CHAPTER 1 – HIGH AND LOW "Gawd, I'm gonna be late... like so fucking late!" Hurling his school bags onto the back of his red pickup truck, a tall blonde who generally heeded to the name Seifer Almasy was cursing violently in distress. He didn't care whether or not his temper would wake the folks in his nice suburban neighborhood at this ungodly hour on a Tuesday morning; he had far more important things to worry about. This was the first day of school after summer break, more so, his very first day at Deling City High - and he was going to be late. He had moved to this town mere weeks ago and spent most of his vacation setting up his small apartment and getting acquainted with his new "home", if that was what he was to call it. Really, home was about a three hour drive away, in Balamb City where his parents lived, but for reasons that he usually hated to elaborate on he was now stuck in this place - alone. To top it all off, he had been forced to change schools before the beginning of his senior year, which would most likely result in his grades dropping yet another notch. Not that they had actually needed a shove down the grade curve - they had been steadily descending all on their own. Well, in any case, he had little more than fifteen minutes to get his ass into gear and somehow into his math class without the crucial knowledge of where said class was even held at. Yep, things sure weren't looking good for the home team, thank you very much. As Seifer leaped into the driver seat of his brand new truck and slammed the door shut behind himself, he could almost hear the nagging voice of his mother in his ears, tiring him with well-meant pieces of advice that he never actually bothered to follow, anyway. "Have you checked with your counselor yet? Have you figured out all the places you need to go? Which classes are you going to take? Have you talked to the football coach about your missed summer practise? Have you made any friends yet? Are you sure you don't need anything else, honey? And please don't forget what Dad and I told you about... you know what." Mothers sure had an impeccable talent of being so very goddamn annoying with their uncalled for demonstrations of parental love, affection and care. Apparently, Seifer's mother thought that his bisexuality (she refused to voice the term and usually referred to it as "you know what") caused permanent stupidity and immaturity. According to her, he was clueless about how to properly take care of himself. But hey, he was eighteen years old (nineteen in December, thank you very much), and he could take care of himself alright. He didn't have much of a choice in the first place, being stuck in Deling City on his own and what not. When ever would she understand that? Sighing, Seifer flipped his car key in the lock and started the engine. He'd have to hurry and take the freeway or something if he held any notion of making it to class in time - and he did, surprising as it was. Dawn was already streaking the greyish skies with bright hues of pink and orange, but luckily traffic wasn't bustling just yet. Seifer was able to pull onto the road and head towards school, which was located at the other end of town, without passing much more than the occasional delivery truck and other fellow early birds that were headed to class or wherever. Still yawning a little dozily, Seifer cast a bored glance into his rear view mirror, checking out his own reflection. Gazing back at him was the clean-cut, angular face of a very tanned high school senior, as well as a pair of strident jade green eyes that were sparking with natural spunk. He was a handsome young man alright, as he was told often enough. In fact, Seifer Almasy could easily be taken for your stereotypical high school jock - he was tall, buff and a talented football player who was extremely popular with the girls... and fully aware of it, too. He wasn't exactly an honor roll student, but it wasn't like he carried any aspirations for geniusdom or a career in medicine, as much as his parents would have rejoiced. On the contrary, Seifer was a seemingly natural born athlete. He played football, baseball and basketball, and he was also an avid track runner. Seifer was a guy who knew well of his weaknesses and strengths, though he usually tended to underrate the first and overrate the latter. But who the hell cared about such trivial matters, anyway - perfection came in a whole lotta flavors. Just as he was tapping the steering wheel in boredom and quietly hummed along a tune broadcasted by his favorite local rock station, a flash of black in his rear view mirror caught Seifer's attention. Irritated, he glanced out of the window and onto the street that was slightly slicked with rain from the night. He almost reeled backwards, totally staggered by a motorcyclist launching by his left side