Chapter one

"I am the Walrus"

I laid there on my bed absorbing the last days of summer break.

"MICHALE, I'M GOING TO YOGA!" my mom yelled from downstairs.


"Fine!" I muffled out from under the covers.

I heard the door slam shut. I rolled over to look at my clock it was nine forty-five. I rolled my eyes. Then tumbled out of bed yawning. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the shower. While the water heated up I turned on the radio, the classics station as always, and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair looked atrocious. My hair was longer than some boy's hair. It was espresso, except for the ends dyed a caramel color, from art camp. I peeled off my clothes and got in to the shower. Showers always have waked me up maybe when Roxie got here I won't be such a drag. Roxie and I have been friends since as pre-school. In fact she was the only kid who talked to me in pre-school. I use to play with the other kids till I kissed Roxie's brother, Mack, on the cheek. Everybody hated me after that, but I guess all four year olds are homophobes. I laughed at my thought turning around turning off the shower. I grabbed a towel off the towel rack and dried my hair a bit then wrapped it around my waist. Grabbing my glasses and putting them on I walked out of my bathroom in to my bedroom (they are connected, kind of like a master suite). Roxie was in my room on my computer.

"OH MY GOD! WH-what the hell?!" I screeched surprised by her presence.

"Oh shut up, remember I've seen you naked." She said bitterly. I blushed knowing it was true.

Once last summer when I was 15, Roxie was over after a pool party. I wasn't into the whole swimming in the pool with like fifty other kids thing so I just stayed on the side. But anyway, when we got back to my place my mom was gone. She's gone a lot; I don't really mind it I'm old enough to be left alone. I went upstairs and started to change. I didn't realize till my trunks where down to my knees that I left the door open and there was Roxie in full shock of seeing me in my birthday suit. That was the most awkward moment between me and Roxie. We stared at each other for what felt for years and then we just broke out laughing I pulled my trunks up by then though. She still picks on me about it.

"Shut up." I said, laughing anyway.

"Can ya," I sputtered

"Yh-Yeah" she said nodding, getting up, and going downstairs.

Roxie basically lived with us. She hated her home. Her father was an alcoholic and abusive, emotionally and physically. Roxie told us when I was in sixth grade, well she told my mom in sixth grade. She told me in fourth. Her dad wanted a "real son" this time around. Mack, her brother, had asthma, bad and couldn't play sports. Her dad was a real "manly man" he was the kind of guy that yells at the TV during a football game. When he was "bitterly cursed" with a beautiful baby girl, he lost interest in the family and started drinking again. The first time Roxie remembers her dad hitting her, not just her brother or mother, was in second grade. She got a demerit in class for talking. She didn't come to school for a while but I still saw her she'd ride her bike to our house. She had a bad black eye. We didn't tell my mother though. We where too scared. I've suspected him of sexual abuse but haven't brought it up.

I got dressed. A pair of old run-down jeans and a real vintage Pink Floyd shirt my mom bought from her high school buddy for like one-hundred and fifty bucks. I loved her for it, actually I didn't; I loved her for giving birth to me and not killing me. I walked down stairs. Passing my moms wall murals she did when I was seven, I remember "helping" by painting my own wall. It looked like Sherwin Williams threw up on it. But my mom was more proud of me than ever. I walked down the last step facing the front door and walking into the kitchen on our well worn in wood floor. The varnish wasn't even on it anymore. Roxie was leaning against the island with a cup of Acai juice in her hand.

I sighed as I opened the refrigerator eyeing the nutrients in there and pulled out some turkey lunch meat and sat up on the counter then ate it. Roxie sighed.

"What should we do today?" she said gloomily.

"I unno…" I responded.

"Wanna go to The Shops?" I suggested.

"What the hell…" she mumbled walking out the swinging kitchen door to put on her shoes and grab her purse and coat.

Roxie had shoulder-length red hair it was layered and had streaks of platinum blond, from art camp. She wore a pair of well worn in jeans and a baggy Beatles shirt. Her hair was straightened like usual, to different angles. She had tied up her hair in a small bun, only half of her hair was in it she let her bangs hang down around her face and the bottom layer of her hair was down. She had put on neon purple, pink, and green eye shadow, it looked like a rainbow around her eyes. She pulled her purse up and around her. It was a long big massager bag that had was a greenish tan and had patchwork on it.

