Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Axel Moyer
Mom jokes about how she wishes we could live in a Hobbit hole instead of our little flat in New York City. We'd huddle in fleece blankets and eat stew almost every night she told me. When she said that the last thing I had in mind was South Carolina.
Dad has always compared Mom to something of a young Kate Bush. With her curly brown hair and put-together watercolor citrus and yellow outfits and chintz she'd wear to her architect job every day. She was like a Wes Anderson character who found their way into the real world.
Last night when we settled into the house instead of getting takeout, she made a spicy potage instead. She paired it with cheap red wine from the drug store down the street for her and Dad to share while I got stuck with bottled water.
My dad is fun too. He's in a part-time garage band. Well, he was until we moved but before then, they'd give our neighbors shows at block parties in exchange for a few tips and drinks. They are called The Prudes which is probably unoriginal, but their music isn't so bad. And if you looked through our old photo dust filled albums, half of the pictures would be my dad holding me as a baby or feeding me a bottle with my mom being behind the camera since Dad was always bad at taking photos. Mom would have to pick apart the batch when she picked it up from the store and take out every single blurry photograph he took.
My first day at Sodom High School was nothing short of boring. I spent the morning observing my classmates, making a new introduction for myself in each class, and kicking stones when I walked the old courtyard. It wasn't until lunch that I attempted making friends as I passed by noisy tables of hyenas laughing and shouting with their cliques at sticky beige tables the shapes of circles. Most kids skipped lunch or ate salads they brought from home instead of the cafeteria's greasy square pizza that looked partway frozen.
I kept scavenging the jungle until I came across a guy reading alone before I knew where I wanted to sit. My feet hesitantly saunter like a ballroom dancer to that isolated corner. "Hey, this seat taken?"
He glances up from his book with brown down turned eyes sealed with deep bags. He looks away with disinterest the minute his face meets mine.
"No."
I quietly take this invitation and sit down beside him. I unpack my lunch from a rolled-up brown paper sack I kept compressed in the front pocket of my yellow backpack. I dig through it until I find my peanut butter banana sandwich. Along with a cheesy hand-written sticky note from my dad that I put aside for now.
"Is that peanut butter and banana? Who eats that kind of stuff?" The boy next to me asks in a judgmental voice as he peers up from his book.
"I mean I'm pretty sure Elvis Presley did but I'm also pretty sure when he first met Priscilla, she was a minor...?”
The boy scoffs, "Elvis was weird. It's no wonder he died on the toilet." He sets his book aside. "Anyways, my name is Sasha, yours?"
"Mines Axel. I just moved here from New York City a couple of days ago."
"New York? And your parents moved to this shithole? They must not be very smart." Sasha mutters through soft waves of snickers.
I shrug because I truthfully didn't know why Mom wanted to move here outside of wanting a clean change of scenery. Although I didn't hate it. Why would I? There were colorful tourist attractions, cookie-cutter homes with picket fences painted a pristine coat of white, and printed-out flyers for the local Catholic church.
We go to silence again with just the occasional glare my way. Until I notice a blonde girl with a spray tan that could make oranges jealous strutting our way showing off her low-rise jeans paired with a blinding pink t-shirt that advertised for the Public Speaking club. Sasha groans shamelessly loud joined with an eyeroll before his gaze once again fixes to the thick foxing pages of his book, ignoring the girl approaching our table. The Jaws theme was subconsciously playing in my mind.
"Hey new kid, what's your name?" She asks between giggles that are reminiscent of dolphin clicks and whistles that display her metallic navy braces.
I clear my throat cautiously before mumbling out, "It's Axel...what's your name?"
"My name is Alyson Webb. I'm class president and founder of the Public Speaking club and I-"
Sasha cuts her off, "You can stop right there. We don't care."
"...Anyways, would you like a school tour? I mean I already know you do. Nobody has ever turned down a school tour from me!" She exclaims proudly like it was a medal of honor she held dearly.
"He doesn't want your stupid tour, Alyson."
Alyson purses her lips tightly before pulling the trigger on her prey, "Nobody was looking for your input fag."
I gasp in shock while watching her bat her heavy lashes in pride but when I turn to see Sasha's reaction, he appears unfazed. It was as though the words never made it through his ears. A pure meaningless string of hollow drivel it seemed. I watch his mouth articulate something witty ever so seamlessly like a wind-up doll.
"Whatever, Alyson. It's not my fault your parents divorced. Which you didn't have to announce in class on four different occasions by the way."
Her eye twitches a little. "It's honestly funny how you're always reading and never have something meaningful or interesting to say, isn't it?"
"Oh, but you do? Screw off already." Sasha retorts with a smirk resting on his face.
"I'm surprised the new kid would even sit with you. He must not know that you're a gross little queer."
Sasha's eyes narrow, "Just shut up already you inbred cow!"
I see Alyson's cocky smirk contort into sheer disgust as she pulls me away from the 'contaminated' table. During her tour, I found out that most of the school was made up of long endless corridors, broken soda machines, a gym that smelled like foot fungus, and B.O. Along with bathrooms that had harsh words carved into the baked enamel of the stalls. Alyson shows me the library but only introduces me to the Bibles with a giddy grin that only a child at the fair would have. She expresses a deep interest in me attending weekly mass for a long time before the school bell wraps up our tour.
On my second day of school, I stowed away in the library during lunch. The rain pounded against the thick glass windows that gave a view of the littered parking lot. There was graffiti and tumbling plastic bags around every corner. Listening to alternative rock music on my iPod seemed to bring comfort to the storm. Sasha was in the corner of my eye sitting in an uncomfortable plastic stacking chair. His eyes were glued to another fantasy book. Scanning, page turn, scanning, page turn, scanning. An ouroboros pattern.
I take a seat by him as my nervous hands knit into my hoodie pockets that I was gifted in middle school and never grew out of like most of my clothes. "Do you wanna listen to some music with me?" I held up the other earbud to him.
"Depends, is the music something stupid?"
I shrug. "I don't think so. It's Linkin Park."
He scoffs as though I said the wrong thing but listens to the music through the opposite earbud as mine. Nobody else was in the desert library except for a librarian playing a round of digital solitaire. She must be combatting the boredom that is plaguing the school. A deadly disease that everyone caught when they came in. I imagine it's like this every day.
"Is there anything fun to do here?"
Sasha laughs quietly at my question. "Hm, we did have a trampoline park, but it shut down after too many worm cases. But there is a Walmart and a few department stores." He pauses before adding, "Oh, the county fair will be in town on Saturday."
"The county fair? I love going to the fair! Are you going?" I already smell the sweet aroma of golden-brown funnel cake sprinkled with faint powder, and I can hear a cotton candy machine whirring to life with a switch.
"Nope. Why would I? It's just a sweaty hot box of rigged games and old rides ready to take its passengers to the slaughterhouse.”
I frown. "Do you hate all things joy and fun? Who hurt you?"
"There's just a ton of bigots there. I already see enough at school. It's easier to stay at home and read."
"But the outside world is fun! That's where bugs are and breakfast burritos and Bholes..."
He flashes me a look that makes me feel as though I'm a crazy person. "Your idea of fun is very questionable. And definitely doesn't make me feel better about the outside world FYI."
"Will you go to the fair with me? It'll be fun, promise."
Sasha sighs deeply. He gives a thoughtful look for a long time. He's a robot stuck in place trying to compute what was put in. Until he says, "Fine. But you're paying for my ticket!”