Reflections in Silver Spoons

I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t realized he was there until he spoke.



He was taller (even while sitting down), roughly in his early-twenties, with white-blonde hair and silver-grey eyes that regarded me with indifference. He was what I would classify as ‘severely conservative’ with thin, black glasses that he pushed up his nose. His dress was the typical Asian-style of a black, form-fitting suit—you know, the kind with the high collar? He was very cute in my book—OK, hot as hell—but the overall impression was one of… restriction. Then again, who was I to talk with my cat ears and tail?



I had run into his type before. Usually from a distance, though, and even then I only suffered a glare or two. So why had this one chosen to speak to me? He definitely looked liked the intellectual type so maybe he wanted to give a lecture on why I should give up my 'chosen' homo-heathenish lifestyle. Despite my uneasiness, I giggled at the prospect.



“May I ask what is so funny?” He turned his full attention to me and I half-wished he hadn’t because his eyes on me were just too intense.



“Oh, nothing,” I said flippantly. I hunched over my glass, leaving my tail abandoned, and returned to beating the bubbles from my drink. “You’re right, though. I would rather be somewhere else right now. Unfortunately, for me—well maybe not so unfortunate—I’m here with a friend who felt I needed to be rescued from another Saturday night alone.” Satisfied with the level of bubbles I was able to kill, I took a sip of my drink then asked nonchalantly, “And you?”



He turned and faced the bar, “I felt the need to try something different.”



I looked at him with eyebrow slightly raised. “By the look of you,” I gestured at his suit, “I’d say you went all out in the ‘different’ department.” It was Fetish Night after all.



Unmoved by my light ribbing, he looked at himself then changed the subject before he looked back at me. “You seemed… preoccupied.”



I still wasn’t sure what he was playing at and my unease hadn’t decreased in the slightest. He wasn’t exactly coming on to me but… “You are rather personal, aren’t you?” I must have offended him with my response because he seemed to pull away slightly and I finished with, “But I don’t mind,” and he relaxed. “And unless you can bring my boyfriend back from Europe, I don’t think you can help me.” That was clue enough that I was definitely gay and I wasn’t looking to hook up with anyone, right?



“I see.”



I started to babble like I usually did when I’m nervous. “I miss him so much that I’m going to summer school so I won’t have to think about how long he’s been away. I’ve taken to using all of my free time for studying. Hence the need for my rescue,” I said as I made quotation marks in the air. By the way, where was my rescuer? I secretly pulled out my cell phone and typed in the text message ‘9-1-1’.



“Summer school,” he said thoughtfully then narrowed his eyes, “How old are you?”



Ah, here we go. I smiled, “I just turned seventeen.”



He seemed to think on that piece of information for a bit and I took the obvious pause as disapproval so rushed to add, “But I’ll be graduating after this summer.” Why did I feel the need to justify myself? And to a guy I just met? For that matter, why was I talking to him at all when he was giving me the creeps?



“Do your parents know you’re here?” he asked.



I hated that question. Especially, since I could never give a lie as an answer. “My parents…” I said returning to my drink, “passed away.”



“I see,” he answered as he readjusted his glasses on his nose. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said mechanically.



“Oh, no,” I said, fear forgotten as I touched his arm because for the second time I felt the need to explain, “It’s been a while and I’ve gotten used to it,” He looked at my hand as it touched him and instantly I pulled away.



For the first time since our conversation started, I saw some type of emotion cross his perfect face, but it flickered only a second and I couldn’t read it.



“So, you’re alone?” he asked.



“No, I still have my brothers.” He seemed disappointed with that answer. “Well… um…”



“Disciple,” he provided and I silently wondered what parent would willing give their kid such a name when he continued, “and I have yet to get your name.”



“I…” I stalled and tried to think of a way to break away without giving my name.



“Luc! I’m so glad I found you!



The girl definitely had good timing! I turned with a too-bright smile to Al, but it faded as I saw her look of distress. She rushed forward and hugged me once she reached us.



“That guy is hot!” she whispered in my ear. “You sure you want to leave? He’s a better model than the one you’ve got.” I squeezed her hard, our universal signal for ‘Yes’ and to show just what I thought of her “better model” comment. She pulled away with a face pale and almost in tears. The girl really was good.



“I’m sorry but we have to go.”



“Is everything okay?” I asked, playing along as I moved off my stool.



She shook her head ‘No’, “I just got a call from my peeps. There’s been an emergency. Nana’s in the hospital.”



I made my eyes go big, “Oh, I’m so sorry.” I turned to Disciple as if apologetic, “I’m sorry. I have to go.”



“It was nice to meet you… Luc.”



I blinked. How did he—oh yeah, Al. I forgot he had gotten my name from Al. “Likewise,” I said before Al pulled me frantically through the crowd.



I looked back to see if he were still there, he was. I saw that he had dismissed us as he had turned to the bar and was now speaking to someone else. A few steps more and he disappeared behind the crowd that clambered up to get a breather from the chaotic dance floor.



We reached Al’s car and I quickly got in.



“You mind telling me what that was about? He seemed pretty cool to me,” she asked as she entered the other side.



“How would you know? You didn’t even speak to the guy.”



“I do know that we got here at ten o’clock and now it’s…” she looked at her watch, “ten forty-five! Luc!”



I crossed my arms and pouted. “I’m not going back in there. That guy was creepy,” I shivered.



“Alright, I’ll take your word for it.” She started the car. “You still have yet to tell what was wrong with him—and you can’t tell me he was ugly.” She put the car in reverse and smoothly backed out of the parking space.



“It’s just—he was…” I groaned in frustration. “I’m not even sure what creeped me out about him. It was just a feeling, you know?” I didn’t realize it but I had grabbed my tail again and had started to play with the tip. “His eyes were just so… cold one minute and intense with something else the next. He was so uptight, too, and why did he stop to talk to me? You know his type doesn’t talk to my type.” When she didn’t respond I looked at her to find her staring at me. “What?”



“Did you do that when you were with him?”



“Do what?”



She waved her finger in my general direction. “That... tail thing”



I realized what she meant and I dropped my tail.



“You look so adorable when you do it!” she squealed.



I shook my head in disbelief. “Sometimes I wonder how we ever became friends.”



“Because I was the only one able to see past that happy-happy face you put on,” she said seriously.



I turned back to the window. After a moment of driving in silence she said, “Maybe he just lacked social graces. I mean… you did say he seemed uptight—”



“Oh, there was no seemed, he was definitely uptight.”



“O-k, he was ‘definitely uptight’, then. Maybe he’s the workaholic business man that has to maintain a straight-laced—no pun intended—” she added when I made a face at her word choice, “lifestyle during the day, but at night he lets loose.”



It was my turn to stare. “Are you on drugs?” she answered with a mock-growl at the insult. “If that’s how he ‘lets loose’ then I’d hate to see him when he acts ‘straight-laced’. And whatever his problem, it doesn’t matter. I won’t be seeing him again and Alex will be back soon, anyway.”



“And by soon you mean a month away, right?”



“Thanks for reminding me,” I said sarcastically and made her laugh. She did enjoy torturing me when it came to Alex. “So… what do we do now?”



“We could always go to another club.”



I groaned.