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       #Post#: 30292--------------------------------------------------
       Another Story Fragment
       By: Jack Date: February 11, 2025, 8:02 pm
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       I have this identified as 'UD' in my files.  No clue what it was
       supposed to stand for.
       I did this in Sep '21.  No idea where I was going with it,
       except it was another idea for a romance novel.  It was inspired
       by the Brazilian movie 'The Way He Looks', which is an
       incredible gay romance/coming of age story (if you haven't seen
       it - DO).
       While the romance novel didn't pan out, the two characters
       introduced here were moved almost completely into  CPHS as Gil
       Wolfe and Bobby Perkins.
       [hr]
       CH 01
       “All right, Ryan, this is your stop.”
       The window was cracked a bit, and I could hear the chatter of a
       bunch of people all around.  Most of them sounded like they were
       my age, but a few sounded like little kids.
       “Thanks, Franklin.  I really appreciate all the help you’ve
       given me the last couple a weeks.”
       As I said it, I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out a
       folded bill.
       “You don’t have to do that, Ryan.  Keep it.”
       “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”
       “You can’t make me take it.”
       “An Uber driver who won’t take a tip?  Don’t tell me you’re
       going to start treating me like I’m handicapped now?”
       “That’s a low blow.”
       “I know, but you’re going to take it, aren’t you?”
       He sighed theatrically, making sure I noticed.
       “Only because there are people behind us, and I don’t want to
       cause a scene.”
       I turned so he could see my smile.
       “Good excuse.  But seriously, thanks.”
       “Thank you, Ryan.  And good luck.”
       I opened the car door and swung my legs out, then I picked up my
       backpack.  I tapped around to make sure everything was in place,
       then I stood.  Shutting the door behind me, I put the backpack
       over my shoulders, then removed and unfolded my cane.  Being
       very careful, I tapped around to find the curb, then made sure I
       was in the right place by tapping beyond it, to make sure it was
       sidewalk, and not yard.  Only then did I step up.
       I took a second to orient myself. Franklin really had dropped me
       off in the exact place we’d practiced.  I turned, made sure
       there was no one in front of me, and took three steps, then
       turned again, now lined up with the steps.
       “Could I help you?”
       “No thanks.  I’m a student here.”
       “I figured that, I meant, ‘could I help you to class’ or
       something?”
       I stopped and turned to ‘look’ at him.  Some people found it a
       bit disturbing when I did that, but others seemed to think I was
       ignoring them if I didn’t.
       I was impressed. I’d half expected someone to be trying to play
       a joke.  I’d already noticed that he was taller than me.  His
       voice was coming from just above my ear, so he must be about
       three inches taller than I am - probably six feet or just over.
       What really struck me though was how sincere he was.  He
       actually wanted to help, and didn’t mind being seen with the new
       ‘handicapped’ kid.
       “No thanks.  I’ve got to make sure I can get to class on my own
       if I’m going to do this.”
       “Okay.  Mind if I walk along?”
       “It’s a free country.”
       I was a bit torn between needing to prove my independence and
       wanting a chance to make a friend.  I was probably a bit sharp,
       but he didn’t seem to mind.  I turned to face forward again and
       began walking.
       “Does it disturb you if I talk?”
       I gave my head a shake.
       “Nope.”
       “My name’s Justin.”
       I knew the steps were right in front of me, so  I stopped.  The
       lanyard on my walking stick was already looped around my right
       wrist, so I just held it with my left and let the cord ride up
       as I reached my hand towards him.  He seemed a bit surprised
       that I reached right towards him.
       “Ryan.  Ryan Hunter.”
       “Pleasure,” he replied, with rather old-fashioned manners.
       I turned back and tapped another step before finding the stairs.
       I already knew them very well and counted as I climbed.  There
       were plenty of people there, but I was still walking in a bit of
       an island, with people instinctively clearing the way for me.
       “I have the door,” a girl said.
       I smiled in her direction.
       “Thank you.”
       I walked through the doorway, then changed the angle of my cane
       to tap along the wall.  When I came to the end of it, I went
       another four steps, then stopped and turned ninety degrees,
       which put me far enough into the hall to evade lockers and
       opening doors.
       “What’s your first period?” Justin asked.
       “Wilcox, World History.”
       “He’s pretty good.  I had him last year.”
       “You a senior?” I asked.
       “No, a junior.  I just couldn’t fit American History in my
       schedule last year, so I reversed them.”
       I nodded, and made an affirmative noise, before realizing that
       the people I was around now could actually see me nod my head,
       so the extra noise I’d learned to make at the blindness training
       school wasn’t required.  Not that I’d be able to stop making it
       anytime soon.  That was a deeply ingrained habit by this point.
       I turned at what I thought was the right spot, but I’d gotten a
       bit distracted talking to Justin, and by people moving around
       me.  I turned to my right.
       “Excuse me?”
       I started to reach out with my cane, but Justin stopped me.
       “May I help a bit?”
       I thought about protesting, but stopped.
       “Okay.”
       “A girl there has headphones on, and you were about to hit her
       with your cane.”
       Oops!
       “Thanks.”
       “The door to Mr. Wilcox room is about three steps further on,
       but it’s open.”
       “Thank you, Justin.”
       “My pleasure,” he said again.  “I have to go get my books.
       Maybe I’ll run into you later.”
       “Hope so,” I replied with my own manners.  “Thanks again.”
       “Nice meeting you.”
