Unknown Love Ch. 01

Cigarette butts lay scattered on the ground as the aroma of cheap cologne and wildflowers wafts through the air. Typical, nothing day on a community college campus. The newness hasn't worn off yet. Everyone is still walking around with that wistful air of happiness. It's enough to make man puke. Give it a week or two; they'll be bitching soon enough.

This is my second year. On a university campus, I'd only be a step above a freshman. This aint a university. It's a college in a town of less than fifty-thousand people. A second year man, such as myself, may as well be an old hand.

Everyone here either looks too young to be here or are clearly going back to school after some failed career path. The people in my first class pegged me as one of those idiots who 'vacations' for a couple of years before lazing into college life.

I suppose I've never looked my age. I can still remember my freshman year of high school. After being sent to the nurse's office when I puked on Ms. Stafford's desk, the nurse kindly told me I could go ahead and leave. I politely stood there for a moment. Living in the country, one does not simply leave when they can't drive. The bus would've passed me at the half-way mark. After about fifteen seconds I asked her if she was going to call someone.

"Can you not drive?" she asked.

"No ma'am. I'm fourteen."

"Oh my, I thought you were a senior. Well bless your heart, you're going to knock the girls round here right off their feet." Not likely.

I suppose there are worse things than looking older. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll stay looking thirty even when I'm fifty. Sure, it's a disadvantage right now, but I'm thinking of it as a new pair of boots; if you can ride out the bad, there'll be plenty of good. Just got to break them in.

"What up Jamie?"

"Nothing much Bulldog."

Bulldog is Alex's nickname. One look at the big bastard renders any explanation moot. He was the starting middle linebacker for our high school's team before a rough tackle messed up his back. He still works out plenty. His shoulder and neck muscles are so bulky it looks like his torso is trying to swallow his head. Within two minutes of meeting each other, I was calling him bulldog. He didn't like it... at first.

"How's day one so far?"

"Fine," I answered. "Every teacher wants to do that stupid 'tell the class a little bit about yourself' shit."

"I hate doing that! Why do they pretend like we're going to see any of these people again?"

"I'm told it's to help build people skills."

"My people skills are perfect."

"I'm sure half the female population of Stonewall High can attest to that."

"Only half? You know I'm better than that." Him and that stupid half grin.

"You look like a jackass when you smile like that."

"You're no fun. Don't pretend like you don't remember the good ole days."

"What, living party to party you mean?"

He shrugged. He knows I'm right. Football opened many doors for us, including the ones which lead to every part within a fifty mile radius of this shit little town. Between Bulldog and myself, we made just about all of them. I've puked in in more front yards than I care to admit to. We've pulled each other out of ditches too many times to simply be friends anymore. We're not brothers like all these other dumb asses like to throw around. We could be separated for a decade and pick up where we left off. We don't need to talk every day to maintain our friendship. It's a bond that defies a word. How do you say what your buddy is to you? He just is.

"I'm not sure if I should be happy those days are over or not." I said.

"I know my liver's a lot happier." He said, followed by a throaty chuckle.

"Kinda wish we could still play. At least we wouldn't be stuck here."

"Same, but it's not worth it anymore, for either of us."

I was starting fullback. The play that ended football for me was just a simple run up the middle, with the fullback blocking for the halfback. A linebacker ran around our line tackling our halfback, Lamar Jones, from behind.

Lamar falls forward... right on my fucking knee. I was busy blocking a two hundred-fifty pound defensive lineman. When Lamar fell, I had my weight plus Lamar's, all topped off with fat-boy's shapely figure pressing down on my precious knee. A torn ACL, PCL, and MCL, as well as the meniscus, plus some cartilage being removed, equals a very bad day for me. Several surgeries and plenty of physical therapy later, I can walk without a limp on the good days with only a slightly noticeable one on the bad days.

"Did I tell you? I bought a new brace." I tapped the metal against my skin softly.

