Getting Out - Part One

Jim woke up with a jolt and stared at his beige ceiling. He turned to his left and stared at his beige wall for a bit before deciding to get out of his cream coloured bed and pad over to his crisp white computer. Boring. Life was just so boring.

He opened up his email to find three new jobs and a reply from the soccer mum he had ‘helped out’ two days ago. She had wanted to know the reason her lovely, sweet teenage boy would put a password on his computer account and requested Jim hack in and find out what he was hiding. He had charged her £200.00 for the privilege of telling her the blatantly obvious and emailed the kid telling him to get a smartphone and never tell his mother. Boring. Even breaking the law was no fun anymore. It did have its benefits though. He was never short of cash and soon he’d have enough to move out.

He heard the front door click shut and looked at the clock. 7 AM. His Dad was arriving home from work then. Another half an hour before he could make his way downstairs. He opened one of the new jobs and, having received confirmation that the first £100.00 upfront payment had been made, started to work. He re-read the desperate mother’s plea that he invade her child's privacy for their own good. This one was worried that her daughter was being corrupted by hairy internet men. Apparently her child had taken to cutting her hair short and not shaving her legs. Some people were idiots.

“Walnut?” Jim said aloud to no one in particular. “Walnut? Who uses Walnut as their password?” His only reply was the industrious hammering of a nearby Woodpecker. More importantly, he thought, who can’t spell Walnut? The kid had based their password on the name of their childhood imaginary friend, Walnut Barney (some people really should not be allowed to blog publicly) and hadn’t even used auto-correct for their spelling. After reading through said blog, he was at the point of wanting to gouge his eyes out in self-defence before the answer had finally come to him. He had typed in WallNutt and that was it. Another kid’s egocentric life laid bare in front of him. He had emailed the brat's Mother with links to her own child’s blog, along with a few books on being a good parent to a transgender teenager and the password to her kids account. That was done. He would receive the next £100.00 in a few days. If not, his client's lives would become increasingly difficult until paying was far easier than not. Boring.

A bird chirped merrily above his head. Jim cursed. All he wanted was for something remotely interesting to happen. Was that too much to ask? His shoes kicked at leaves as he made his way through the woods. He’d slipped past his Dad in silence and was now heading to his usual morning café. He was eighteen but looked a lot younger and had found that the more bedraggled he looked, the more discount the lady behind the till gave him; although it did mean that he had to put up with being fussed over for the first five minutes after he arrived, but once he pulled out his laptop she generally got the message. Dull.

His toe hit a rock and he swore loudly. Looking down he saw the culprit and, resisting the urge to kick it again out of anger, picked up the damn stone and threw it in the direction of the nearest chirping thing. Growling and hopping slightly, he looked down again. Metal caught his eye. Reaching down and scraping the mud away, Jim saw that it was a ring and a rather nice one at that. He rubbed away the excess dirt and pocketed it.

Once he reached the café, he ducked into the toilets and cleaned off the rest of the dirt. Holding it at arm’s length, he simply admired his find. It was clearly old and had two matching bands that could be turned. At even intervals there were symbols etched into the metal and it seemed that you could turn the two bands to pair up the symbols in different combinations. It was obviously a very expensive piece and, with a smile as he tried it on, Jim found that it fit his middle finger perfectly. Well, that was something, he thought as he made his way to his usual seat, allowing his features to fall into what he thought of as his ‘lost little puppy’ expression. He wasn’t at all surprised when Elaine, the owner, rushed towards him with his usual Mocha-Latté and toasted tea cake.

He pulled his laptop from his bag and began to read. He had an hour to kill before College and there was an update from his contact in Samsung to look through.

***

Oh dear lord, why? It was only eleven and he was stuck listening to Mrs Spritz jabber on about ‘Archimedes' constant’ like it wasn’t just Pi. She’d lost the class at the first mention of the Greek Mathematician and now she was desperately trying to re-engage with her students by listing all the way’s Pi could be used. This was not going to go well. It was a shame really because Mrs Spritz was a very smart woman, attractive too. She was just not a good teacher. She was the quintessential geek’s fantasy; young, dressed in a tight black pencil skirt and close-fitting white shirt. She had thick wavy black hair and glasses that drew attention to her green eyes and high cheekbones. The simple but effective use of makeup and elegant jewellery let Jim know that she was well aware of how she looked. She just lacked any ability to communicate with a classroom full of people. The College must be seriously desperate for staff, he thought, as he swirled the bands on his new ring, to have hired her.

