Emilie in the 80s: 8 (Patreon)

Chapter 8

After Pete got his schedule, he went right back to the locker, freezing. The word Daba, the picture were gone. He shook his head. What? But just then the bell rang, and so he headed on down the hall and to his first class, having forgotten the idea of skipping all together.

The morning went on in much the same way. Pete moved from class to class, a magnet for eyes. He noticed most of the boys almost seemed scared of him. He’d turned around in his seat at one point and asked to borrow a pencil, and the kid behind him had only been able to mumble in return. But then, there were the other guys— the cocky, arrogant ones. Guys like Brad, who looked him right in the eyes with total confidence, who made little mocking comments to him. It seemed that between every class, he somehow crossed paths with Brad, and each time there was just this— thing— going on.

Pete liked and didn’t like it. Brad seemed very full of himself, and for Pete that was igniting a growing need to put Brad in his place.

Lunch time came, and as he and Fiona headed to the cafeteria, he thought back on how it had been when he was a here the first time. He and his friends actually didn’t eat in the cafeteria. They said it was too loud, but the teal reason is because it was always hard to find a place to sit, and besides that, they were kind of embarrassed to debating whether Tom Baker or Peter Davison was the better doctor. The other kids were always giving them weird looks, like, “what are you even talking about?”

So, they hung out at the back of the art room, playing Car Wars or Illuminati, talking about Daleks and Cybermen.

Now, based on what he’d experienced all morning, Pete knew that lunch would be different, and he was excited and nervous as they walked down the hall, getting closer, closer… and then they walked through the double doors into the noise and confusion, kids at tables, in lines with trays. The room smelled of soy burgers and deep fryers. Fiona headed directly toward a table in the corner, and Pete saw all the same girls from the morning— all the cool girls, a few guys… It still didn’t seem possible, but Pete was one of them now, and he didn’t have to pretend to smile as he sat down, tossing his hair, knowing he was being watched, appreciated, envied and desired.

They started talking about this and that. Pete was careful. Still unsure exactly how a teen-age girl was supposed to act, what he was supposed to say, he mostly affirmed what others were saying, or repeated things he’d heard some other girl say, in the way she said it. After they’d talked a little bit, some of them decided to go and get food, since the line had died down. Pete didn’t feel like waiting in line, so he looked at Niles, who’d been hanging out at their table and seemed to have a certain air of “nice” about him. Pulling his lunch money out of his pocket, he slid it across the table and said, “Go get my lunch for me.”

“O-okay,” Niles said, and then, weirdly, added, “thanks.”

Pete covered his mouth and stymied a giggle. Had Niles just thanked him for the opportunity to run and get Pete food, like a servant? That feeling of power grew stronger. How hot am I? Pete wondered. Of course, he’d seen and knew, but the way these boys were fawning over him, and even the pervy teachers?

“Hey, skank,” Brad said, plopping down next to Pete. His buddy Greg was with him.

“Don’t call me that,” Pete said, instantly annoyed.

“Oh,” Brad said, reaching out and brazenly pushing Pete’s bangs from his forehead. “Hit a little too close to home?”

Pete batted Brad’s hand away. “Don’t you have some footballs to throw or something?”

“Oh, yeah,” Brad said. “I have some balls all right.” His sycophant, Greg, snickered.

Pete actually thought it was funny, but Brad was sooooo annoying and full of himself! Pete decided to put him in his place. “Look,” Pete said. “I don’t blame you for being interested, but you’re not my type!”

He expected Brad to be put off, but instead Brad just put a hand on Pete’s thigh and squeezed. “Keep telling yourself that— skank.” And with that he got up and swaggered away. Pete slit his eyes at him, furious.

I am going to so know you off that high horse of yours, Pete thought. Ugh!

Fiona’s tray clattered to the table as she and the other girls came back from the lunch line. “Emmy and Brad, sitting in a tree…” Fiona said.

“As if,” Pete said. Niles delivered Pete’s tray, even making a small bow as he set it down in front of Pete, who gave him a quick little smile as a reward. Pete nibbled half the weird burger and a few of the fries. His appetite didn’t seem as strong as before.

