Ch4

A backpack was in order, very much so. Eight books, one for each period, each an only seen in high school fat book that looked like it was about the size of an unabridged dictionary, were piled in his hands and arms. Heero never went to a true high school before this one—never a high school where they actually had enough money to give each student a book that was more likely to gather dust or ripped apart during a party, then actually be used to learn a poor kids mind during the poor kids free time. Heero never needed a backpack before, but now he did — a big fat backpack.

The funny thing was that he didn’t need any one of the books. Every single fact, date, and equation enclosed in their expansive bindings was enclosed in his cheep-whore brain. The schools he went to before didn’t put those facts in that brain, no, not at all. It was his library card and distaste of ignorance and the ignorant. He thirsted for knowledge and know-how and he wasn’t going to let cheap schools and cheaper teachers make him a cheap slot that didn’t know left from right. So he learned, and learned good. And now he had to fake ignorance so the government didn’t know his mind and capabilities.

The day had gone pretty good—almost. People whispered at him as he walked down the hallways and stared at him as he sat in class, writing down the make-up notes he already knew and knew again. They didn’t bother him much; he was used to it when he was a child and still thought himself great for his grand blood as he looked at the poor ones of that colony he had been forced to live on and thought he would only be at the colony for a year. Yep, the stared he knew of, and didn’t mostly mind.

He also mostly didn’t mind being on a twelve-seat table with only one kid: himself. Wufei was in his lunch, but seating with that girl from earlier, laughing as if one free and carefree when he didn’t catch himself. Heero was okay with it; he was okay seating by himself, as his friend sat not noticing him and laughing with a bunch of ‘weak’ woman. Heero was okay being the one gossiped about for just his heritage and the attentions he didn’t want from that man.

The sores still hurt, almost as bad as his pride. Heero was always the one to direct, to decide the money, and to decide where and when, not the customer, not the dammed customer, him. But this ‘customer’ had and would do again and again until Heero escaped this place. But Heero couldn’t escape. The government trapped him here to be controlled by that man and trapped Duo here to see Heero broken. Heero would break and Duo would see.

Duo shouldn’t be here where he was. This disgusting place was no place for Duo. But Duo was here and would be here to see Heero’s pride go. And Duo would be here to find out the friend he was so happy to see was nothing but a common whore that let people fuck him for penny and not so penny cash.

Duo, why do you knowing my secrets bother me so, Heero thought. Duo, why? I do not understand. The pondering filled his head as he ate the gourmet meal he had no taste for.

Finally, meals ended, bells rung, classes finished, and he was free. The halls bustled after the eight and last period, except around him. People spoke about him openly but were too afraid of him to step three feet in front of him. Funny, he found it very funny, almost funny enough to laugh at. He was doing that, laughing, when Duo found him after school.

“Hey buddy,” Duo grinned and slung his arm around Heero’s shoulder. It felt nice to Heero; he liked the comforting weight around his shoulders. But he shrugged the arm away; Duo’s arm shouldn’t be on his dirty-whore shoulders; Duo was better then him.

“So, what’s up?” Duo said.

Heero grunted. He had nothing to say to that question. Nothing was up. Everything was down. He was down, never up. He was never never a whore that went down to any customer. He was just a plain old whore.

“Why don’t you put those in your locker?” Duo pointed at the books in Heero’s hands

Heero grunted and raised his eyebrow. What was a locker and why would he have one?

“Y’know, a place to put your books. Metal, long, has a lock on it. Never mind. Give me your schedule.”

Heero, still confused, handed his schedule over. Duo glanced at it and smirked.

“This is good.” Duo grabbed Heero’s arm and dragged him to an almost empty hallway with box metal walls that had numbers on them and electrical keypads. Keypads on walls?

Duo went to one of those keypads and typed at it. Part of the wall swung open, reveling a empty square in the wall. Duo stepped back and waved his arms at the space. Heero had no idea what he wanted.

“You never had one before, have you?”

Heero grunted no.

Duo, mumbling, grabbed his books and stuffed them in the locker before slamming it shut. “Your combination is on the schedule. You put books in the lock…”

“Maxwell, how good to see you here? Really good.” The football player who had called Heero a fag earlier and now gritted them chuckled as he and two other friends gathered around the two boys. “Hello to the new boy; hello to Treize’s new pet.”

The football player wrapped his arm around Heero’s waist. Another arm snagged down into his pants and brushed his cock. Smiling, he breathed smoggy air into Heero’s face. It smelt horrible. The mouth that captured Heero’s also tasted horrible.

The hallway was deserted except for them and Heero. Duo had left with a nod from Heero when a knife flicked from the tall, blonde bully. Bo one would see them. No one would see Heero negotiating. He would have control.

“Do you have suitable money?” Heero asked.

“What?” The black haired one said, sounding like he was going to laugh.

“Do you have suitable money? I am a whore and expect money.” Heero wiggled his hips a little.

“Truly? A one that has been fully certified.”

Heero batted his eyes at the football player and moaned against him.

The football player chuckled and pulled some money out of his pants. Heero nodded and undid his pants. Heero was the whore he was and moaned and squirmed as the black hair one thrust into him. They didn’t use lubricant. It hurt. Heero finished it quickly, not even getting hard himself. The blonde laughed and smirked as the football player finished.

“That was good,” the football player withdrew and motioned to his friend.

“Maybe later, Muller; we need to get going.”

“But, Alex…”

“We are going now.” Muller shrugged and waved as he and his friends left Heero alone in the hallway—all alone—bleeding semen and blood from his back.

Heero pulled up his pants and squinted his eyes at the end of the hallway. Yes, he could see that one violet eye picking around the corner. Heero went away to the other exit of the hallway. He wanted to scream. He wanted to leave this place. He would do neither.