Dreams

It was a perfect hit. The ball flew over the field, too fast to kick in another direction, heading straight for the goal. And the magnificent goal-keeper.
-Catch it, Josh, catch it!
Josh caught the ball in his hands, hitting the ground by the pure force, and the crowd went into a frenzy of jubilant voices.
Josh worked out regularly, went to school regularly, attended football practice regularly, read – and praised– every bad poem the girls in the Poetry Club produced. Yes, he even helped little old ladies over the dangerous streets of Ilkington. Having adapted to his new body and applied all his knowledge and experience, he became that strange school chameleon, the one that is somehow popular with everybody. He fancied himself a Gary Stu, and was pretty proud that he could fool everybody into liking him so much. He had many close friends; the football team’s leader, Gary Ashwington, the talented violinist Elena Rekaristou (who was less talented at fiddling with poems) and Frederick Hwoarang, the expert hacker and Jolt addict. The little clique had been brought together by Josh and his enigmatic aura. They felt like experts in their separate areas, a team of superheroes brought together by the clumsy – but likable – head character. They did not even hang out with their ‘old crowd’ as much as they used to.
-Elena, Gary said. What about the school cafeteria? It’s going at a loss of over half its budget.
-I know, G, that’s a lot of teaching time lost, since the school has to cover its losses. We have to bring it up at the next school conference.
-What if I check up how much they pay the employees? Frederick said, pushing his glasses further up his nose. They gleamed in the dim light of the school building.
-Oh, that assistant is soo not over-paid, Elena exclaimed, blushing.
-Why? You know him? Gary asked.
-Well, I don’t know… but he’s so hot. She giggled. I’ve even written a poem, dedicated to that patch of pale skin that you can see through the hole in his jeans…
-You’re the expert on men, I guess, Frederick said, smiling. But you never know.
-That’s right, Gary grumbled, can’t be too trusting these days.
Josh leaned back in the sofa. He was not listening very intently, but interrupted the conversation to bring up a topic he wondered over.
-School cafeteria? We have that?
Elena looked at him, puzzled.
-It’s over the schoolyard, in the D-building. But I guess you spend more time in the computer room, with that long-legged receptionist…
Josh had not told his friends he was gay, strangely, he had never really come to the fore on that subject. Maybe that was why, despite his perfect façade, he still felt a strange yearning, an emptiness in his soul. He had not found Jave, and he wondered if the man was not a figment of his imagination. However, every time he checked the pictures on his computer, there the man was. His body, covering Melissa’s; his hands, touching Melissa; his smile, knowingly looking into the camera…

*

Melissa was riding John, moving herself up and down his shaft. John was sitting on the side of the bed, legs far apart, Melissa on his thighs. Her arms were around him and she moaned each time she sank down again. John was also moaning slightly, one arm behind him for leverage, the other on her butt.
A little bored, he looked at the hidden camera on the bookshelf, and began teasing her other hole. She gasped, and he felt an atypical detachment. Quaint, he thought, am I already becoming bored with her?
He probed a finger into her and she moved faster, wheezing. He began to find all sorts of things annoying about her. The way she tried to boss him around - well, he\'d taught her what became of that. The way she ate, the way she talked, the way she sucked his cock, the way she moved.
\'Great,\' he thought while she came with a strangled cry, \'I\'ll break up with her on film. And break up? Who the hell says we\'ve been together? She\'s just a slut after all...\'
Melissa leaned in to him and kissed his cheek. He forced her head back with a strong hold on her neck.
-We\'ve had a great time, haven\'t we, sweetheart?
She nodded. -Uh, yes?
God, but her manner tickled him.
-And now it\'s over.
She looked startled. -What?
-I said, get off my dick, you\'re annoying me.
She stared at him, and leaned in to move off him.
-You don\'t have to be offensive, she said. She stood up, gracefully, or, as gracefully as one could after performing physically exhausting exercises. But, she said, I don\'t understand why you\'re saying that now. You could have waited half an hour so I could shower.
-I waited \'til you\'d had an orgasm, he said. And you can still use the shower.
She snorted and began to dress.
John felt a pang of bad conscience, and tried to adopt a softer voice, so as to convey an apology.
-Really, Michelle- I mean, Melissa, use the shower. I won\'t disturb you.
-You have trouble with my name now? How many girls do you break up with in a week?
John began to regret his softer voice. He raised an eyebrow, and tried for the ironic.
-Break up with? I was only saying I wouldn\'t pay you anymore.
-Bastard. You never paid me anything.
Melissa\'s voice was harsh, and her breathing became a series of choked sobs. She turned her back to him.
John rose from the bed and went to her.
-Melissa, darling, I\'m serious; you need to use the shower. He picked her up and carried her in his arms to the bathroom. She beat on his chest with her fists as tears ran down her cheeks. He sat her down none too gently and closed the door.
-Use the shower for god\'s sake. I\'ll pack your things. And I\'m not raping you! He yelled the last through the bathroom door.
A couple of minutes later, the shower was running.

*
That afternoon, Josh walked into the school cafeteria. The reason his previous, nerdy self had not known it must have been because he had never socialized. He was pretty curious to see the place that went at such a loss. It was badly lit, he saw through the door as he stepped through a cloud of cigarette smoke. Smoking was prohibited, but oddly, these outlandish misty phenomena appeared outside the entrances.
He was not with his little in-group at the moment, but with his claque of poetry writers, the girls who hung out where he’d first met Elena. He held up the door to one of the new girls, who had, last evening at the poetry meeting, shakily read out loud a poem, dedicated to her dead hamster. She looked fragile, and he smiled extra warmly at her.
Thinking of poems, he remembered that horrendous poem Elena had written to the cafeteria employee’s skin. He wondered if the man was as hot as Elena had said.
He chatted with the girls, explained Elena’s absence – violin practise– and exchanged a view words on Lord Byron’s technique before reaching the cafeteria counter, where his heart stopped.
Behind the counter stood a man, a few years older than Josh’s body’s age, making the man around his true age. He was tall, had dark hair and mysterious eyes. He tapped his hand on the counter.
-Well, what do you want?
‘You.’ Josh’s mind said.
The man was Jave.