"Dude, we're twenty-one. We sound like two old geezers sitting around a bar, not two college students! Do you have any blood pressure meds you'd like to tell me about?"

I started to respond when some rather poorly contained laughter interrupted me.

"See, he agrees with me." Alex said, while pointing to a small guy on the opposite side of the gazebo.

He looked at us through his little emo hair, a half smile stamped upon his lips. I suppose it looked good on him. I could never pull off black hair with cyan tipped bangs. People would ask if I thought it was Halloween.

"Ya'll can't be that banged up. How long did you two play?"

"I wanted to answer the little smart ass. Almost did too. A huge slap on the back from a gorilla made sure I didn't.

"Me and Zebra here been together since Peewee." Said Bulldog while talking over my coughing.

"Zebra? They call you Zebra?" The little wise ass was actually laughing at me.

"It's a long story."

"I got time."

"It's really not that interesting-"

"Oh contraire, I think our new friend would love to hear this, wouldn't you..." Bulldog gestured towards little emo blue.

"Kyle. Kyle Warner."

"Well Kyle, allow Zebra to entertain you with the Zebra Cake story." Bulldog clapped his hands like he was starting a damn play, looking ever so innocent at me. Kyle still had that boyish grin, but was leaning forward, anxious to hear.

"Fuck it, why not." I leaned back, crossing my legs.

"Bulldog and I were sitting in the back corner of our tenth grade driver's education course, next to the windows. We were talking quietly for a change. Suddenly, this obnoxious girl in the front, who had been extremely loud as was her usual, turns around and tells me to shut up. She was a bit on the large side of life, so I said, 'I'm going to throw a Zebra Cake out this window and watch your fat ass go chase it.'" Kyle was laughing a bit. Probably would be more if he'd stop trying to cover it up with his hand. I continued.

"She looked at me and said 'what did you just say to me?'" I through in a little head bob along with a hand on my hip and a finger wave.

"So, very slowly, I repeated myself."

"The whole class is howling by now." Added Bulldog.

"She turns to the teacher-"

"Who has his head down crying from laughter." Bulldog again.

"And says 'Waller, are you going to let him talk to me like that?'"

I made my voice as deep and gravelly as I could.

"Lisa, just shut the hell up."

We all had a good laugh. Bulldog never gets tired of that story. Kyle was still trying to hide behind his hand. What little of him that wasn't hidden, either by hair or hand, was bright red.

"I've been Zebra Cake ever since, Zebra for short."

"Well, it's been nice meeting you Kyle. I gotta get to class." Said Bulldog, standing up.

"Seeya Bulldog."

"So long." Kyle waved.

I went to sit next to Kyle so I wouldn't feel like an idiot all by myself on the other side of the gazebo.

"Alrightie Kyle, we're not talking about the weather; I don't need a reminder of how hot it is." He chuckled. "So pick something besides that."

He immediately came back with, "What's your major?"

"Criminal Justice. Want to be a cop. You?"

"Criminal Justice with a computer emphasis, for cybercrime and the like."

"That's cool. I certainly couldn't picture you as a patrol officer."

"Yeah, I'd probably try to tackle a guy like you and get dragged down the street."

"Come now, I'm nowhere near as big as Alex."

"Alex?"

"You didn't think his name was Bulldog, did you?"

He blushed, ducking his head as he did so.

"He doesn't look like an Alex."

"Oh, just what does he look like?" I bumped my shoulder with his, causing him to tip over, almost falling off the bench. He came back with a shove with both hands on my chest, to no avail. He sat back with a huff.

"Jesus Christ, you're a thick bastard."

"Hey, thick is not a compliment. I prefer built."

"I'm sure you would." He said with a giggle.

We sat talking for the next hour before his next class. We exchanged numbers. I'd asked him to come hang out with me and Alex that weekend. He went off to his class. I stayed at the gazebo to wait for Alex. I only had one class on Mondays while Alex had two. We ride together, so I was stuck waiting.

Oh well. It had been a good day. Made a new friend. What more can a man ask for out of a single day?