May 11: There were so many...

"Hey, c'mon man. You can tell us."

CC wasn't surprised that the two teens had returned to the store. Deana had told him they'd been in asking about him on his day off. When he'd looked up from his book and seen them; he not only recognized them instantly, but he knew before the first one spoke what they wanted. The idea of telling these two kids his secret... Yeah. No way. Not that he supposed they really cared about his secret...no. They wanted a secret he didn't have, some mysterious way of getting into the school to pull off a prank.

"I really can't." He shook his head. They could come in every day and beg and plead. No way could he tell them about what had apparently become Morrisonville High's most epic senior prank ever. He hadn't given in to the demands of his principal, counselors or parents back then, and he wouldn't cave now either. Self-preservation. That's what life was all about. Keeping secrets kept you alive, and unmolested. Telling everyone everything? He'd end up a joke on the Jerry Springer show or dissected on some scientist's lab table. There were so many ways that talking about his talent could go wrong that he'd understood immediately that keeping quiet was for the best.

"But school's out soon, and we haven't been able to come up with anything that epic!" Frustration showed in the teen's voice, defeat in his buddy's posture.

CC swiped at the counter with a damp rag and glared at the boy. "How is repeating my prank going to be epic? Is copying anything epic?"

"We wouldn't copy it...just use your method and..."

"And what? Fill the boy's restroom with ping pong balls?  It's still the same thing!" He slammed his hand down, forgetting about the rag and sending bleach water droplets flying. One hit him in the eye and stung, and damn it...CC blinked and blinked but tears formed. He couldn't tell these boys his trick...because it didn't exist. He didn't have any secret way of getting into the school. All he had was a...talent that was unbelievably stupid and useless.

"He's right." The silent youth spoke up for the first time. "Chris..."

"We wouldn't fill the restroom with anything. It would just be awesome to get into the school to do anything...it opens up so many more possibilities!"

 "I didn't sneak into the school. It was during the school day," He pointed out logically.

"Which makes it even more incredible! Look, Jimmy and me...we've been through hell at that school...leaving a legacy like yours would be...we'd be legends instead of nobodies."

"I'm sorry." CC shook his head. That was something he could relate to. He'd been a nobody all his life after all. If there were any way...but there wasn't. "I can't tell you how I did it. But maybe we could do something...think of something just as awesome." Awesome wasn't the word for his prank though. He'd been horrified...mortified... If it had been possible, he'd have sunk through the floor and disappeared that day. And not because Jake McCann and Terence Thorn were threatening to beat him to death because they fancied he'd looked a little too long at Terry's junk in the locker room, either. As if... To think, that photo of him in a sea of marshmallows spilling from the restroom was still on display at the high school...

Tires squealed and CC's attention jerked to the window. "Damn it!" Drive-offs were rare, but they happened. He barely caught the tail end of the car roaring out of the parking lot, but clearly... His glance traveled swiftly to the readout. Sixty-three dollars' worth of gas... He'd have to call the cops. Which meant that there was a fairly good chance that Mat would be sent out to take the report. The convenience store seemed to be part of his beat. CC groaned, buried his face in his hands. Just what he needed. As if fantasizing about the cop wasn't enough...he got to look like an idiot in front of his crush once again.

"Damn it!" He yelled again, whirling to glare at the two teens who'd distracted him. "Look, if you two aren't buying anything, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." He turned his back on them and reached for the phone. Butterflies were doing the rumba in his tummy and his fingertips were tingling. Cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck.

Idiot. It's not like Mat is going to answer the phone himself. They have a switchboard for a reason.

CC shrugged, keeping his gaze focused on the parking lot, as though he harbored some secret hope that the drive off had been an accident, that the driver of the vehicle had gone to get their wallet and would return in seconds. Wouldn't that be something? Some proof of the goodness of humanity? More like proof of your naïveté and stupidity. Like we needed more of that.

"Man....you're just like all the rest of them."

The buzzer on the door went off, signaling the two teens departure.

Before CC could process who the rest of them were, or how he, who had been an outsider all his life, could be one of them, the operator answered.

"Morrisonville Police. How may I direct your call?"

"Mat?" Of course it was. Because why wouldn't it be? A sensual shiver traced its way down CC's body, a relic of all the fantasies he'd been having of Mat Giraud lately.

Plop. Plop. Plop.

"CC? Are you looking for me?"

"Not exactly. I'm at work and I needed to report a drive-off."

"I can't come out, I'm manning reception for Holly. Hang on and I'll send someone over to you." There were muffled voices in the background, then Mat's voice came back. "I'm sending my cousin over. He'll take your report."

CC blinked off the tug of sexy thoughts and focused. "Uh...cousin?"

"Thorn? You probably remember him from high school."

Grimacing CC gnawed at his lower lip for a second. He remembered Thorn all right. The bulky football player had taken a great deal of pleasure in taunting and bullying CC in high school. In fact, he'd been hiding from Thorn in that second floor restroom when...it happened.  "Er...there isn't anyone else?"

"You have a problem with Officer Thorn?" Mat's voice was sharp, accusatory.

"N...No. Not at all." He wished he could just hang up, but he had to file the report or corporate would come down hard on them. Maybe he could pay it himself...but he well knew that he had a grand total of twenty-seven dollars in his wallet, and that had to last the week. "Send whoever is available." He finished miserably.