Okonuki

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

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JORDAN HENDERSON
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It was a lazy morning for Jordan. He’d been up into the early hours last night skyping friends from back home, and with the late night he’d had on Homecoming the sleep backlog was certainly ticking upwards. He’d been such a model student at Palms since he’d arrived that he was almost overdue a little lenience anyways, at least in his mind.

And so the alarm clock was silent, the curtains were drawn tight, and Jordan was a happy man when he finally woke at eleven. His getting-ready routine was just as languid, and the clock had struck noon by the time he was out of the door. He checked his watch quickly on the way to his car. At this point he would have missed English and Bio, but if he rushed he could hit the change between spells and arrive to History on time.
This was always desirable as Mr. Churchwood was always liable to bite off a student’s head for a minute tardy. God knew what he would say if Jordan strolled in halfway through the lesson with a crumpled uniform and easy going attitude.

But as he drove along the street towards the school, the exterior was devoid of the students he had expected to see crowding the pathways and staircases. It was only as he pulled into the parking lot that the hall doors opened, letting out a flood of relieved-looking students. It looked like he had been lucky- no matter what side of the Atlantic he was on, assemblies had been and always would be a bore-fest. There was something about being confined to those shitty plastic chairs and being forced to pay attention to whatever crap the teachers were saying on stage that had always chafed at Jordan. Normal classes were bad enough, but they always ended at the bell. If this assembly had started when school did, they must have been in there for hours.

He had been more hopeful than expecting when he tried the student parking lot, but it seemed the parking gods were on his side today. There was a single spot left, wedged between a battered, familiar looking truck and a Subaru. But as he tried to pull in, he noticed the door of the truck was open, blocking the park. A small cloud of smoke came from within and he leaned out the window for a better look. Perhaps the truck had broken down. Jordan was no mechanic, but two heads were generally better than one in that kind of situation.

But the sight of the small girl inside the truck’s cab sent a small shock down his spine. He ducked back inside and thought for a second of backing off and parking on the street. Things had been awkward between him and Bea ever since Santiago’s party, all those weeks ago. They’d still hung out, but there had always been that elephant in the room that neither of them would acknowledge. When Julie had asked about Bea that Homecoming night, he hadn’t known how to react. And still the thought of her filled him with conflicting feelings and confusion.

It was time to settle all of that. To get things off his chest. To figure out what the hell was going on. They had to talk. He leaned his head out of the window again and made eye contact with her.

“Bea. Mind letting me in there?” he asked, motioned a closing door with his hand.

The "Goings On" at Upper Lake Institute

JULIUS GARDENER
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Julius hadn’t used an alarm in years. At this point, his body was conditioned to wake at the crack of dawn like a farmer to a rooster’s crow. Normally, he was up and out of bed within a minute, with breakfast eaten within five and teeth brushed in ten, leaving the day ready and waiting.

However, last night had been far from normal. Besides actually attending the party, a rare event in it’s own right, the nights he had spent here so far had mainly consisted of him stretching the drama room’s closing time and eventually retiring early to his room to study and sleep- as opposed to dealing with two head wounds and herding paramedics around the dorms until late into the early hours of the morning.

And so Julius found himself staring with gluey eyes at his phone screen as the white digits slowly ticked closer to ten. His head was pounding like a kickdrum in a metal band and despite looking deep within himself, his motivation to strip off the cozy covers and face the Saturday morning was nowhere to be found. As he watched, the screen buzzed with an email alert and he squinted at the sudden blinding light. His afternoon script writing lecture was cancelled- the professor had been snowed in.

The pillow caught on his bedside lamp’s cord as he threw it against the opposite wall, dropping the thin steel light clattering against the floor. The pillow merely bounced off of the window. He buried his head in the covers and moaned momentarily before summoning the resolve to leave his cocoon. Bloody Alaska, how was anyone supposed to get anything done when it was this freezing? Even in the heated room he was shivering. Through the window was a magnificent christmas card scene of white snow and heavily laden pine trees. The sun was a watery disk, low in the sky and casting a shimmering light off of the white landscape.

Julius shut the curtains. Gathering some clothes from his cupboard, he pulled a freshly ironed shirt over his head and headed for the door. With a thought, he opened it only slightly and peeked out. Mercifully, Lou and Alex’s doors were closed. At this time in the morning, he was in no mood for conversation- although he would like to find out from Alex what exactly had happened last night at some point. The paramedics seemed to have been right in their diagnosis, in that Alex and the other girl had recovered enough to be left alone by the end of the night.