at neckbreaking speed. Seifer arched an eyebrow. "What the fuck?" As the biker pulled in before him, his break lights hardly flashing, Seifer scowled ominously. He hated to be passed, particularly so if he was already going way faster than the speed limit dictated. What the fuck was that guy thinking? Always granted of course that he was thinking at all. "... Why, I think you just earned yourself a free lesson, biker boy." With a roguish grin curling his features, Seifer quickly changed gears and mashed his foot down upon the accelerator. He had always despised motorcyclists - they didn't go down too well his attitude. Usually they'd try to mess with him, and he'd happily mess right back. Today was no exception. He was closing in on the biker fast, and he didn't even bother to set his turn signal as he swerved into the passing lane. Smirking, he whipped his head to his right as he was about leveled with the motorcycle. The guy on the bike was wearing faded blue jeans and heavy boots, a black leather jacket and an equally black helmet. They matched the color of his ride. The book bag he had strapped onto his back kinda made Seifer wonder for a moment; this was quite possibly a fellow student of Deling City High. 'All the more reason to leave a lasting impression.' Inevitably, the biker turned to face him, and Seifer thought that he could feel the guy's irritation simmering off of him even through his reflective visor. Ah - bikers. It was simply too much fun fucking with their minds. Giving a smug wave and a thumbs-down, Seifer floored his gas pedal and took off. Glancing into his rear view mirror, he could see the biker following him with his eyes. Sneering and leaning back in his seat, the blonde returned to the right lane, and he couldn't deny that he felt pretty damn good about himself. That was until he heard a powerful exhaust howling to his left. He turned around, slowly almost, disbelief etched into his angular features. Though he was going fast enough to justify the loss of his license if a cop was just lucky enough to spot him, sure enough his jade green eyes were set yet again upon the guy on his black Honda. Seifer gave a low grunt. "Motherfucker..." To make matters worse, the biker flicked up his gloved hand and flipped Seifer the bird. He continued to hold his middle finger up quite unambiguously, ensuring that the blonde had seen it up nice and close, before he curled his hand back around his handlebar and cut in front of Seifer's truck the very moment that their lanes merged. A hissing sound escaped the blonde's lips, and he was rendered speechless for the length of a moment. "Little fucking bitch!" He slammed his hands down upon the steering wheel in frustration and he felt his stomach coiling with anger. They were hitting the suburbs again, and just like the biker, Seifer inevitably had to adjust his speed. They were close to the school now, and there obviously wouldn't be another chance to pass the guy on the motorcycle and slap him back into his place. This was a clearly cut loss, and one thing was for certain - Seifer Almasy was a sore loser. He followed the Honda further down the road and to the broad complex of Deling City High School. They passed track and tennis courts, a football stadium and an outdoors pool until the biker finally pulled into a parking lot that was already packed with cars and students. Seifer tailed after the guy closely, not letting him out of sight. As soon as the Honda had stopped in a vacant parking space, away from the main crowd, Seifer slammed on his brakes and pulled into the very same spot, thus blocking the biker off. Impulse and a very short temper drove the blonde to lunge out of his truck and throw his door shut violently. Meanwhile, the Honda owner had dismounted his bike and stood with his back turned on Seifer. He seemed to be a few inches shorter than the eighteen year old and quite more delicate in his build, but said fact didn't even quench a hint of Seifer's anger. The blonde had barely opened his mouth to commence yelling and smacking that kid around, when the biker slowly removed his helmet and turned around. Straight, chocolate brown hair that was slightly longish fell out of the helmet's confinement and into a pale, finely featured face with casual elegance. Eyes that were shifting hues from blue to grey glared at Seifer from behind thick lashes of black, and thin brows were laced together in the genesis of one of the scariest frowns that Seifer had ever come across. The blonde had to blink once or twice, fighting the urge to drop his jaw and his anger. He wasn't easily impressed by fine looks, but this guy was fucking hot stuff if he'd ever seen any. 