Chapter 1: The Beginning

.                    April 16th, 2010: Friday

                                  Spring

                                ~~~~~~~

  Dillon opened his eyes when his alarm went off that signaled it was five thirty in the morning. He looked over at his phone on the nightstand, which blasted Coolio's 'Gangsta's Paradise' at top volume. It was one of his favourite songs, although in this context it was his least favourite. It meant that he had to get up, get in the wet shower, get dressed, have breakfast, and leave for stupid school. 

  He reached over and aggressively dismissed the alarm and sat up. While he could just go back to sleep and say he forgot to set his alarm, he decided not to play hookie. Besides, he was excited for culinary class today. A speaker from The Restaurant School at Walnut Hill College was supposed to come in. They planned to do a demonstration, and to tell all of them about why their school is so great. Walnut Hill College was a renowned culinary institution, and Dillon considered it a future possibility. 

  After he sat in bed and stared up at the ceiling for a few beats, Dillon forced himself to move. As he rubbed his face, he walked over to his clothes closet and rummaged through his options. Once he had selected a black Harlem T-shirt, a pair of khaki shorts, black socks and boxers, he went into the bathroom. Dillon dreaded morning showers, and only took them so early out of necessity. He had to be clean for school and culinary class, after all. It sucked to have to get drenched first thing after he woke up, although it helped him wake up quickly. As he stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, Dillon picked up his phone and checked the time. It was five forty-three. 

  He had mastered the art of the speed shower, mostly so he could use the extra time to play Farmville and go through Facebook on his phone. The bus came at around seven, so he had the time to get ready at a more reasonable pace. After he was showered, he went upstairs to feed the cats and himself. As a type-one diabetic, Dillon made sure he had breakfast in some form, so his blood sugar didn't dip low later on. Even if it was just a bagel or something, he made sure to eat. It was instinct at that point. Also he couldn't really ignore the need to go into the kitchen every morning. The second he set foot upstairs the cats would start to harass him immediately until he gave them food. 

  That was another fact about Dillon. He loved animals and anything biology more than he loved most people. He had two cats, two gerbils, a couple of parakeets, and a few aquariums. Aquariums were his expertise. A lot of the time when he wanted alone time, he would find refuge in the animals and aquariums he had in his room. It gave Dillon something to care for and love. It also gave him extra little ears to talk to about his troubles. They may not have understood him, but they were adorable and furry on top of their ability to be great listeners. 

  Dillon decided to go with a bowl of honey nut Cheerios, and started to eat as he went back downstairs. It helped him to relax sometimes when he would eat his breakfast while he turned on the aquarium lights and took the cover off the birdcage. It was a good way to start his day. He went around and checked how everyone was, and fed those who needed to be fed. When he cared for the animals, he felt loved. Animals loved unconditionally and at the time, Dillon felt incredibly unloved and unheard by those around him. A healthy dose of critter love before school always started his day off nicely.

  Satisfied that the critters were taken care of, Dillon went back upstairs while he finished his breakfast. On the way up he looked at his phone and it showed six thirty-two. Factor in the almost fifteen minute walk to the bus stop, and he had around ten minutes before he had to leave. He always left a few minutes early in case the bus was actually on time. Dillon had spent the last few minutes on dumb Facebook games, until he hunted for and put on his sneakers(Converse, of course), grabbed his thin black hoodie, and his backpack. 

  Dillon left for the bus stop an hour and a half earlier than his parents did for work. His father worked as a tax accountant for a printer manufacturer, and his stepmom(whom he just called mom) worked administration in the development of pharmaceuticals. They sounded like fancy job titles that pay well, but in reality they struggled. The tax rate wasn't cheap in the city. Plus, there was the recession that hit a couple years before. His parents had always done their utmost to provide for him, and he loved them for it. Dillon walked to the start of the hallway, and spoke back to his parents bedroom. 

  "A'ight, I'll see you's guys tonight! Have a good day, yea?" Dillon said loud and bright. His mom popped her head out of the door.

  "Ok sweetie, kick some ass for me today!" She winked at him. "You comin' home after school or stayin' late?" 

  "Uhh, not sure. I'll text you!"

  "Alrighty, be careful! Love ya!"

  "Will do! You too!"

  Dillon set out for the bus stop. It was a little bit of a hike, since the bus didn't go into his neighborhood. The streets were too narrow, so he had to go to the closest stop to him. Dillon didn't mind the walk, though. It gave him time to think, collect himself, and listen to the radio to find new songs to download to his playlist. The weather had turned quite nice, mid-fifties and sunny. It had Dillon relaxed even more. Maybe today would be a good day. He kind of looked forward to it. It felt like today had something special in store. 

  After a few, Dillon saw the auto body repair shop that marked the halfway point to the bus stop. It was a nice tan and grey building that looked like it had been recently renovated. It had a four-car garage and when Dillon passed every morning, they were all open for business. He tried not to look too long, since a couple of the guys there would trigger that. He always waved, though. It never hurt to be friendly. 

  There was one guy there that he had met up close one time. It was a few months before, when Dillon had walked his usual route to the bus stop. When he reached the halfway point, he went to cross the entrance to the shop lot. Out of nowhere, he was cut off by a rusted out Cadillac. Dillon stopped dead so he didn't die of vehicular manslaughter and saw the driver was one of the mechanics. The mechanic looked up at him with wide, almost amber eyes. Just the eye contact had Dillon's stomach in knots, and he felt his face heat up. The mechanic waved at him with a casual "Sorry, man", and Dillon waved back with a nod.