There was a communal kitchen at the far end of each floor and at the moment, a piping hot cup of black coffee sounded absolutely divine. It seemed unnaturally early in the morning for activity from college students, as the other dorm doors were also closed. The kitchen was as deserted as the hallway. Julius made his coffee in silence, only broken by the whistle of the kettle as it boiled. He took one of the seats scattered around a small table and sipped at his coffee. Someone had left a newspaper behind, and he flipped through the pages in lack of anything else to do. Perhaps later he could head to the library and get a bit of study done for his script writing. For now he was content to sit and stare idly at feel-good stories of firemen helping old ladies’ cats out of trees with occasional sips from his steaming mug.

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

DECLAN TUREI
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Homecoming hadn’t been kind to Declan. He’d spent the entire next day huddled under a pile of blankets with the curtains drawn, alternating between a fitful doze and staring blankly at the ceiling with narrow eyes. Come Monday morning, he was feeling marginally better- although hungry and rather bored. Bored enough to finally tug the duvet from over him and mount an expedition to the fridge downstairs.

It had been a while since he’d stayed long enough at home to actually eat breakfast in the mornings, and it was a nice feeling to be able to put his feet up with a glass of orange juice and a fat stack of toaster waffles. Unfortunately, the cruisy morning only lasted as long as until he started hearing movement from his father’s upstairs bedroom. While he was feeling better than yesterday, he was hardly in the mood for a lecture on how he was ‘throwing away his life’ or whatever grumbles his father had with him today. It was time to bail.

Checking his watch, he found with surprise that he was actually on track to be on time for school. It was a rare occasion that he drifted in through the entrance doors before ten thirty and to be honest, he could barely recall the name or face of his homeroom teacher.

His van took several turns of the key to get started and released a cloud of fumes potent enough to melt a small iceberg when it finally did. Palm Beach was small enough that anywhere was within a ten minute drive, which was a blessing today when Declan barely had the mental energy to keep his eyes focused on the road ahead.

The car park was about as packed as an early Monday morning deserved, with only the teacher’s spaces looking any kind of full. However lame it sounded, it gave Declan a small sense of satisfaction to pull into the closest park to the entrance. His homeroom was on the second floor, a repurposed geography room that he hadn’t visited since before the summer holidays. Normally he would just go straight to the music room when he got to school, proper attendance be damned.

As he pushed open the door, the teacher gave a mock open mouthed face of shock and lowered her glasses from her nose.
“Ah, Mr. Turei. So you are in my class this year. I thought there was some kind of mistake on my roll, seeing as I haven’t seen you in two months.”
Declan at least had the grace to look slightly apologetic.
“Yeah, I’ve been uh… sick. Had a nasty cough. You know how it is- July’s a real killer on the lungs,” he said, with wide, innocent eyes and a gentle cough into a bunched fist.
“Ah yes, the famous two month cough.” She was looking decidedly unconvinced. “Anyways, feel free to explain it all to Mrs. Chamberlain after the assembly. Run off to the hall now, they want to lecture you lot on that disaster of a Homecoming.” Declan turned to the door to leave.
“And Declan?” she called. He turned and looked over his shoulder back at her. “I will see you in homeroom tomorrow morning.” Declan slumped his shoulders and gave a mock salute. “Yes miss, I’ll be there.”
“Good.”

The hall was set up for an assembly, with rows of chairs echoing out from the curved stage like a wifi signal. The rows were only sparsely populated at the moment, and Declan scanned the room for familiar faces before his gaze alighted on Guy Lowell. They’d met in the theatre, when the two had found spots in the main cast for their freshman play- a musical. Declan was long out of that scene, but the two were still close.

“Sup,” Declan nodded to Guy and pulled out a chair. The two chatted for a few minutes, mainly about music, theatre, and the homecoming before Mrs Chamberlain’s blunt voice cut through the haze of conversation.

The cancellation of the prom wasn’t a big deal for Declan- he hadn’t been planning on going at all, and unless the school pulled the same crap they had done for Homecoming he didn’t think there was anyone likely wanting to go with him anyways. But for the rest of the year, the thought seemed atrocious. Shocked whispers, and in some cases outcries were heard throughout the student body. Declan was mildly impressed, although sceptic about the faculty actually carrying through with the threat. You didn’t get to go to a school like this without some serious money in your family and in his experience money didn’t like being told what it couldn’t do.

After the initial speech, Declan simply plugged into his headphones and drowned out the noise with some soothing tunes. The hours passed slowly however, and he was thankful when the bell finally wrang, although raising an eyebrow at the little gift bag he’d received.

Pulling the headphones from his ears and cracking his back with a languid stretch, Declan yawned loudly. “Glad that’s over. Want to hit the arts block?” he asked Guy. “I’m keen for a quick piano sesh.”

The "Goings On" at Upper Lake Institute

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J U L I U S G A R D E N E R

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The others seemed to agree with his assessment of the situation. Lily in particular was looking uncomfortable with the situation, her arms crossed tightly across her chest as she replied.