Jim turned in his seat and watched Sally Parker frantically text Helen Newman, trying to hide her phone under her desk. Obviously she’d finally given in and slept with Ben Fowler if the smug, satisfied look on his face was anything to go by. Turning to his right he saw that Hazel Stone had actually fallen asleep at her corner desk and even the thought of Mrs Spritz’s cleavage wasn’t enough to keep the rest of the class focused apparently. Still, only an hour and a half to go. Click went his ring as he found a new combination of symbols. He sighed, apparently today was going to be as dull as ever.

***

Today was going to be awesome! Dean had his new ID, new outfit and new life. His slate was wiped clean and for the first time ever he was free to do whatever the hell he wanted. Dean caught his reflection in the glass doors of the College campus and couldn’t help chuckling at the goofy grin he saw on his face. He was really doing this. Taking a deep breath, he pushed at the doors and walked forward into his new life.

***

Oh, my God, how stupid could some people be? Seriously if he had to listen to one more idiotic teenage girl fawn over Sebastian he was going to have to take drastic action. I mean, come on, the guy wasn’t in the least bit interested in anyone at school and he’d made it pretty clear. Yet here she was, another hopeful, annoying brat of a first-year practically plastering herself to his side. If it weren’t for the fact that Sebastian was loyal to a fault and had a punch like a steel bar on steroids, Jim would have ditched him years ago; but the guy was the closest thing he had to a friend and he’d followed Jim into College without a second thought. Loyalty like that was hard to come by and he bit down on his frustration. What Sebastian wanted, Sebastian got; that was the deal. He looked after Jim and Jim looked after him. Jim looked up from his sandwich and took in the girls details. She had dyed blonde hair but dark brown roots were beginning to show through. Her nails were polished but not professionally so; the little flakes around the edges where it was beginning to fall away made him internally cringe. At first glance, her dress looked expensive but the stitching was coming loose around her upper right sleeve and she would have a hole there before the week was out.

Ignoring her words, he focused more closely upon the girl’s face. Her smile was all teeth, her deep red lips pulling wide as she laughed way too enthusiastically at something Sebastian had just said. He allowed his gaze to move up to look at her eyes. They were wide and hopeful, the soft hazel brown of her iris’ had been accentuated by skilfully applied autumnal makeup. He heard her laugh again; her smile didn't quite make it to her eyes and her tone was a bit too high to be born of true happiness. Desperation, desire and greed practically poured off of her. Jim could never understand why no one else could see these things. To him, it was as obvious and as easy as breathing. People were so transparent, so predictable, so...dull.

Sebastian came from old money. His family had been rich for as long as currency had been in existence and this little wannabe was throwing herself at his friend, not because she liked Sebastian as a person but because she wanted full access to his allowance. It was time to step in. Whilst Jim personally had no problem with the idea of utilising another individual for what they could get you, Sebastian was off-limits. The man was his, and from the grimace that he was trying to hide behind a polite smile, Sebastian didn’t like the new girl any more than he did. It was only a week into the new term and already Jim had had to chase off three other hopeful gold diggers. After lunch, he was going to have to talk to the guy but until then, plan B it was. Sebastian wasn’t happy and it was up to Jim to rectify the situation.

Sighing deeply, he allowed a slight lisp to enter his voice and brought his head up to look directly at Sebastian, his expression fond but rather exasperated.

“Seb, honey, you know I don’t mind you flirting with the girls but do you have to do it in front of me?” He trailed his fingers gently across Sebastian’s free hand. The guy had a death grip on his fork but at Jim's touch, it loosened slightly.

Sebastian met his gaze and smirked. He shifted slightly in his seat, understanding the game and playing along.

“Yeah, I know, sorry darling. She’s just so damn cute, how could I say no to those puppy dog eyes?” He poked at the end of the girl’s nose and she flinched back in astonishment.

“What? You two are together?” Her head moved between the two of them. They were sitting across the dining table from each other and her eyes, if it were possible, went even wider than before as Jim ‘accidentally’ allowed his leg to brush in between Sebastian’s and hers in a blatant game of footsie. Sebastian only just managed to suppress a laugh, turning it into a self-conscious cough at the last minute.

“Of course,” Jim said, playing up the camp tone and leaning further across the table to play with one of Sebastian's many bracelets. “We’ve been together since high school but Seb likes to play at being straight for the new girls. Drives me up the wall, but, what can you do? When your boyfriends as hot as he is, it’s worth all the short skirts and high heels he wants to mess around with. But,” Jim looked sternly across at Sebastian. “The deal was that you didn’t bring them home with you and I didn’t have to put up with their googly eyes over lunch.” He batted at Sebastian’s wrist playfully.

Sebastian’s gaze fell. “Yeah, sorry. I just got carried away, I suppose.” He let go of the fork, turned his hand to hold onto Jim's and drew circles into his palm with his thumb. “Make it up to you later?” Sebastian’s eyebrow was raised and his mouth was crooked into a smirk that was pure sin.

