Rising Strong (BoyxBoy)

Ch. 09 - Pixy Play

"That was some good material," the pixy whistled happily at me.

"Is it ok for you to be away from your charge," I asked still making my way away from the library, wondering if I should just leave school for the rest of the day.

"He's chatting with friends. It makes me jealous so I left."

"If this is a reverse Oedipus Complex, does that make you a pedophile?"

I tripped. On air. I guess I deserved that.

"It's rude to assume a lady's age you know."

"I didn't realize a bug could be considered a lady."

I tripped again, my head banged a wall this time.

Just couldn't keep my mouth shut, could I?

"Do you want my help or not," she asked.

"You offering?" I got up slowly, rubbing away the pain.

"Turn right, midway down the hall their's a storage closet, a good place for...accidents."

I turned.

"Take that sprig I gave you. Put it between your front teeth and breath through it."

I did, and stopped in the front of the storage closet to give myself someplace to go once the jocks found me. They did, eventually. It took long enough that I thought perhaps they were actually going to let me go, insult and all. It took them all of five seconds to have me backed up into the farthest shelf of the closet, and for me to wonder why the hell I hadn't left the building.

"Insulting me in front of my boys was a bad move, beautiful." He panted all over me. I shivered in disgust as his breath touched my skin.

"Hey," his younger carbon copy protested as he ripped apart the shirt I was wearing.

That was were the wild magic came in. Water spurted from nowhere...all over me. What the hell pixy shit!

And she wasn't done there, a gust of wind like a pickup truck threw us all out of the storage closet, slamming me across the floor, to land all wet and disheveled with the jock boys somehow standing in a semi circle around me, just as the bell rang to change classes.

Ah, I see.

I immediately began crying, or the best I could do to imitate crying. Hiding my face in my hands, head down, using my hair to help disguise the fact that I was actually digging the heels of my hands into my eyes to help create moisture, rather than to wipe it away.

I raised my head to the hallway, a small sniffle to accent my freshly 'tear wiped' eyes. Acting for all I was worth to give the same reaction that would have been oh-so-pathetically genuine only two years or so ago. Back when I'd still been human.

"What's going on?"
"They wouldn't really go that far, would they?"
"Right in the damn hallway?!"
"Who do they think-"

I tried not to smile, I was getting exactly the reaction I wanted and smiles would have ruined it.

"J, just leave me alone," I wailed, pitching my voice to be sure our audience heard me. "I'm not sucking anything!"

I buried my face into the floor to hide my embarrassment. That last part felt like going to far but I'd follow the pixy' advice. She knew these people better than I did.

"What's going on here," a tentively authoritative voice asked.

The wolves and their friends scrammed.

Damn. That was going to make this all more difficult.

I made watery eye contact with the teacher brave enough to investigate and debated letting it go and running to the bathroom to fix myself up. Nope, better to report it.

It was always better to report it. Even if they didn't care this time, they were far more likely to care when someone else came to report if there already was a report on file. Always report it, even if nothing happens...this time.

Damn, I wish I'd thought to make watery eye contact with some of my peers. A nice, "help me," to inspire guilt. Such frivolous thoughts were blown right back to the star they came from as I heard the pitter patter of little feet running down the hallway.

"Maaama!"
"Mmm! Mhm!"

And now I was fucking pissed. I'm not sure what the bitch did, but she had no fucking right to involve my babies in this! They were supposed to be free of this bullshit!

I removed the wet, ripped shirt and opened my arms the slam of two minuscule bodies. For esthetic purposes of our audience I should have kept the soiled shirt on and sobbed uncontrollably into their tiny little shoulders. But I was a responsible fucking parent, and in no fucking way was I going to let them see me freak out more than they already had, nor was I getting them sopping wet just to stage the perfect drama to get the damn mutts in trouble they damn well already should have been in.

"Mama! Mama!"

"Shh. Shhh. It's alright, I'm just a bit wet, everything's fine."

I consoled them as best I can, hoping the audience didn't find my behavior too incongruent. Duck pickled pixy had over played her little hand, which I would break, if I ever caught hold of her. My life was going to be infinitely more inconvenient if I got labeled as some sort of 'boy who cried wolf' if you understand the reference.

"Mr. Achlys," a nearly authentic authoritative voice asked this time.

I made eye contact and nodded.

"Why don't you come with me."

I plopped a brat on each hip and rose to follow him. This was going to be a very long, annoying, and cold explanation.

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A.N. So, just throwing something out there. For once I actually didn't take the time to edit this. Grammar Nazi's welcome.

I wasn't sure if I wanted his new last name to be Blasé or Achlys. Votes?

Talk to me people! Give me a wall to bounce my thoughts off of.