“Yeah, I’m sure they get a lot of calls out here for party injuries and drinking shit, but still this seems a little stupid,” Julius replied doubtfully. “I guess the best thing we can do is try to look after them and follow their advice, however useful it might be.” The girl was looking slightly better, but still unconscious and unresponsive to the attentions of the attendants. Someone had put her in the recovery position at least, with a pillow under her head and her body turned to the side. Julius snatched a second pillow from the couch and turned towards the stairwell door.

“It looks like she should be okay for now with all these guys helping. I’m going upstairs to check up on Alex, come along and give me a hand?” The second part was phrased more as a command than a question, and directed at the small group of students that had formed around him. The paramedics had both disappeared by now, and they clearly weren’t planning on being any more help.

He was interrupted by an outstretched hand, the korean girl reaching out as she attempted to apologize. While he agreed with what she said, he wasn’t the type of guy to let an insult run off him and he stared at her open hand for several long seconds before she withdrew it with a scowl. A small, satisfied smile grew as she turned away to pace anxiously across the floor, before he returned his attention to the others.

“Anyways, it’s probably better not to leave Alex alone too long. Let’s head,” Julius said, taking his pillow in one hand and the doorknob in the other. The stairs were cold and empty, the paramedics long gone and the rest of the student body either playing real life Cluedo or partying unaware downstairs. The korean girl followed him out into the stairwell, but ran downstairs instead of up to help him. Typical. He wasn’t paying much attention to if the others had followed him, his mind focused on the stairs ahead of him and thoughts of the potential mysterious assailant somewhere in the building.

The hallway was as he left it, the lights dimmed ominously low and even more ominously, a bloody red trail dotting the path he had dragged Alex. The man himself was flat on his back, his head cushioned by Julius’ not-so-tan-anymore coat. Julius crouched down and made an Indiana Jones-esque swap, swiping the coat out and replacing it with the pillow he had brung from downstairs. He cringed slightly as he touched the wet red on his coat, and threw it to the side where it landed with a splat.

“It looks like the medics didn’t even look at him,” Julius said, rocking back on his haunches to look at the others. “Do you think it’s safe to move him downstairs with the other girl, or should we keep him here?” he asked. Perhaps when all this was over, taking a brief first aid course would be a good idea. Next time a sudden storm of head injuries descended on his dorm, he would be prepared.

The "Goings On" at Upper Lake Institute

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J U L I U S G A R D E N E R

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Interacting with : Seoyeon, Lily, Yoon, EMTs

"Asshole, I already called an ambulance, what makes you think I wouldn't?"

Julius looked back at her with a curled lip and a look that could strip paint from the walls. At least he could get back into his good old aggressive mindset again, knocked out of his shock at finding the body by this girl’s sheer audacity, thinking that she could throw chat like that. He couldn’t take this lying down.

“Hey newsflash dumbass: I can’t read your mind. How the fuck am I supposed to know what you’ve done or not?” he steamed, wiping his bloody hands on his thighs. Lily had jumped to her feet as he had spoke, her eyes wide with worry and attempting to assuage the situation. "We called an ambulance for her,” she said, pointing down at the passed out girl before resuming speaking. "Is there another? We need to call another ambulance,”

“Yes, there’s bloody well another. My dorm mate’s half bleeding to death two floors up,” Julius said, looking pissily at the korean girl. “And forget the ambulance. If you want to call anyone, you should try the cops. While one can be an accident, two people showing up fucked up is a mite bit suspicious.”

As he was speaking, the stairwell door opened again and revealed the reassuring presence of two paramedics, one wheeling a stretcher. They walked briskly over to where the girl lay on the floor, all professional and business-like in their manner. It was a reassuring break from panicking students whose best idea of first aid generally involved slapping a band-aid over the wound and keeping the victim drinking to block out the pain. Julius noted their velcro name tags emblazoned on their chests- ‘Hall’ on the taller white medic and ‘Williams’ on the shorter black one.

Williams crouched down next to the girl and quickly checked her over, closing and opening her eyelid and feeling her neck for a pulse. Hall took the stretcher and lowered it to the floor, preparing to take the girl away before the shorter medic turned and gave a shake of his head. He stood up, brushing his knees off and made his way over to where Lily, the korean girl and Julius stood.

"She's fine, just fainted. Make sure she stays hydrated over the next few hours, and she should be back to it by tomorrow, easy. Don't drink underage, it's not a good idea. Someone could've called the cops,” Hall said authoritatively. Surely that couldn’t be it? Julius was no trained EMT like these two, but the girl seemed to be in a much worse state than you would expect from just fainting. Unless she had knocked her head against something hard on the way down, the blood curtaining down the side of her face seemed the sign of a hospital-worthy injury. The korean girl seemed to agree with his thoughts.

