November 4th

Chapter three Teasing Thomas

"Another great pretender,"and I think we all are in some ways, percolating over a dream. Hiding behind tidy little masks, evading a chorus of different selves squealing like pigs ready to be flambeed over a fire. Pining to sacrifice ourselves. "I am anonymous in this skin,"

" Who wrote this," Mr Rossi asks. "I am in a prison of the mind, a fortress of the self, it is ambituos for me to leap into the paradox. I am a passenger within my own skin. This piece is called passenger." Mr Rossi runs thick hands through a mat of curly blonde hair, his eyes like pinched crows scanning the class. He has a knack for this. " Good job." He smiles at me. " You ate the last demon with the good old knife and fork." A dimple shines like a coin from the side of his mouth , his perfectly aligned smile broadens his teeth winking like jewels in the afternoon sun. I used to have a major crush on Mr Rossi,he walks over to my desk,his six foot five frame a shadow caressing my form. I smell the scent of tobacco and gin on him, notice the orange marmalade like a print on his shirt. "Evolution," he grins. " Is a wondrous thing. Turnover to the next page, we will be disecting why Shakespeare had a thing for ugly women, my mistresses eyes class,"

I smile sweetly. Outside of the awkwardness around Tommy and Figs new Sherlock Holmes obsession with my black outs not much seem to be going on.I was still looked upon as this huge trojanvirus in this computer chip network society,as though their world was sensitive and strong all at once. To outsiders,people who are different like me. If there was a cage the world would study me behind six bars. A soul tormented"what does it taste like to be you?" Tommy pulled up beside me outside the small school building." New toy?"

"A bike.Every cool kid should have a signature bike." I studied the shiny new two wheeler he rested idolly on. My mouth was dry again, and heat surged deep into my skin. Yet I still wanted him to keep away, needed his scent at a distance. "Liquorish in vinegar." From Kindergarten I remember Tommy hated the taste of Liquorish it made him sick. I felt sick lately, a medly of tiredness with a cocktail of confusion. "Your like a ghost you know appearing in whispers," I said, as we took the unwinding road to the house. I rather study the row of neatly trimmed hedges and inhale the scent of lilacs, roses, and violets, bedded and lining the streets like a funeral procession. There was something strange in the air, a thickness like foam. Stodgy and the wind didn't just howl it wept of some trauma like a child in the postcard of a flashback. "Just once,"he groaned zipping up his brown biker jacket, I noticed it was over sized and peeling in the corners. I also noticed the dark blue circles under his eyes like someone who hadn't slept for "two days yeah,"

" Two days since the last time I saw you." I wanted to block him in some way, evade an arrest. This wasn't the books I had read as a child,no mills and boon,right now I was dealing with the reality of divorce. It hurt to look at my mother whose smile once visited her every morning,now it was vacant and unemployed. "Look this isnt_"

"Just sit with me , talk by the ocean the way we used to when we were kids." I felt a lump in my throat, and a softness gathering in my stomach. That seemed a lifetime away. I took a deep breath in, and swallowed hard. I couldn't stop myself. " Christ Romeo, give it a rest, " I shoved my way past him and took guilty steps towards the front door. When I looked back he was gone. " What is it about you Tommy Driscoll?" I mutter as I turn the key in the lock. I didn't realise how dark it had gotten. When I peel the door open mum is standing there bottle in hand. " You didn't tell me?" She asks. I shrug

" Put the bottle down and well talk."

Mother looks beyond me to something in the distance.