began to burble forth.

The last class of Andrew's day was a blur. He could remember Allison talking to him about the design of his prototype, and feeling pleased by the satisfaction she had as she saw what he was doing. Seth was in good spirits, and had said something about their new RPG group.

"What had it been?" Andrew wondered, as he tucked the half-finished prototype into his art locker. "Ohhh, right. Marcus was excited to join the group, and was going to come over tonight to start making characters," he mumbled to himself, as he rebundled his soldering iron and settled in to wait for the last minutes of class to finish.

"I'll talk to Stew tomorrow, about joining," Andrew said to Seth.

"Joining what?" Allison's voice startled Andrew. He had been so distracted with his thoughts of Karen and Sara, that he hadn't even noticed her edging towards them.

"Andrew's gonna start Game Mastering some RPGs. Can't wait to drop the hammer on some monster scum!" The excitement in Seth's voice was contagious, and Andrew found himself smiling and shaking his head at his friend's broad grin. "You want to play?"

Andrew rolled his eyes and was preparing himself for the biting comment from Allison, but was shocked by what he heard.

"Sounds stupid, but sure. Why not?"

She looked the same as usual; pale skin, straight dark hair, black clothes, and skinny, like she was dieing of starvation. Allison turned her gaze on Andrew and asked, "What, chipmunk? If you don't stop staring, I will be forced to end your miserable life."

Andrew laughed and responded, "And to think I was worried that aliens were trying to take over the school. For a moment there, I thought we may have to deal with the most frightening thing this area has ever seen..." He paused and enjoyed the looks of anticipation on his friend's faces, "... a convivial Allison."

Seth gasped and collapsed against the table in a dramatic artificial swoon. Allison's lip curled into a brief grin, before returning back to her standard bland expression. Andrew admired her commitment to being morose, but was happy to see her start to get more involved with the group.

"Sounds like a date. First round of character creation is tonight. Right, Seth?" Andrew asked.

Seth lifted his head and responded an affirmative, before collapsing back down, bellowing out his fake dread as he looked at Allison.

Allison laughed and said, "God you two are so stupid."

Andrew and Seth high-fived just as the bell rang, proud at having cracked the dour woman's shell. The three friends headed towards the parking lot, while they continued to plan their night.

***** Junior Rising *****

The drive home had been long and difficult for Will. His knuckles ached from when he had punched the locker, but did little to distract him from the threats that flew fast and steady from his father. It wasn't until they got home, that Will understood that his father was not upset with what he had done. He could hear "SportsCenter" on the TV, and saw the half-drunk bottle of beer sitting on the armrest of his father's recliner. The old man was upset at having his day interrupted.

He had prepared himself for a beating. The truth was that Will had grown used to the radial heat on his cheek, caused by his father's slaps. Even while he stood there and struggled to figure out who he was or what he wanted, he was grateful for every hit he had taken over the years. He knew that he had taken many of those beatings for someone else, for someone far more important.

The large man stormed to his chair and took a long drink from his half-empty beer, draining the remaining liquid before dropping the bottle on the carpet. It clanked against a couple of other empty bottles, as it came to a rest.

"What the fuck was that about, boy?" His words were a bit slow, but Will knew his father was far from drunk. He had consumed just enough alcohol to make him ornery.

Will wanted to respond, but he was still conflicted from the aftermath of the fight with Andrew. How could the small man have been so right about who he was? What was it with that fucking kid that made Will hate him so much? How the hell did he get himself so worked up?

The clarity that came with his father's slap was welcome, as it reminded Will of something he had realized when the weight of Karen's words had hit him earlier that day. He was tired of trying to be what his father expected of him, and hated how much like the old bastard he had already become.

Will's cheek burned from the force of the open-palm strike. Years of practice had made his father an expert, and the training showed as a red welt began to form on the left side of Will's face. The anger in his father's eyes was all too familiar.

"Didn't you hear me, Junior? When I ask a question, I expect a goddamn answer."

Will swallowed back his fear and wondered how to proceed. How do you change your life when you are confronted by something so monstrous?

"I fucked up," was all that Will could think to say.

"Fuckin-a-right you fucked up. I thought I raised you better than that, boy. If someone needs an ass whoopin' you deal that out in private." His father's steely gaze shifted as he tried to make eye contact with his son. "Look at me when I talk to you."

Will brought his eyes up and wilted against the glare of his father's simmering anger. Somehow, he never grew comfortable in the face of all that hatred. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath to try and marshal his strength as he said, "That's not what I meant."

His father raised an eyebrow and crossed his large arms as he responded, "Well this ought to be good. Just what did you mean, then, Junior?"

Will's voice was a whisper as he responded, "I shouldn't have attacked him."

"Just what the fuck does that mean?"

"He didn't deserve it. I only did it because I..." He felt fear as he looked at his father. Even now, the older man seemed like a god to him, standing so large and imposing with an air of confident certainty. "I attacked him because I was afraid to go after the person who deserved it."

William Sr. was intrigued by what his son was saying, and failed to see where that was leading. "Who deserved it more than that little shit?"

Will gulped back his dread and spoke with a broken voice, "You."

He wanted to react, and tried to make his arm reach up to stop the attack, but his body refused his command. His father grabbed him by the neck, and began slapping him across the left side of his face with hard and powerful blows.

SLAP!

"You think you can take me, little man?"

SLAP! SLAP!

"You think you are ready? Than just try it, and it will be the last thing you ever fucking do!"

SLAP!

The front door opened and as his father turned to watch his mother enter the house, Will slipped from the large man's grip and collapsed to the floor. Tears poured from his eyes while the left side of his face was afire with the tingling pinpricks of a thousand invisible needles.

"Will!" his mother yelled, as she ran towards her son. "Whatever he did, dear, we will make sure he is punished-" her voice was cut short and her progress was halted, as her husband raised his hand in preparation for a backhand. His message was clear: Interfere, and this is what you will get.

"What did he do, dear?" she asked, desperate to understand what her son could have done to deserve this.

Her husband had always been a sensitive man, and you just had to be careful with him. She knew he loved them so much, that he just had a hard time controlling himself when he got upset. Once he explained what was going on, she was certain she could calm her husband down.

"Your bitch of a son thinks he can take me, thinks he can be the man of the house." The large man glowered down at his son who was cowering on the floor at his feet. "Like this worthless disappointment could ever do that."

Will did not expect the force of the impact when his father's leg crashed into his side, and was reminded of Andrew as he was lifted off the ground slightly. His side exploded in pain, and a fresh wave of tears came to his eyes. His father was just too strong, and he feared he would never be able to stand up to the powerful man.

"No!" his mother's voice rang out through the room, as she rushed to cradle her injured son.

SLAAAAP!

The sound of the hit was profound, and Will felt the pain deep in his chest as he watched his mother collapse to the floor beside him. He had never seen his father so angry, and what scared him the most was not knowing just how far his father was willing to go. His mother was dazed by the force of the strike, and was unable to do anything but cry out as her husband picked her up by the collar of her jacket.