"Whoa whoa, it can't be that simple, aren't you supposed to take her to the hospital or something?" she said incredulously. "You kids should be able to take care of her, it's only a concussion,” he replied, turning away to go back to where his buddy was folding the stretcher up.

"Concussion my ass! She's bleeding! So you better take her to the fucking hospital or I'll fucking put you in the hospital I swear to god!" Jesus Christ, and people thought Julius had anger issues. He needed a freeze frame of her clutching at the EMT’s collar, trying to look as threatening as possible as she assaulted a public servant. A public servant who, more to the point, had about a foot and a half and thirty kilograms on her. Hall simply pulled away and detached her hand from his collar, showing admirable self restraint.

"Let me call dispatch,” he said, leaving the room with a hand on his pocket radio. The other medic had finished his checks on the girl and packing up the stretcher and so joined the small group. Along with him came an asian guy, who spoke in a calm, low voice. "Sorry to intrude, but I heard there was another guy hurt. Can we get somebody looking at him?" Julius’ heart jumped. In all this mess, he had managed to almost completely forget about Alex.

“Yeah, there’s another like her two floors up, doc,” Julius said. “But he’s had no treatment and looked even worse off. If she isn’t a hospital case, he probably is.”

"Okay mate, I'll take a look for you," Hall said, with 'tired of this shit' eyes, before disappearing out into the hallway to join his friend. Julius looked back at the small group that had formed. "Is it just me or do these paramedics seem way too casual about two serious head wounds?".

The "Goings On" at Upper Lake Institute

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J U L I U S G A R D E N E R

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Interacting with : Lou, Seoyeon, Upstairs people

"Thank you Julius!" Lou exclaimed, giving Julius an uncomfortably tight hug that went on for at least two seconds longer than was necessary. Worst of all, Lou hadn’t let go of the sex doll and he felt the slick plastic slide against his back as he squirmed, sandwiched between an idiot and an inanimate object. Eventually the pressure on the doll became too much and it popped out above Lou’s hug, floating merrily in the air before feathering gently to the ground. With the absence of Matilda, Lou’s arms slugged him in the back as he repressured the hug. His skin was slightly sweaty. Julius would have preferred hugging the doll.

He looked down at where it lay, staring blankly at the ceiling with unblinking eyes. Was it insane to talk to a sex doll? Well, Lou did and he was the sanest guy Julius knew. He mouthed threats at the plastic face as his roommate finally released the hug.

"I will make you proud, I will be what the kids say very tight tonight!" Lou continued, his grin wide again and his enthusiasm undampened by Julius’ attempts. Facepalming was so five years ago, but Julius did an internal one anyways. The administrator who’d paired the two of them together in dorms was getting coal from him for christmas this year. Lou was quickly rescuing his beloved, scooping up the doll from the ground and settling it on a chair, which it quickly slipped off of.

"She probably will be okay." Lou said, looking at Julius with wide puppydog eyes. “She - ugh, I mean it, is an it, Lou. You know these things aren’t real people right? Despite what they look like,” he added. The manufacturer of Matilda was clearly on a passion project, as the face was lovingly sculpted into an almost passable form- if you ignored the wide red mouth. “Also, I’m pretty sure these things are made to handle a slightly tougher beating than the one you gave her… it.” Julius filled a cup from the tap and gulped it quickly, looking around the room for an escape route. The cold water was refreshing, but the backwash taste reminded him of the weed brownie he’d eaten earlier and brought him up coughing.

The buzz had well and truly set in by now, and he was feeling slightly on edge. Wasn’t weed supposed to make you feel happy and dopey? At the moment it seemed to have frayed his nerves to a thin wire. He jumped in alarm as a sudden beeping came from behind his back, but turned to just find a very stoned looking dude retrieving a piping hot pocket from the microwave. His heart was racing, and he lifted a hand to his chest to feel it thumping against his ribcage. Why was he so paranoid? It seemed like there was a monster hiding in every shadow, a plotter behind every alcohol-induced grin that wandered past. He looked back at the couches where the group of students were huddled, conspiring. They must have planned that he would eat this brownie, get high… and then what?

Julius didn’t know what they had planned for him, but he saw the way Ylva’s purse bulged. She had to have a gun in there- or a knife. He wasn’t going to stay and find out. Even Lou, who had seemed merely dim and happy moments ago now had the face of a wicked, grinning conspiracist. They were all in it. All out to get him. “Hey Lou, do you want to stay here and look after Matilda? I’ve got to go check something out,” he called over his shoulder as he beelined for the door. Somewhere private, somewhere safe. That was what he needed.