'Fuck, don't even THINK about it, Almasy!' He swallowed hard, desperately trying to grind up his aggression that seemed to have evaporated. Surprisingly, the dark haired biker eased Seifer's way back into furiosity as if it was entirely natural to him. "Can't find your own parking spot?" the brunette hissed softly, his voice clear but tainted with sarcasm that was sharper than razor blades. Seifer's anger returned almost instantly. "Nah, I figured I'd take your's and beat your skinny ass in one go," he snarled. "Fucking prick." "Oh, really? I'd like to see you try," the brunette responded coolly, one of his eyebrows twitching daringly. "No problem, I'll be happy to deliver." "If that'll fix your hurt pride." "You little piece of-" "Hr-hrm." Seifer swiveled around at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him rather noisily. He plainly hated to be interrupted, and he had been rather unaware of students stopping around them to watch the scene. One of those bystanders turned out to be the guy with the obnoxiously rasp throat, and he had strategically placed himself right behind the blonde. Annoyed, Seifer gave the youth a curt look-over. He was about his height, slender, with long, wavy auburn hair and fascinating amethyst colored eyes. He was good-looking, though not necessarily Seifer's type, which might be to blame on the fact that the guy was wearing a cowboy hat of all freaking things. It didn't even look too bad with his white t-shirt and snug fitting blue jeans, but Seifer had no nerve for such quirks. Crossing his arms before his broad chest, he slit his eyes and crushed his lips to a thin line that suggested danger. "What?" he snapped, his snide voice holding a note of impatience that was impossible to miss. The cowboy grinned lopsidedly, and he tipped his head in greeting. "Seifer Almasy," he said, mock drama evident in the way he pronounced the blonde's name as he took a slight bow, "Meet Squall Leonhart." He had pointed at someone behind Seifer, and as the blonde threw a bored half-glance across his shoulder, he became to understand who this Squall Leonhart person was supposed to be. "Whatever," the grumpy brunette biker bit in response to Irvine's introduction as he tightened his hold around his helmet. Before Seifer could have said anything, the guy called Squall had pivoted on the spot and stalked off in the direction of the school building, leaving his bike somewhere between the curb and Seifer's truck as if he really didn't give a damn. "Jeez, what the fuck ever is his problem, anyway..." Seifer found himself mumbling under his breath, glaring holes in Squall Leonhart's back. "Oh, don't mind him," the cowboy next to him commented blithely, waving one hand in a dismissive gesture. "He's a lil on the, ah, antisocial side, you see." "And who are you, wisecrack?" the blonde snarled. "Oh. Irvine Kinneas. Pleased to meet ya, and all." "How did you know my name?" "Your Varsity jacket." Indeed, the red and white football jacket from his old team that Seifer was wearing had been embroidered with his last name. Still, that didn't explain... "Our track coach told us about you last practice," Irvine continued, before Seifer had a chance to ask about the revelation of his first name. "Seifer Almasy, all-state football, all-state track and that other hoopla I can't think of right now. So... when I spotted ya jacket I thought I'd come over and say hi." "Hmph." "Well, that and I figured I'd better keep ya from socking our ice princess. You looked like you were about to go brawl happy on his ass." "... Ice princess?" "Squall." "What ya call him ice princess for?" Seifer inquired curiously, not quite sure how to place that nickname. Oddly enough, it sounded like something he would make up. "Oh, you just wait and see," Irvine replied with a cryptic grin. "Hey dude, we better get going, class is about to start." "... 'Aight." Seifer fished for his bag, retrieving it from the back of his truck. He studied his vehicle's position for a moment. The parking job was horrible, but at least he was somewhat in his spot, or Squall's spot for that very matter. Anything else he really couldn't be too bothered for. "Hey," he said, throwing a questioning glance at Irvine, who stared back at him keenly. "You happen to know where Kramer's Math 4 is held at?" "Edea Kramer?" the cowboy lilted and his eyes lit up with something that Seifer could only define as utter bliss. "She's like, such a babe! Man!" Seifer snorted, following Irvine past crowds of other students and sweetly scented cherry trees to the main school building. "That's not what I asked, Casanova." "Oh... right," the other youth drawled, as if that thought had just occurred to him. "Yeah, I know where it's at. If that's where you're headed now, you're in my class." "Right on." "Yeah. Let's hurry." And thus was Seifer Almasy's rough start into a school year that would be filled with soaring highs and abysmal lows and that would, above all things, change his life forever. |