The girl pushed herself away from him as if he were on fire. “You dick!” She yelled. “You complete dick! You could've told me you had a boyfriend, you know? You let me think that you liked me!” She grabbed for her bag and started to flounce away.

“Oh, come on sweetie!” Sebastian called after her. “It wasn’t like you asked if I was seeing anyone.” The cafeteria doors slammed shut behind her and Sebastian burst into laughter. “Thanks, man, I owe you, she just was not taking no for an answer.”

“You owe me more than one,” Jim said, taking his hand back and starting in on his meal. He could finally concentrate on his food and the freshly baked bread and lovingly prepared bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches of the college kitchen staff were something to take your time over.

“So,” Sebastian asked. “How long before we have to break up this time?”

***

Man, British chicks were hot. Dean was being directed to the dining hall by the cutest little brunette. He’d met her in his first class of the day. She’d said her name was Jasmine and he’d made some crack about Aladdin that she must have heard a thousand times, but she'd laughed and flirted back anyway, her cheeks dimpling as she smiled. He hadn’t really heard what his new English teacher was talking about after that but he was sure he could grab notes off of someone if he needed them. English had blended seamlessly into Geography and he’d been thrilled to find that Jasmine was taking that class too. She’d introduced him to her other friends and Dean he'd decided then and there that heaven not only existed but that he had somehow fallen headfirst into it. He’d sat down between Jasmine and a girl called Sally, who’s phone appeared to be permanently glued to her hand, and drank everything in. He’d marvelled at the way the English sunlight streaming in from outside appeared somehow cooler than back home; and watched as it filtered through the small Victorian windows, lighting the old stone walls of the ancient building with an almost blue-light. He’d smiled at the straining bookcases. They were overflowing almost to the point of breaking with well-worn textbooks, spare compasses and, he'd squinted, a stuffed owl?

When he’d walked into the classroom he’d stared at the maps that were pinned up between the windows and had been lost for a second before he'd realised that they were all UK centric and, of course, wouldn’t have the US located in the middle. America seemed a lot smaller on these ones too. But before he could ask anyone, he’d seen the teacher stride in and introduce himself as Mr Walker. He'd actually apologised to the class, saying that Miss Wise couldn’t make it in because she’d been taken ill. No one seemed phased by this, so, he assumed, it must be normal. The guy had assured the class that he had her lesson plan and that things were going to progress as usual. No one batted an eye. He’d passed out some sheets of paper and then began to talk without bothering to check if the class was even listening to what he was saying. Dean felt Jasmine’s leg brush against his. Man, England was confusing, but lord, did it rule!

It was three hours later and Jasmine was leading Dean towards the dining hall. She was asking him about America and why he’d moved. He was making up some bull about his Dad getting relocated because of his work when a skinny blonde burst through the doors in front of him. Before he had time to stop her, she had Jasmine by the arm and was dragging her away, screeching about some guy called Sebastian having a boyfriend and what she was going to do to him the next time she saw him. Dean was impressed at her creativity despite the fact that the new chick was dragging Jasmine towards, what appeared to be, a side entrance to an outside courtyard. Jasmine was looking at him helplessly and mouthing silent apologies as she allowed herself to be dragged further away. He waved to her, offering an equally silent, “No worries,” and held his hand up to his ear in the universal gesture of ‘call me’. Jasmine grinned and nodded enthusiastically despite her friend’s ongoing tirade.

Oh well, it looked like he was going to have to eat alone after all.

After gathering together what looked to be a very promising meal, he looked around the room for somewhere to sit. The hall was just like all the other rooms in the building. Its walls were made of old grey stone and its floors tiled in local slate. Despite the medieval feel of it, the place had large modern double glazed windows and the latest in unobtrusive lighting and sound systems. The tables were made of wood but were clearly new and the chairs were the kind that could easily be stacked in a corner when not in use. Dean liked the place. He felt more welcome here than he ever had back home. It’d certainly been the right decision to leave.

Nearly all the tables were full and he definitely didn’t want to sit alone. He eyed one of the nearly empty tables towards the centre of the room hopefully. There were only two guys sat at it. One was large, well-muscled and wearing a Metallica t-shirt with a tight-fitting leather jacket over the top and the other was a lot smaller, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and trousers combo that made him seem like a lawyer in training. He had his back to Dean and was clearly absorbed in whatever he was eating.

“Screw it, what’s the worst that could happen?” He muttered to himself as he made his way over. The Metallica guy looked up as he got closer and straightened out in his seat a little, loosening his shoulders in the way extras in the martial arts movies Dean loved so much always seemed to do. A strand of his long hair fell from behind his ear and he brushed it away.