To his displeasure, he found Dorm One occupied by a group playing beer pong across a hastily set up trestle table. “Hey mate, you here to join in?” one of them called, but Julius was already gone, slamming the door and taking a moment to calm his racing heart on the other side. Where could he go if even his own dorm was taken over by the enemy? In the corner of his eye the green glow of an exit sign hummed softly, and his unhinged eyes darted to below it, where the door to the stairwell waited invitingly. Of course, there would be no one on the other floors, with the parties. Everyone would be down here or on the floor above enjoying themselves. The top floor would no doubt be empty- somewhere he could sit and collect his thoughts.

He rushed up the stairs two at a time, bypassing the floor above where party noises and lights spilled from under the door crack. It was only after he continued another flight of stairs past that he found himself stopping. The door to the floor had been left slightly ajar, but no light came from the hallway behind it. Hopefully that meant no one would be there. He inched the door open, peeking his head to see what was happening on the other side.

Oh.

Halfway down the hall a man lay crumpled on the ground, doing a worryingly good impression of a dead body. This university was all a trap, and if he didn’t get out soon, he was next. It was the only explanation! Julius looked around cagily. Was it just him or were the walls closing in, pressing against him, trapping him… He spun on his heel to retreat, run away into the Alaskan cold and never come back to this god-forsaken place ever again when his conscience twinged. Maybe it was the angel on his shoulder speaking, but for some reason it felt wrong to just leave the poor guy alone and hurt in the dark hallway.

Julius tiptoed across to where he lay, keeping the light on his phone close to the ground so he could see where he was standing. Once he was closer, he could take in some of the grisly details. The side of his head was slick with dark blood, staining the carpet red like spilled juice. Bleeding was a good sign, right? Well, to a point. He wouldn’t still be bleeding if he was dead.
Julius quickly stripped his coat off, with a twinge of regret at the feel of the expensive fabric, and bundled it against the wound. The light creamy colour was immediately stained like the carpet, but Julius kept it tight against the guy’s head. Hopefully the pressure would help staunch the flow.

Now that he was close enough to notice, he saw the man’s eyes were as wide as saucers, staring blankly up at the flickering lights on the ceiling in a way that reminded him of Matilda the doll. His pupils were also frighteningly dilated, and speckled with small white dots. The way his eyes stayed open, despite his unresponsive state freaked Julius out a little, and he closed the lids with a gentle finger. That felt wrong, though. It was what they did to dead people in movies, and there was no way this guy was going to die.

With a start, Julius realised the trouble they were in. People didn’t just show up bleeding from the head alone in hallways. They had to get there somehow. A half-possible theory of a drunk partier stumbling and hitting his head floated to his mind, but it was quickly discarded in favour of the much more exciting, much more horrifying possibility that there was a murderer in the university. Feeling like he’d descended into a real life game of Cluedo, Julius took another look around the hallway. It was deserted, the lights low and the dorm doors firmly closed. If there was a murderer lurking around these halls, safety in numbers seemed the safest route to take.

Julius tied the coat firmly around the head wound before seizing the poor guy by his feet and started to drag him down the hallway towards the stairwell door. Someone on the floors below must know what to do. Surely out of all the students here, at least one of them was studying med. Julius puffed with each tug- the guy was heavier than he looked, and the coat kept catching on the rough carpet. Most of all, Julius wasn’t as fit as he used to be in his schoolboy days.

Yet he still managed to drag the victim all the way to the exit door, where he paused for a quick breath and a look over his shoulder. The hallway was still empty, or so it seemed at least. Feeling slightly guilty about abandoning him, even if it was just for a moment, Julius vaulted down the stairs towards where light crept invitingly out of the open door of the floor below. His earlier introversion was forgotten, as any people were better company than the creepy dim lights and possibility of being murdered on the floor above. He booted the door open, taking in the scene only long enough to see a crowd of people clustered around something.

“Does anyone here know anything about first aid? I’ve found a guy with a serious head wound upstairs and he’s bleeding pretty bad,” he said authoritatively. Remembering some half advice from a long time ago about taking charge in an emergency, he pointed at one of the bystanders, a Korean girl who was already holding a phone. “You, call an ambulance.” The crowd of faces parted, craning their necks to see who was interrupting their little get together, and Julius could finally see what they were all crowded around.

Oh, fuck.

The "Goings On" at Upper Lake Institute

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“Is your hair for real?”

“No, I shaved a couple of pixies and glued the results to my head!” Ylva snapped back at him, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“That’s fucked. Aren’t they endangered?” Julius replied, scandalized. “Wait, do they even have pixies in Alaska?” he added, almost as an aside to himself. Zoology had never been his strong point, but he’d seen plenty of evidence of the northern state’s diverse wildlife already, despite rarely emerging from the heated inside rooms of the university. Tourists had stopped to oo and ah at a herd of caribou on the side of the road on the bus ride from the airport, and he’d heard tales of wild bears inhabiting the vast pine forests. Yet he was yet to spy a pixie.