"Ready?" she asked waiting for me.

"No." I responded pulling on my converse and trudging upstairs to do my hair. Sounds girly don't it? Ha, well it is, isn't it, my hair doesn't do what I want it to do naturally so I spike it up; it ends up a bit poofy. Roxie says I look like some guy from some anime show.

I walked downstairs finally ready.

"Mkay." I said to Roxie as she opened the door.

"The Shops" are a line of stores around city hall. They have a lot of artsy stores in their. My mom and Roxie usually buy their clothes in there. We took our time getting there, walking the long way through the park talking about how evil girls are.

"Yah see a girls idea of getting a guy to fall in love with her is by telling him his girlfriend is cheating on him when is isn't. A guy's idea of winning a girl's heart is by telling her she's pretty and hanging out with her." Roxie finished her long rant.

"That's why I'm gay." I said.

We both laughed. Roxie decided, for both of us that we should go into the coffee shop first. It was ten times better than Starbucks but not a chain, that's why it was so good. Roxie likes it because of the coffee; I like it because from what I know they've never hired a straight guy. We passed the football field on the way there. There was Scott Taylor, the ONLY hot guy in our school. He moved here in freshmen year (now we're juniors).

"God is an artist." Roxie said staring at him with me.

"Yeh-yeah." I stuttered awkwardly.

He was tan and very muscular. He was that perfect ethnic mix, like the guys in all the romance movies. He had wavy shiny black hair, it wasn't very long only touched the bottoms of his ears. He was really tall like 5'10". I was only 5'6", a midget compared to him or at least I felt like it. He had bright blue eyes. He had gone out with almost every girl in the school, at least the popular ones. Every girl at school was after him too. Roxie was well assured she didn't have a chance. I doubted shed get along with him and if she did he still wouldn't really be the right guy for her. I could see her with a musician or a poet or something but never a jock.

"Come on," said Roxie walking towards the coffee shop.

When we got there a girl with long silky brown hair was working at the counter and the guy who made the coffee looked like the hulk but not green, I coward behind Roxie.

"Where to now," Roxie asked while drinking her green tea frappacino.

"I unno" I said plainly.

Roxie sighed. We sat down in town square on a small wooden bench.

"Sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun…" Roxie began to sing.

Sometimes we would just sit and sing songs we had stuck in our heads. You can tell how bored we got.

"If the sun don't come you get your tan from standing in the English rain I am the egg man We are the egg men And I am the walrus Coo coo ca choo, ca coo coo ca choo…"

We sang but the song sonly died out of loss of concentration on the lyrics. It more turned in to unorganized humming. We laughed at our lack of rhythm and tone. Roxie could sing. At art camp she was in a small band with her roommates and was in the camp play, which was a musical. She also just sang whenever she wanted. They where usually songs we both knew or have heard.

"I miss camp." Roxie said sadly.

"Yeah me too, except Johnny." I said.

Roxie laughed. Johnny, well Johnny, he was different. He was known to be a "mhore", a man whore. He would act like your best friend, sleep with you, then leave you completely and move on to the next poor guy.

Art camp rocked. There where like no rules at all. Well, technically you couldn't be out of you cabin at ten but as long as you didn't like run into the councilors' cabin and screamed right next to their sleeping ear. There where only maybe five straight guys there, and like three of them only went to meet girls the other two where there because they liked art and where usually really nerdy. You didn't have to worry about people judging you there.

"Let's go see a movie." Roxie suggested.

"Sure, why not." I said plainly.

We ended up seeing a horror film and laughing through it just to see what the other people in the theater did. The movie, otherwise, sucked. When we got out it was surprisingly dark out.

"Should we call your mom?" Roxie asked.

"I doubt she's home…" I said.

"I guess…" said Roxie.

We walked home in the dark. Scott was now walking around the shops. We walked the long way home to avoid bumping in to him. On the way home we sang "Here Comes the Sun" because the sun wouldn't be coming out for a while. We really didn't have anything better to do.

"Mind if I stay over tonight?" Roxie asked sounding desperate.

"WOW!" I exclaimed.

"Sicko, no it just you know my dad…" she started.

"Yeah I know I was joking." I said regretting my remark.

"I know." She said.

The rest of the way home we didn't talk.