  That was triggered big-time. Dillon couldn't get those sun-lit amber eyes out his mind. That made him blush when he thought of the mechanic's muscular arms and shoulders in his black tank top. That turned him on when he thought of his sharp jawline and lightly tanned skin. That made him daydream about what his short, wavy, walnut-brown hair would feel like in between his fingers. That made him crave the mechanic's deep voice and masculine air. Dillon really hated that, and it was nearly impossible to fight it. To say it exhausted him was the understatement of the century.

  Dillon passed the shop without incident, and saw that the mechanic's shop was still closed. Maybe he was sick or called out. Who knew? All he wanted to focus on right now was school, not the damned mechanic. Once Dillon had arrived at the bus stop, he was greeted by his friend Katrina Ceres, aka Kat. Kat and he shared a couple classes and had been buddies since the start of freshman year. She was hysterical, kind, and a total tomboy that didn't take any lip from anybody. They had a lot in common. If Dillon wasn't sick with that maybe they could be something more. Regardless, she was a good friend that was always down for nerdy science talk and was a huge Philadelphia Eagles fan, just like him. Kat lived right up the street too, so they were able to hang out and watch games. It was a nice escape from that, one of the few he had. Dillon smiled as he walked up her. 

  "Mornin' darlin'! How is Kat today?" Dillon said in an annoyingly peppy tone. Kat hated mornings probably more than he did.

  "Ugh, shut up, Dill. You know this is the devil's hour. I slept in hella fuckin' late, too. I wanted to finish my social studies shit earlier but now I gotta do it in homeroom," she replied with a huff.

  "Bitch, when you gonna learn time management?"

  "Oh piss off Mr. I-have-to-go-to-tech-school-on-Saturdays. Fuckhead, I am not an overachiever! Haha," she said with a snort.

  "Really now, how come an underachiever won the science fair last year with a cliché volcano? You ain't one of those lazy 'cool kids', hehehe!" Dillon chuckled.

  "What 'cool kids'? You know I'm the coolest there is, dickwad!" Kat frowned right as the bus pulled up. 

  School bus yellow was such an obnoxious colour to have to see in the morning. The trip to school was also very bumpy because of the lack of road maintenance in their town so the ride to school every morning was lovely. It did get him to school in one piece, so that's something. Once he had gotten off the bus he entered the building and went to their usual pre-homeroom hangout spot. The bell rang every day at eight thirty, and Dillon got there at around quarter after. Until the morning bell to go to homeroom, Dillon would hang out in the vestibule in between the two sets of front doors with Kat. It was one of the best hang out spots, especially in winter since there was a heater and air-conditioner right in the vestibule. They sat on it to heat up or cool down from their wait at the bus stop as they talked about whatever and watched as students filed in.

  The bell rang, and Kat and he parted ways to their respective homerooms. He started his classes in the hopes that it would distract him from everything, but he couldn't focus. His mind would steer him back to that damned mechanic. After a while it had started to anger him. Especially since it caused him to get aroused at very inopportune times. Dillon knew that would pass for a while, though. It happened often enough. He would see hot older students or another man and undress them with his mind, and fixate on how attractive they were for a few days. Eventually he would get bored of the person and that went dormant for a time. It gave Dillon breaks to focus on other things.

  By the time Dillon had finished lunch at around quarter of eleven, he boarded the bus parked out front. Every day it would take him from the highschool to his culinary arts class at the tech school. It was a class yes, but that wasn't all. The school also had a restaurant that was opened to the public. It was the best of both work and school, and it taught them a lot about business and how to problem solve. Every week a different student would man the bakery case and cash register in the front of the restaurant. At the same time, every month the students would switch between front of the house as wait staff and the back of the house as chefs. To Dillon, there was no better class. He got to learn and partake in his passion.

  As it neared three thirty, Dillon talked with a few of his other classmates after about the speaker from The Restaurant School at Walnut Hill College. The speaker made an impressive spread of things for them all to try, from handmade mozzarella to chocolate raspberry mousse. Afterwards they went over the costs and requirements of Walnut Hill, as well as the different programs they had to offer. Dillon thought the prices were pretty reasonable and he seriously considered it. He had thought recently that he should make a list of top school candidates. Dillon wasn't entirely set on exactly what he wanted to do, so he wanted to keep an open mind.

  Dillon had gone into the locker room to change out of his chef jacket and pants, and came back out in his normal attire. Once he had flung his backpack over his shoulder, he waited at the door for the dismissal bell at two thirty. Usually by the time he had boarded the bus, to when he got home, it was around four o'clock. The bell finally rang ten minutes later, and everyone filed out the classrooms. Dillon met up with a couple buddies that took carpentry classes down the hall, which was the same program his best friend Dom was in. It sucked that he only got one year with Dom in tech school. They had a lot of fun.

  They turned right and went through the automotive department since it was the shortest route to the exit. Dillon had always loved the rubber and gasoline fumes that he would smell as he passed by. Just as they were about to turn down the hallway that led to the exit, Dillon felt a very sharp pain in his right elbow. What the hell? After he turned his head to see the bastard that had just slashed his elbow, his eyes widened in realization and horror. The mechanic. Of course this would happen to him. Naturally. The universe, or God, or whatever didn't want him to forget about the damned mechanic!