“Yes, the hair is real. And yes, that is really my natural hair colour,” she continued, before turning away from him to answer Ziggy’s question. Privately, Julius still had his doubts but there was nothing to be gained from pushing the matter. Instead he put his feet up on the stack of empty pizza boxes and leaned back to stare at the ceiling, only coming back to earth to give Ylva a filthy look as she snatched one of the slices from his box. The last slice was looking awful lonely all on it’s own, so he scooped it up and gave it a new home in his mouth.

Or at least he was halfway through doing so when a loud voice calling his name in his ear made him jolt, dropping the pizza. It landed heartbreakingly face down, spilling it’s delicious ingredients across the carpet. If he was the crying kind of guy the scene might have brought a tear to his eye. Julius turned angrily to the perpetrator with a fist bunched…

Oh god, how had Lou managed to find him again? The guy was like a bloodhound with Julius scent on his nose, and no desire to give it up any time soon.
"Hey, nice party we are having!" he called out, before chomping half of a pot brownie in one oversized bite. “I don’t know this man,” Julius mumbled, his head hanging in shame as Lou gave off a beaming brown grin. The others in the group were staring, possibly in awe at Lou’s lack of awareness. Julius was staring too, only registering the two arrivals when one gave off a small hello and the other pulled out a sex doll… you know, as you do.

"Here. I think she done taken a shine to ya,” the unnamed entrant said, passing the doll over to Lou, who was looking heart-attack levels of excited. This was getting too much to stand. Lou was embarrassing himself, and worse off, Julius by association. It was for Lou’s own good that Julius stood and took him by the wrist, leading him away from the bemused group and into the small kitchenette in the corner of the room.

“Listen, Lou. You gotta calm it down a little, man,” he said, feeling like a overprotective mother as he wet a tea towel under the tap and wiped the brownie off of Lou’s face. “I get that you got mad game-” he broke off to glare pointedly at the sex doll in Lou’s arms. “But you’re dragging the good name of Dorm One through the dirt. Can’t you just act normal, at least for tonight?” he pleaded.

The "Goings On" at Upper Lake Institute

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“They’re fine, dude, trust me. Don’t tell me you’ve never had an edible before?”

“An edible? Isn’t all food edib…” It had taken far longer than it should have for the gears in Julius’ head to slowly click into place. Lack of sleep and the sudden stress of the party had taken their toll on him and his train of thought seemed to be running on busted tracks. His mouth was feeling dry all of a sudden and he coughed, sending brownie crumbs and pieces of ‘organic herbs’ spiralling over the front of his shirt.

"Yeah, I thought you knew they were pot brownies, Julius," Venus said with an annoying smile. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before replying.

“Why the hell would you ruin a perfectly good brownie by putting pot in it?” he said peevishly, brushing crumbs off of his expensive shirt. But what was done was done. He’d taken a second bite of the brownie out of politeness before his realization and already eaten the best part of half the cake. Maybe it was just paranoia, but his heart seemed to already be beating faster and it felt like his muscles were unwinding like a frayed thread of string as they relaxed.

Julius had never smoked or, probably shockingly to Ziggy, had one of these ‘edibles’ before. All he knew about weed was from panic pieces on the news around the legalization movement and what he recalled of his father’s ranting on ‘those damn millennials and their bongs’ whenever he took the fancy.
According to the news, it made you drop out of school and turn into a mindless drug-addled zombie. Or maybe that was heroin… It felt like his thoughts were leaking from the bottom of his brain and leaving behind a mellow blankness that was almost a welcome relief from the strains of life.

When Ziggy reached out to the stack of pizza boxes in front of him, Julius merely sank back further in his chair and stared at the ceiling. It didn’t feel worth it to get angry about the brownie trick, and he observed the half-eaten one in his hand with a detached feeling. The other students around him were talking, but the sound felt like it was travelling through water before it reached his ears.
All that mattered was the brownie in his hand. His eyes were glued on it, examining it’s microscopic details. The slight burn on the crust of the bottom, the tiny internal structure with all it’s little bubbles and chunks. The way the ceiling light reflected off the sludgy pieces of chocolate entertained him more than it deserved and he spent too long turning the cake in all directions and marvelling at the gleam. And of course, there was the small pieces of marijuana mixed in with the sweet cake.

Why had he shied away from this kind of stuff for so long, scared of the consequences? Perhaps it was time for him to take a little more risks in life. To seize hold of the pot brownie and chow it down, school and the party be damned.