After school, Pete and Fiona walked over to the middle school playground next door and got on the swings, not really all out swinging but just kind of rocking back and forth. The tart smell of fall was already in the air, and a few of the leaves had started to turn. “So, anyway,” Fiona said, breaking off a conversation she’d been having mostly with herself about how “Happy Days” needed to just stop already. “Are you going to tell me why you’re acting so weird?”

“What? Me?” Pete said.

“Who else?”

‘I’m not… I mean… you are so out of it,” Pete said, terrified she was getting wise to the fact he was actually a middle aged man.

“Am I?” Fiona said. “There’s something off about you the past couple days. I know it.”

Pete did want to talk, and as he rocked back and forth on the swing, he looked up to the sky and decided to at least share a part of his weirdness. “I know this may sound untrue somehow, but I am a little freaked out about all the attention I’m getting.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow. “But you’ve been…”

“Getting attention since I got boobs,” Pete said, repeating what she’d said earlier. “It seems different to me now, more in some way. I don’t know. I’m just not sure how to handle it.”

“Well, you’re going to get attention,” Fiona said. “Sorry to tell you. It’s not going away until you hit menopause, and even then I’m not sure for you.”

“So, what do I do?”

“Learn to love it,” Fiona said with a shrug. “It’s better than being invisible.”

Better than being invisible. He knew invisible. Fiona had no idea. And hadn’t he spent his whole life wishing people would notice him? See him? Now, did they ever… wait…. That thought. Something about wishing seemed to stir a memory in him, and he started pushing to try and retrieve it, to recall…

Just then his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a low, angry growl coming from behind him. Both he and Fiona looked back, screamed and jumped off their swings. A wolf stood there, ten feet away, with natty black fur and feral eyes, saliva dripping from its fangs. It was staring at them, pawing at the ground as if it were trying to decide whether it wanted to pounce on them. Pete instinctively threw his arms around Fiona, and they stood there, frozen, as the wolf began to move toward them… slowly… slowly…

“What do we do?” Pete said, voice trembling.

“I can’t think,” Fiona said, staring in terror at the wolf.

The wolf crouched, its whole body tensing, as it were about to pounce, the guttural growl growing louder, when a football came flying through the air and bashed it in the head. The wolf howled and turned, and three more footballs slammed into it as brad and some guys from the team charged at it, shouting, causing the wolf to run off into the woods.

“What the hell?” Brad said as he and the guys ran up to Fiona and Pete. “Wolves? Around here?”

Fiona separated from Pete and threw herself into Brad’s arms, sobbing. One of the other guys held Pete, who was shaking, but even still, the sight of Fiona in Brad’s arms made him… am I jealous? He wondered, as a hard, ugly emotion seemed to settle into his heart. But- I hate Brad!

When Pete got home, he felt exhausted, and though part of him felt he really needed to do some investigating, he went to his room and took a nap. He tossed and turned, his mind consumed jarring images:

He and his daughters, lying by the pool, only he was a girl wearing a bikini

Arms snaking around his waist, a hot mouth kissing his neck

Wolves, howling

A vortex swirling in the sky, lighting flashing from the pitch black clouds

Hands on his breasts…

A horned and winged goddess…

Daba

He, on his back, pushing down his jeans as Brad straddled him

The last image, and the intense feeling it ignited, shocked him awake. He sat up with a gasp, his long hair falling in his face. His hard nipples ached, straining against the stiff cups of his bra. He covered his face with his hands, unnerved by these feelings a man was never supposed to have. He found he was crying, though he didn’t know why.

He got up and went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face until he felt like he was regaining his composure. He took one of the hand towels and dried his face. When he removed the towel, he jumped in fright at the unexpected image of Lexy in the mirror.

He turned. “What?”

“Something isn’t right,” Lexi said, looking him over, staring into his eyes like she was trying to look through them and right into his head.

“I almost got attacked by a wolf,” Pete said. “Okay?”

Lexi crunched up her face. “A wolf? What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Just go away,” Pete said, pushing past her and hurrying down the hall.

Lexi watched him go, puzzled. What had happened to Em? She didn’t talk the way she talked, or walk the way she walked.