“You’ve got good taste,” Dean said in his best, non-threatening tone. “Master of Puppets was the best they ever did, although, personally, I must admit to having a soft spot for The Black Album. I mean, Enter Sandman, The Unforgiven, Wherever I May Roam...man, pure gold.” The Metallica fan smiled and looked over to the smaller boy, who Dean could now see was still studiously eating his sandwich and hadn’t shown any sign of even noticing that he was even there. In response to Metallica’s quizzical glance, however, he spoke up.

“Sebastian likes you, sit.” He waved nonchalantly at the seat next to him and the tone of command in those simple words had Dean’s legs moving as if of their own accord. Before he knew it, he was sitting at the table opposite the Metallica fan, with the smaller boy to his right.

“I’m Jim, this, as I have just mentioned, is Sebastian and you are?”

Dean managed to hold back a flinch as Jim turned the most penetrating glare he'd ever seen in his direction. The kid's eyes were ice blue and his skin was a pale contrast to his short black hair. There was no warmth to him at all, no kindness hiding in faint laughter lines and no air of mischief or fun lurking behind his words. The guy was pure, unadulterated calculation.

Fast regretting his decision to sit with them, Dean managed answer, “Dean, Dean Whitehouse, nice to meet you?”

“Is it?” Jim sounded bored. He returned to his sandwich, evidently finding that more interesting than the conversation.

Dean looked across the table, giving up on Jim as a bad job. “Sebastian right?” He held his hand out and Sebastian shook it, grinning in amusement at the bewildered look on Dean’s face.

“Yeah, don’t mind him. He gets cranky when people interrupt his alone time with the BLT.”

“Riiiight.” Dean eyed Jim warily and tried to surreptitiously move further away from him. The guy gave him the creeps and he didn’t like what had just happened. He'd had enough experience with people like Jim to last a lifetime and didn’t relish the thought of spending any more time with him. Internally filing the kid under ‘Disturbing and Stay the Hell Away’, he focused on Sebastian, blocking all thoughts of his past behind a very sturdy mental brick wall.

He did have to admit that Sebastian seemed like an OK guy, though. Great taste in music for a start and he had a decent sense of humour. Although, he could have sworn he’d heard his name somewhere before. “Wait, Sebastian?”

“Yeah, that’s my name?”

“You didn’t happen to know a skinny blonde chick, left here a few minutes ago? She was screaming about cheating pricks with boyfriends?” he asked.

Sebastian snorted. “Who, Janine? Had a little black dress and a scary pink bag?”

“I didn’t catch the bag but yeah, black dress, blonde hair and death threats, sums her up pretty well, I’d say. She was rambling about Facebook assassination, or possibly hiring a hitman, I couldn’t tell. Anyway, dude, I’d make sure you don’t leave your laptop open anywhere near her any time soon. Oh, and stay away from the windows.”

“Thanks.” Sebastian’s voice was a deep and happy rumble.

How he could possibly be friends with a guy like Jim was beyond Dean, let alone be his boyfriend. Trying hard not to picture it, Dean asked, “So, are you two...” He trailed off and simply waved his hand towards Jim who was still determinedly eating.

Sebastian laughed again. “Nah, that was just one of Jim’s little jokes. She wouldn’t take the hint, so we let her think that we were together, but we aren’t. I’m spoken for and Jim’s, well, he’s Jim. As far as he’s concerned us mortals are a necessary evil, am I right?”

“Unfortunately.”

“See, all laughs and sunshine. Don’t worry, when he takes over the world I’ll be sure to get you in with the top-level minions.”

Dean couldn’t help laughing. Jim hadn’t even blinked, either he had a sense of humour that was spectacularly well hidden or he really was planning on world domination. Brushing that image to the side, he asked, “So, if you’re spoken for, what’s with the scary blonde?”

“I’m rich,” Sebastian said simply. “She’s the fourth this week, that’s a new record for me.” He winked. “The ladies simply can’t resist the smell of money.”

“Yeah, well, from the way she was shouting you might be getting a bit of interest from the guys too,” Dean warned.

“Not if I have anything to say about it. They know better than to hit on him while he’s dating me.” Jim smiled like a cat who had laid eyes on a particularly fat and juicy looking mouse. “So let’s not make it five shall we Sebastian? There’s only so many bimbo’s I can cope with, after all, and your pen-pal might start to get jealous should they mysteriously hear rumours about your daytime activities.” Jim pointedly wiped at his mouth with a napkin he’d pulled from his pocket. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me I have some business that needs to be taken care of.”

He made his way through the hall and out of the exit, the crowds parting for him in the same way fish did around a shark.

“I know it’s none of my business...” Dean whispered, staring at the dining room doors as they closed behind Jim.

“No, it isn’t,” Sebastian said. “Remember that and we’ll be fine.”

To Be Continued...