Well, maybe he would if they didn’t taste so bloody awful. Waking from his daze long enough to grab hold of the box Ziggy had discarded, he seized the edge and swung it around to face him. Apparently it hadn’t been to the other boy’s liking, as the smooth surface of the pizza was still a full untouched circle. Mmm, were those anchovies? Feta and mushrooms also adorned the top layer, which was more than enough to convince him to swap the crumbled brownie for a slice.

An insidious thought struck him as he was about to bite and he peered through hooded eyes at his companions. This time, however, they seemed more interested in their conversations than what he was eating. Just to be sure, he poked a finger under and lifted the cheese to inspect the pizza closer before he ate it. Several small leaves rested under, but they looked more like basil than the shredded green of pot. Julius hadn’t heard of pot pizza before, but before tonight he also hadn’t heard of pot brownies.

He hadn’t managed to find the time for lunch today and he found himself downing half of the pizza within a minute before turning his focus back towards the others.

“Sho, what are y’all here for? Like, what’re you guysh shtudying?” Ziggy was saying, or at least what Julius was understanding through his growing high and the other boy’s mouthful of Doritos.

“I’m an actor. Studying… acting,” Julius said, distracted as his eyes shifting away from Ziggy to the newcomer in the group, a girl with almost-orange hair. She hadn’t introduced herself, or perhaps he’d missed her name when he was zoning out so he decided to make the move.

“I’m Julius,” he said, jerking a thumb upwards at his chest. “Is your hair for real?” he asked bluntly, shifting his motion to pointing at her copper locks. The colour seemed way too vivid to come from mama nature, and he suspected it had probably originated instead from a dye box on a supermarket shelf.

The "Goings On" at Upper Lake Institute

---

“Hey, I’m Julius. Are you guys the guardians of the brownies or somethin?”

Now that he was closer to the two couch sitters he had a chance to take a better look at them. On the left was a guy with wild hair who reminded Julius of the slacker stereotype in every teen movie ever, and next to him was a pretty, darker skinned girl with large brown eyes. They seemed slightly standoffish as he approached, but that might have been just a side-effect of him entering their group mid-conversation.
Wild-hair dropped his head in a tight nod of greeting at Julius’ entrance and gave a restrained laugh at his astoundingly witty opening line. The girl simply stared him down, her gaze shifting from head to toe before flicking back to his face. He wasn't sure if her expression was approving or the opposite.

“Yeah, the Guardians of the Galaxy was already taken, so…” the boy said, the sentence trailing off as he either lost his train of thought or the energy to complete it. Julius gave a dry almost-grimace at the joke out of politeness.

“I’m Ziggy, and uh, I’ll let the lady make her own introductions,” he continued.

"I'm Venus," she cut in. "But you both can call me Vee if you want."

A moment of silence stretched for just slightly too long before Julius realised he should probably say something.

“Uh.. nice to meet you guys.”

“Pretty rough back there, man.” Ziggy said, his tone slightly hostile as he nodded in the direction of Lily. She had looked shell shocked after he had opened up on her, and rightfully so. He would be lying if he said he didn’t regret it, but as floor manager this party thing was kind of wholly her responsibility. If she couldn’t control a small first-week gathering what hope would she have for the rest of the year?

“You feelin’ okay?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? For a second Julius’ temper flared and he felt like opening up the pressure valve again. But where would that get him? Making enemies this early wasn’t a good idea, and he’d already dicked around the floor manager. With difficulty he controlled his pissiness and let out a pent-up sigh.

“I don’t know, man. I’ve just been so highly strung lately.” He held up a slightly shaky hand to show them before continuing. “I feel like I’m balanced on a tightrope above a pit of losing control and being a prick… and this party was like someone sweeping out my legs from under me.” Julius fell silent for a moment as he realised he was probably sharing more than the question required. “I guess I’ve just never been too good at letting loose and enjoying myself. Wish I knew how.” He leaned forward in his chair and ran his hands through his long hair, balancing his elbows on his outstretched knees.

“Hey, why don’t you try one? They’re my special recipe.” Ziggy pushed the brownie plate closer to Julius before exchanging a grin with Venus that Julius was too distracted to notice. The dark chocolate, slightly crispy looking brownies did look inviting.

"Yeah, you should definitely try one," she said, smiling too. "I ate one earlier. Pretty good if you ask me."

Julius eyed the brownie plate with slight curiosity. The two of them seemed slightly keener than just trying out Ziggy’s ‘special recipe’ warranted, but what was the worst that could happen? He stretched a hand out and selected a particularly chunky looking one from the top of the pile. As he raised it to his mouth, he looked back at the two expectant faces on the couch. Shaking off the slightly uneasy gut feeling he had about the brownie, he bit down.

