Welcome to Wednesday Briefs! It's flash fiction, so this story will be presented in 1000(ish)-word chapters. I hope you enjoy it, and check out the many other flashers, whose links are below. You can also check out the Wednesday Briefs Blog for more info and to sign up for email notifications.
Thanks for reading!
Thanks for reading!
THE BOYS OF BELSMEADE
Chapter Three
Robbie yelped in surprise when the door of their room open flew open. He hastily pulled on his shorts and glared at his roommate. "Dude! Good thing I wasn't jacking off or anything."
Aramis ignored him and threw the deadbolt on the door. "I need the book," he whispered.
"The book?" Robbie asked in surprise. "Why? Air, you're scaring me."
"I need to check a law," he replied. Hauling a large wooden box out from under his bed, he fiddled with the padlock. "I need to see how to do this."
Robbie huffed. "You are making zero sense. What law?"
Within the box, on a bed of blue silk was a large volume, bound in dark calfskin. Aramis lifted it out and gingerly laid it on his desk. Carefully handling the thin paper, he scanned the colorful pages until he found what he was looking for. Robbie looked over his shoulder and gasped.
Aramis ignored him and threw the deadbolt on the door. "I need the book," he whispered.
"The book?" Robbie asked in surprise. "Why? Air, you're scaring me."
"I need to check a law," he replied. Hauling a large wooden box out from under his bed, he fiddled with the padlock. "I need to see how to do this."
Robbie huffed. "You are making zero sense. What law?"
Within the box, on a bed of blue silk was a large volume, bound in dark calfskin. Aramis lifted it out and gingerly laid it on his desk. Carefully handling the thin paper, he scanned the colorful pages until he found what he was looking for. Robbie looked over his shoulder and gasped.
Laws of Secrecy of the Covens
Immortui must not reveal their existence within the human population. Any intentional breach of this law will result in destruction of responsible Immortui.
Immortui may apply to the council for permission to bring a Human into the Covens. There must be sufficient cause for the exception to the Laws of Secrecy, and the Human must appear before the council prior to their entry into any Clan or Coven Assembly. The decision of the Council is final.
Immortui must not reveal their existence within the human population. Any intentional breach of this law will result in destruction of responsible Immortui.
Immortui may apply to the council for permission to bring a Human into the Covens. There must be sufficient cause for the exception to the Laws of Secrecy, and the Human must appear before the council prior to their entry into any Clan or Coven Assembly. The decision of the Council is final.
"What the…" Robbie breathed. "Wait. Is this about that guy you just met?"
Aramis nodded. "Yes. His name is Eliot."
"Is he transferring? It shouldn't be too much of a problem to get the council's okay if he's transferring here."
"He isn't," Aramis said flatly. "He's a Clack."
"A Clack?" Robbie shouted.
Aramis slapped his hand over Robbie's mouth. "Shh! He's going to be taking Rampura's Italian class this semester. I can't describe it. There's something about him, Robbie. It was different this time."
He recalled the burst of adrenalin that rocketed through his body as soon as he touched Eliot's hand. Heat stirred in his groin and his fangs descended. There was definitely something different about this boy.
Robbie sighed and reached into a small cabinet. He removed a glass bottle. Aramis took the offered bottle and twisted the cap off. He grimaced when he took the first sip. Synthetic blood just didn't have the same texture of the real thing.
His roommate selected a drink for himself and took a long draw on the bottle. "I wish you luck, dude. You do realize if the council says no, Eliot won't be allowed within school grounds anymore. He'd be kicked out of Rampura's class."
Aramis groaned. "Oh shit. I hadn't thought about that. Maybe I'll ask my dad before approaching the council. What do you think?"
"Well Air, I think you've lost your fucking mind."
Aramis nodded. "Yes. His name is Eliot."
"Is he transferring? It shouldn't be too much of a problem to get the council's okay if he's transferring here."
"He isn't," Aramis said flatly. "He's a Clack."
"A Clack?" Robbie shouted.
Aramis slapped his hand over Robbie's mouth. "Shh! He's going to be taking Rampura's Italian class this semester. I can't describe it. There's something about him, Robbie. It was different this time."
He recalled the burst of adrenalin that rocketed through his body as soon as he touched Eliot's hand. Heat stirred in his groin and his fangs descended. There was definitely something different about this boy.
Robbie sighed and reached into a small cabinet. He removed a glass bottle. Aramis took the offered bottle and twisted the cap off. He grimaced when he took the first sip. Synthetic blood just didn't have the same texture of the real thing.
His roommate selected a drink for himself and took a long draw on the bottle. "I wish you luck, dude. You do realize if the council says no, Eliot won't be allowed within school grounds anymore. He'd be kicked out of Rampura's class."
Aramis groaned. "Oh shit. I hadn't thought about that. Maybe I'll ask my dad before approaching the council. What do you think?"
"Well Air, I think you've lost your fucking mind."