       I walked carefully into class.  Unlike the halls, I couldn’t be
       sure how much had stayed in the same place.  It was obvious that
       the room was already crowded, though I wasn’t sure how many
       students there actually were in the class.  I oriented myself to
       the wall and moved carefully as I approached my desk.
       “Hello, Mr. Hunter,” I heard Mr. Wilcox say.  “Nothing has
       moved, and your way is clear.”
       “Good morning, sir.  Thank you,” I answered with a nod, though
       not looking at him.
       “Good morning, sir, thank you,” someone mimicked me from the
       back of the room.
       I turned my head to face him, and it was obvious who had spoken.
       The feeling of trauma and anger almost made my stomach churn.
       The voice had been deep, so obviously a guy, and I could have
       almost felt sorry for him.  It was like someone who’d been
       wounded over and over again, without a chance to heal.  However,
       even though the wounds were infected, and he was in obvious
       pain, he was thrashing around, spreading his infection, and I
       didn’t care to be splattered with it.
       I had the feeling my direct stare disconcerted him, and I kept
       facing him, even as I continued to my desk.  I finally stopped,
       simply because I didn’t want to draw too much attention to
       myself and faced forward again.
       I folded my cane, slid the backpack from my shoulders, and
       slipped the cane into its pocket.  While I could sense no malice
       around me, I wasn’t feeling particularly trusting, so I made
       very sure of my chair before I sat.  I put my backpack beside
       me, and used the small velcro strap to secure it to the chair
       leg.  Then I removed my laptop, headphones, charger, and braille
       pad, and set everything up.
       A hand came to rest on my shoulder, as a quiet, tenor voice
       spoke.
       “Hi, I’m Kenny.”
       The hand tingled with warmth, and the voice was amazing.  My
       belly tingled, and part of me stood straight up in reaction, as
       well as sitting up in my chair.  Then I turned, keeping my right
       hand at desk level, until it bumped the desktop behind me.  Then
       I raised it a bit.
       “Hello, Kenny.  I’m Ryan.”
       Kenny took my hand and gave it a brief, normal shake, but I
       stopped him, and showed him how to do the handjive I’d always
       done with my old friends.  There was no real reason to, but it
       gave me an excuse to hold his hands for a moment.
       #Post#: 30293--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Another Story Fragment
       By: Jack Date: February 11, 2025, 8:03 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Ch 02
       I knew we were going to have a new kid starting in class, but I
       hadn’t really thought about it.  I mean, there had to be a
       reason Mr. Wilcox moved Sue Collins from the desk in front of
       me, I guess.  I was just a lot more worried about mid-terms last
       week.  After all, trig had been kicking my ass, and Dad had
       promised to pay for my driver’s ed, IF I could bring home
       straight As this semester.  Now that those were over, with me
       clearing the hurdle Dad set, I had settled into the new Mercedes
       Lackey novel I’d been putting off.
       I was busy reading when something caught my attention.  The
       class room was still as noisy as it normally was before the bell
       rang, but there was something… different about it; something
       upon which I couldn’t put my finger.  I bookmarked my spot and
       looked up.
       The new kid must have just come into the room, and it seemed
       that he had everyone’s attention.  It wasn’t hard to tell why.
       I could only see him from the side, but I could already tell he
       was beautiful.
       There were too many rows between me and him, and too many people
       already at their desks, for me to have a great look at him, but
       I noticed right away that he had thick, black hair that he wore
       above his ears, but not real short.  He also had rather big
       glasses that didn’t seem very fashionable.  Of course, he wasn’t
       dressed very fashionable either.
       As I looked down his body, I noticed that he was walking slowly,
       and that he seemed to be holding his arms strangely.  It was
       only when he reached the front of the room and turned that I
       realized what was going on.
       The new kid was blind.
       He was still really good looking.
       His clothes fit pretty loose, so it was hard to be sure, but it
       looked like he had a really tight body.  He was wearing mostly
       black - black work pants, a black t-shirt with ‘Iron Maiden’ and
       some cartoon on the front - I think it was an old rock band -
       and an oversized black and red flannel shirt, he wore with the
       sleeves rolled up two or three times, but it still reached his
       hands.  The only real color he wore was red sneakers.
       Mr. Wilcox said something to him I missed, because I was too
       busy looking at him, but then Jenkins made one of his regular
       smartass remarks, and the new kid turned towards Jenkins.  If it
       had been me, I think I would have pissed my pants, because this
       kid looked serious.  Then I had to wonder how he’d even known
       who to look at.  Voice, I decided - he must have heard where the
       comment came from.
       The kid sat down in his desk and started unpacking his bag.  He
       had a laptop and some stuff with it, which seemed weird, but I
       guess that’s how he got around not being able to see a book.  I
       normally don’t like intruding on people, and I almost went back
       to my book, but I couldn’t help myself.  This kid wouldn’t even
       know I was here, if I stayed quiet, so I reached up and put my
       hand on his shoulder.
       “Hi, I’m Kenny.”
       He stiffened for a second, but then seemed to relax and turn
       around.  He held his hand out to me, so I shook it.
       I’m Ryan,” he replied, but he also smiled and shook his head.
       “Like this, my dude,” and he walked me through a different
       shake, where we started normal, but then switched to a thumb
       grip, before pulling back and holding each other’s curled
       fingers.  When he released, he snapped and pointed at me.  As
       soon as he’d started, I knew what he was doing, but I still let
       him finish, because, quite honestly, I liked the way it felt
       while he held my hands.
       
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