“Well...” Julius struggled initially for words. “It’s not bad.” This was a blatant lie. It tasted like no brownie he had eaten before- the taste of chocolate seemed to have been an afterthought added after an overpowering flavour of what almost reminded him of eating grass. Holding the brownie closer to the light he could see little specks of green in between the crispy chocolate chunks. He picked one out and inspected the small piece on the end of his finger.

“Dude, what’s up with this? Did you put herbs in here or something?” He was almost more curious and baffled than annoyed at the weird taste. While every brownie he’d eaten before had tasted a lot sweeter, those had been back home across the country. Their ways were a lot different to his own here. They probably did more folk dancing. And who knew, maybe they made their brownies savoury with herbs too.

Palm Beach Royals: Senior Year

---

Coming back inside had been a mistake. He’d lost track of his date quickly in the whirling lights and dancers, and had ended up looking lost around the drinks table. His only constant companion was the cup of punch in his hand as people dropped in for a drink and a quick chat before dipping out again to rejoin the dancing. He felt almost in a dream, sidelined in what was supposed to be one of the biggest parties of their senior year (He’d missed Diablo’s big bash a month earlier). Normally he would be right in with the rest of them, dancing and drinking but tonight it was the last thing he felt like doing.

Through heavy eyelids he watched the events of the night- Sonny and Salem’s rather one-sided excuse for a fight; Kavi getting caught out on his double-timing; Chanel and Lucas’ confrontation. He even saw and heard the less public moments of romance, although it seemed that only the gays had been getting any action that night. Declan had smiled at the sight of Kavan and Archer’s little moment, and the smile grew when he saw Oliver Grayson kissing Stella. He’d have to follow up with the boy on that one- his gaydar had pinged on meeting him and he’d given Declan no reason to disbelieve it over the years.

Yet as he watched the night’s events, the wallflower felt no motivation to move. With one eye on the large wall clock on the opposite end of the hall and his mind imagining the scene of his graduation, the time passed very slowly. As the hour hand ticked closer to twelve the punch bowl suddenly grew more inviting. The dance was still chugging along but the crowd had slightly thinned, leaving the drinks table rather empty. Perhaps a little more liquor would keep him sane for the rest of the night.

The punch burned his throat as he drained the cup and he coughed. What the hell at Chanel put in this stuff? Yet he kept drinking, almost on automatic he saw his hand go out for the ladle for a refill, over and over and over… how did the level keep going down in his cup? It must have a hole in the bottom or something. Maybe more punch would clear his mind. He was feeling slightly dazed and with a moment of clarity realised just how drunk he was.

The only feeling that overpowered his drunkenness was a sudden burn in his stomach, and he lurched to his feet as he felt the acid rise in his throat. His head swum with the sudden movement and he almost fell, rescuing himself by balancing a hand gingerly on the table. Declan stumbled across the hall to the glowing toilets sign and pushed through the swing door of one of the cubicles, dropping to his knees as he dry heaved. His head was banging like a drum, and he thought back with regret at all those cups of punch.

His vision blurred over, before blacking out entirely as he slumped mercifully into sleep.

---

A painful rapping sound woke Declan from his slumber. He raised his head painfully from where it had lay balanced on the toilet seat and looked back with bleary eyes. A guffawing cleaner stood at the entrance of the bathrooms knocking the end of his broom against the door.

“Feeling alright there, son?” he asked with a twinkle of laughter in his eye. Declan merely moaned and struggled to lift his head over streaks of vomit. The pressure mounted behind his eyes and ballooned into a headache as he strained to stand, before rushing over to the sink. He splashed refreshingly cold water on his face before tilting his head down to gulp from the stream of water.

Declan left the cleaner in the bathroom and stumbled through the main hall. The party last night had left it in an absolute state and a small army of janitors worked to restore it’s previous pristine condition. He snorted as he spotted one down on his hands and knees scrubbing at a trail of blood, remembering Ariel’s sweet jab to Kavi’s nose last night. He passed the punch bowl on his way to the exit and drew closer, but the fruity smell that had enticed him hours ago now only turned his stomach.

The sunlight outside stabbed at Declan’s eyes and he scrabbled at his pockets for his sunglasses. It seemed that he had left them somewhere inside, but at the moment turning around to look for them was the last thing he wanted to do. He instead fished his phone out, noting just one missed call from Max as he powered it on. Instagram was full of pictures of Homecoming and he managed a cracked grin as he recognized a blurry version of himself in the background of some of the more popular kids photos.

His tortuous journey across the bright carpark ended as he flung himself into the front seat of his car, lowered the visor to block out some sun rays and breathed a sigh of relief. The Homecoming nightmare was over, but now what?