********************
I heard the next day that my application had been approved by the headmaster and I was to start Mr. Rampura's class on the following week. They sent me to a tailor in Boston who fitted me with a Belsmeade blazer and it suddenly became very real. I would have to wear my khakis and dress shirt to high school every day, because I didn't have enough time after my chemistry class to change before driving over to Belsmeade for Italian. What would the kids in school say? It was odd. I'd never really gotten any shit for being gay. There were a couple other gay guys there, and two lesbian girls, but we'd never been bothered that much. It that respect, we were very lucky.
But my becoming a part-time Assmeade? That was probably going to be a problem.
On Monday, I walked into school with my crisp, white shirt. I left the top button unbuttoned and rolled the sleeves partway up my forearms. The jacket and tie I left in my car. The moment I walked through the doors, my friend Travis wolf-whistled and laughed.
"Look at you," he called across the hall. "Headed off to the Ivy Leagues."
"Very funny," I shot back. "Could you say it a little louder please?"
Travis smiled and came over to walk with me. "Nah. Seriously man, I'm glad they let you in. You'll do great."
"I'm so fucking nervous," I said quietly. "Not only of the Meades, but of what everyone here's gonna say."
"Eh, fuck the lot of 'em."
"Easy for you to say."
"Yes it is."
"Why am I friends with you again?"
"Because the sex wasn't that good?"
I choked and sputtered and looked around to make sure no one had overheard Travis' remark. "Can you not say things like that?"
He stopped and looked at me. "Well, it wasn't. I mean the blow jo—"
"Travis!" I yelled. "I'm gonna belt you if you don't shut up."
"Gotta get to class anyway. Cheerio, love!"
I rolled my eyes and chuckled. Travis really was a good friend. A little flamboyant, but loyal and trustworthy. And he was definitely right about one thing: we were friends because we'd hooked up one night. And it. Was. Terrible. We ended up laughing our asses off and figured out that we were much better off as friends without benefits. Since then we'd supported each other through coming out to our parents and friends, broken relationships, dealing with homophobia and everything else that came our way.
Heading toward chemistry, I passed by a group of basketball players. One of them was particularly nasty, not only to me, but to everyone. For the first time in the four years I'd known him, Jeff Peters decided to notice me.
"So you're an Assmeade now?" he snarled.
"I didn't know it was news," I replied with a shrug.
Jeff wasn't giving up so easily. "Sorry. I meant a Fagsmeade."
That got my attention, as well as the attention of everyone else around. I took a deep breath before I replied. "You haven't had a problem with me being gay for four years. Now that I'm taking a class at Belsmeade, you decide it's suddenly made me too gay? You're a fucking douche."
The huge jock took a step toward me, but the principal walked around the corner. "What's going on here?"
"Nothing at all," Jeff said. "Just congratulating Berenz."
He pushed past me and I sighed. This was just what I did not need right now.
But my becoming a part-time Assmeade? That was probably going to be a problem.
On Monday, I walked into school with my crisp, white shirt. I left the top button unbuttoned and rolled the sleeves partway up my forearms. The jacket and tie I left in my car. The moment I walked through the doors, my friend Travis wolf-whistled and laughed.
"Look at you," he called across the hall. "Headed off to the Ivy Leagues."
"Very funny," I shot back. "Could you say it a little louder please?"
Travis smiled and came over to walk with me. "Nah. Seriously man, I'm glad they let you in. You'll do great."
"I'm so fucking nervous," I said quietly. "Not only of the Meades, but of what everyone here's gonna say."
"Eh, fuck the lot of 'em."
"Easy for you to say."
"Yes it is."
"Why am I friends with you again?"
"Because the sex wasn't that good?"
I choked and sputtered and looked around to make sure no one had overheard Travis' remark. "Can you not say things like that?"
He stopped and looked at me. "Well, it wasn't. I mean the blow jo—"
"Travis!" I yelled. "I'm gonna belt you if you don't shut up."
"Gotta get to class anyway. Cheerio, love!"
I rolled my eyes and chuckled. Travis really was a good friend. A little flamboyant, but loyal and trustworthy. And he was definitely right about one thing: we were friends because we'd hooked up one night. And it. Was. Terrible. We ended up laughing our asses off and figured out that we were much better off as friends without benefits. Since then we'd supported each other through coming out to our parents and friends, broken relationships, dealing with homophobia and everything else that came our way.
Heading toward chemistry, I passed by a group of basketball players. One of them was particularly nasty, not only to me, but to everyone. For the first time in the four years I'd known him, Jeff Peters decided to notice me.
"So you're an Assmeade now?" he snarled.
"I didn't know it was news," I replied with a shrug.
Jeff wasn't giving up so easily. "Sorry. I meant a Fagsmeade."
That got my attention, as well as the attention of everyone else around. I took a deep breath before I replied. "You haven't had a problem with me being gay for four years. Now that I'm taking a class at Belsmeade, you decide it's suddenly made me too gay? You're a fucking douche."
The huge jock took a step toward me, but the principal walked around the corner. "What's going on here?"
"Nothing at all," Jeff said. "Just congratulating Berenz."
He pushed past me and I sighed. This was just what I did not need right now.
****************************************
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