Promises Made, Promises Broken - SYTYCW (Bad Reputation)

Prologue and Chapter One (SYTYCW)

One Year Ago

Prologue - Tucker

I sat on my bed in the room I shared with another student, and enjoyed a rare moment of solitude.  I didn't actually mind having a roommate, but she was the fourth one I'd had in six months, so she wasn't someone I called a friend.  And living in a residence hall - aka a dorm - provided little opportunity to be alone.  Even when the odd time of aloneness did arise, more often than not, I spent my spare waking moments with Mark.

I sighed a little when I thought about him - the icing on my cake.

I was in my second year at Trans U, but I had met Mark on my first day.  I hadn't thought of him as particularly striking, and his horn-rimmed glasses had made me smile to myself when he wasn't looking.  But he was kind, dependable, and his interests lined up with mine so perfectly that it was almost like we were made for each other.

I'd spent my whole life trying to escape from unpredictable moments.  My childhood was marked with enough of those, provided almost exclusively by my father, and compounded by my mother's enabling personality.  Drug addictions led to drug debts.  Drug debts kept us living in a tiny, one bedroom apartment, and tore apart the possibility of any kind of relationship with my mother, turning it into something that seemed beyond repair.

I spent hours - days, even - at the local youth centre, seeking respite from the continuos stream of unhappiness.

The only sliver of hope that had come was when my father disappeared.  I didn't know if he was dead, or just gone.  I tried not to care if he was, because suddenly my mom's two jobs were enough to pay the bills.  My belongings no longer went missing, only to turn up at the pawn shop three blocks from home.  Strange women didn't call our house, making my mom cry when they asked for "Paulie, baby", and menacing men didn't sit on our stoop, waiting for a payday that was more likely to wind up in broken fingers than actual cash.

I still wanted to get out, and suddenly it seemed possible.

I buckled down at school, pulling grades that would have been unachievable if my father's life had still been interfering with mine.  And once it was in my sight, college became an imperative thing, not a choice and I had made it happen.  I was only eight miles away from my devastating childhood, but I was on my way to becoming the adult I'd always wanted to be.

So Mark…Studious, sweet, smart Mark was the icing on the cake that was my new life.  He didn't make my heart pound, or my mind spin, but that was perfect.  I wanted nothing to do with emotional outbursts or irrational behaviour.

As I thought about it, my short-term aloneness in my room suddenly seemed a little lonely, and I kind of wished he hadn't begged off to study.

I was relieved when the door squeaked open.

"I hope you have chips," I said as I turned to greet my roommate.

The rest of of whatever I'd been going to say died in my throat when I caught the look on her face.  It was ashen.

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately.

She shook her head and handed me a piece of newspaper.  I frowned.  I recognized the letterhead as one from the local paper.  I scanned it, and panic reared in my chest.  Select words jumped off the page, lodging in my brain.  Stonewood Gate Apartments.  Twenty-one dead.  Estranged husband.  Drug and alcohol abuse suspected.  Fire.  And the headline.  NO SURVIVORS.  

I dropped the article like it was burning.

"Tucker."

I heard her say my name, but I was already on the move.  People were staring as I ran through the common area on our floor in nothing but pajama shorts and an ill-fitting tank top, but I didn't care.  I needed to get to something solid.  Something that would solidify me.  I needed to get to Mark.