Reflections in Silver Spoons

Chapter I

"I don’t want to hear it," she gave the sign of the “Brick Wall” as she looked away from me, "and don’t even look at me with those puppy-dog eyes because I won’t take ‘No’ for an answer."

I dropped my expression, "You know I can’t go," I whined.

"And why, pray tell," she said as she put her elbows on the table, laced her fingers, then rested her chin on the basket they made; "can’t you go this time?"

"I have a history exam to study for and—"

"Oh please," she laughed, "when was the last time you studied—for anything!

"Al…" I warned.

"Alright, alright. So you've been taking school more seriously, lately," then after a pause she added with distaste, "I still can't believe you volunteered to go to summer school."

"Make fun of me all you want but I'll be the one graduating a year early. And if you don’t pass History this summer I’ll be leaving you to defend yourself against the next herd of freshmen."

She rolled her eyes skyward and mumbled ‘Whatever’, then took my hand and looked me in the eye. I squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable. I knew what she was going to say next, "But Luc, Hon... you’ve been cooped up in that damn room of yours every Saturday night since that rat-bastard—"

"Alex."

"Whatever," she dismissed with the wave of a hand showing her dislike of my current boyfriend, "the bottom line is you need to get out ... even if by force," she softened then one-by-one massaged my knuckles with her thumb, "You have to get out," she pouted, "Do it for me. Puhweez?"

"Alright, alright, I’ll go... Drama Queen."

"Yay!" she rapidly clapped her hands together then stood to leave, "Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything," then she backed her way out of the cafeteria, "Be ready at nine, okay?" her eyes brightened, "And I have the perfect thing for you to wear!" she squealed.

At that I rose from my chair, "What do you mean the perfect—" but she was already gone and the bell that signified the start of fifth period stopped me from getting an answer to my unfinished question.

* * *

"You could have warned me it was Fetish Night."

"Would you have come?"

"No!"

"My point, exactly," she grinned evilly, "now get that sweet-ass out there so I can show you off!"

I sighed and opened the car door. The so-called "perfect thing" she had for me to wear consisted of tight-fitting, shiny, black, vinyl pants that widened slightly at the ankle to let my black and silver sneakers show. My shirt left even less to the imagination in all of its sleeveless, black, mesh glory. Definitely, it was a far cry from my usual hoodie and baggie jeans.

The most striking piece (which I had to admit was my favorite) of her whole creation was a thin, inch-wide, iron collar with a key lock at the back and in the front a silver bell with "Submissive" etched in black. I stood playing with the bell when Al motioned for me not to move.

"Wait!" she said as she ran around the car, "One last thing." She pulled out eyeliner, a compact and something that looked like... white cat ears and a tail!

"Whoa! I didn’t agree to no makeup," then I grabbed the ears and tail from her, "and what the hell is this?" I said as I shook them in front of her face.

"Trust me," she said patiently.

I looked at her. She really was doing her best to show me a good time and I didn't want to ruin the night she had planned for me. I sighed, then shrugged my shoulders, "I’ve gone this far..." She squealed then continued with her ministrations, and when she finished she stepped back and gave a low whistle.

"Damn, boy. If I were a guy—gay or not—I’d be all over you!"

I turned to look in the side-view mirror of her car and couldn’t believe the person that looked back at me. I touched my face then caressed the white ears nestled perfectly in my hair, then the fluffy tail that was pinned to the back of my pants.

I was never stupid enough to believe myself to be a looker. Even now I was as pale as usual, but my lashes were lined in black and the area around my eyes went from black then faded into a soft, sparkly lavender giving a smoky effect. It made the violet of my eyes stand out. I blinked, "Is that… is that me?" I asked as I turned to Al again.

"Always been," she answered seriously then pulled me toward the club
entrance.

There was no small amount of interest generated as we bypassed the line and went straight to the front. There were catcalls, whistles and other proposals for me as Al spoke with the bouncer. Apparently, she knew the man and he let us in with no hassle—but most importantly—no charge.

The building was two stories, dimly lit as clubs go and was done in the contemporary style featuring angled, metallic designs accented by a variety of greenery. The top floor consisted of a veranda with a wall-length bar lit with electric-blue, neon lights, with tables and chairs scattered around in no particular order. Couches lined the walls not taken up by the bar, which provided more seating—or laying in some cases. Stairs led down to the first floor, which was the dance floor and there was a multitude of bodies gyrating en mass to the flashing lights and music blaring out of the speakers.
Next to me, Al began to sway to the music then leaned close and shouted so I could hear her over the pulsing beats.

"You want to dance?"

"No, you go ahead. I’ll sit this one out."

"You sure?" she asked a little worried at leaving me alone.

"Yes," I assured her then watched as she descended the stairs.

It didn’t take long for her to find a dance partner and soon she was part of the melee. She glanced my way on occasion, inviting me to join but I shook my head not yet ready. I mimed that she could find me at the bar if she needed me, then headed in that direction; my new furry appendage wagging behind me.

As I made my way through the crowd, I was either approached with the drunken charm of “Damn, you’re fine as fuck!” or by someone who would playfully yank my tail to get my attention. Luckily, I was able to talk my way out every proposition and reached the bar with no real hassle. The bartender approached with a grin, ready to card me. Since I only wanted a Coke, I was awarded the small satisfaction of watching him walk away disappointed. Drink in hand, I turned and studied the place.

So many people were smiling, genuinely happy, having a grand old time, yet here I was feeling… nothing. Even amongst all of them, I still felt disembodied, not really a part of what was happening. I wouldn't be this way if Alex were here. Unfortunately, he was with his parents in Europe for the summer, which meant he would be gone for at least three more weeks.

Lost in thought I turned around and rested my chin on my hand, then commenced to de-carbonize my coke with a stirrer. I never could take all of those bubbles.

Al had been right. I had needed to get out; otherwise, with another Saturday night studying alone... I was going to drive myself crazy. I frowned as I felt the familiar ache try to creep its way back in. Studying until I fell asleep wasn't going to save me tonight.

I missed him.

"By the look on your face I’d say you’re about as thrilled to be here as I am."

I looked up from my glass to see a man sitting next to me with his back to the bar as he looked at the crowd. Involuntarily, I took hold of my tail and nervously worried the end. As I wound and unwound it around my finger, instinct allowed only one word to push through the fog that had clouded my brain as I took in my new acquaintance: Run.