Love Be Damned: The Chronicles of Wayne Book 1

By Terrance Johnson

Cotton Candy, Full Moons.
Fabled Lovers. A Cursed Virgin's Bite.
If You Go Where Monster's Dance
Red will Reign Over Your House
Love Be Damned

"That sounds like a load of gibberish if you ask me, Barb." - Wayne Johnson

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781796084276

Book preview

Chapter One

The first thing I noticed were his eyes. Those big eyes that were like two drops of cotton candy. A rush of kindness and sweetness. I drown in them so easily. So easily I forget that I’m staring, and he catches me.

Great. Awkward. Way to go, Wayne.

I pull my Spider-man notebook in front of my face to avoid further embarrassment.

High School, either the best four years of your life or the worst, depending on how you started it. And Redbark High is no different. Everyone has a clique and by the time you are a sophomore you have to know which one you are in.

You have the popular kids like sigh…Adam. They’re composed of mostly the rich kids or those who were born with really good genes. You know the ones who wake up and look like they didn’t even have to try. They can throw on a pair of ripped jeans and messy hair and the whole school will still want a piece of them.

Then there are the goths, the punk and rock teens that give black is the new outsiders. Funny thing is, they aren’t even the worst group to be associated with. Like a murder of crows they fly together and always look out for one another. Though if you happen to be wearing any form of black around them, they stock you around the school. Best to avoid wearing it if you can.

The jocks, are filled with every one of our high school’s sports team. We only have three though, football, cross country and track. Redbark High is famous for its track and cross country team. We have single-handily won for the last three years straight thanks to the track and cross country, varsity captain, Adam.

There’s also the geeks, who can fix anything electronic from your iPhone to your science test scores through hacking if you even acknowledge them. These exclude the anime nerds who cosplay to school in their organization XIII drench coats and Naruto headbands. The two claim they don’t associate with the other.

The queens are the next to last clique in our high school, a mix of the high school cheerleaders and the flamboyant gays. They practically run the school.

And finally the Harvards, the ones who study all day, every-day, even during lunch. They are the ones taking the honor roll classes and always are looking for extra credit harder than a janitor trying to scrape gum from under the lunch tables. You just know there are going to grow up owning a business and have people work for them.

So you’re probably wondering what clique I fit into right. To be honest, I don’t really know. Ever since high school started I never felt like I belonged in any of them. I’m kind of in-between in the nerds and the queens because there’s one other thing that makes me different.

The closet case. I want to be out, but I don’t really feel like a queen at all. I just feel like I’m me but more.

That’s right. I’m black, gay, a High School Senior and my best friend’s a girl. I’m sure I’ll win the vote for least likely to get laid by prom. Yes, to top the icing on this terrible loveless story… I’m a virgin. I’ve never even kissed a guy.

And trust me, it’s obvious.

When you get laid in High School, you are like a God among Gods. There’s just a glow about you and everyone notices it. God, I wish he would just notice me just—

Mr. Johnson, would you like to join the class today? Mrs. Health, the history teacher asks, or are you too busy in the fantasy land, fighting off werewolves with silver bullets?

I place down my notebook with my thin hands and offer her a warm smile, and showing a grin from ear to ear. My skin tone is what some would consider milk chocolate and my eyes are almond. I have a low-fade haircut that I’ve always had since I was a kid. I’ve always been afraid of how I would look changing it. I wear plain kahki shorts with my favorite Doc Oc shirt from Into the Spiderverse with the quote My friends call me Liz…but my enemies call me Doc Oc.

Actually, I correct her, silver bullets aren’t the only weapons lethal to a werewolf. In fact, it would probably be the least convenient as you would have to aim it and hit it several times in the right places to take it down. You could weaken it, but you would more likely piss it off if you don’t hit anything vital. Preferably, there’s wolfs bane that will paralyze them, blessed artifacts or swords and vervain flowers are generally great against anything supernatural…

Before I can troll on about all the weaknesses of werewolves and the supernatural, she dismisses me with a wave of her hand. The class erupts into laughter.

There are two perks to being a class genius. One is, you cannot pay attention in any of your classes and still get an A+. and two, (daring a glance back at Adam, he’s watching me, smiling), you can talk back to the teacher with no repercussions, and the hottest guy in school will give you respect.

The bell rings and fourth period ends. Alright, class, she tells us, Tonight make sure you read over chapters eight…nine and … I know what you’re thinking, this isn’t the story you were promised. You want to get to the werewolves, the princes and the night that changed my life. Well cut me some slack, I’m still new to this. Remember I was human once like you, so hold your horses. It only gets better from here.

I slam my locker closed.

Oh my god it gets so much worse from here. I complain to my best friend. We’re standing in the hallway next to our lockers where we always meet after fourth period, just before lunch.

She’s always there for me, always listens to me, always so…honest.

You were staring at him in class again today, weren’t you?

Totally.

Meet Barb. Her actual name is Barbara, but she hates it because it reminds her of Batman’s ally, Jim Gordon’s daughter. Personally, I think Barbara Gordon is awesome. Who wouldn’t want to be named after Bat Girl? She kicks ass! She prefers Superman though. She even thinks he could beat Batman in a one-on-one fight.

I beg to differ.

As usual my best friend has her red curly locks all in disarray, uncaring. Her mom tells her she would look a lot prettier if she wore it down, but Barb doesn’t want to associated with the norm. She is opposite of me in almost every physical sense with freckles covering her cheeks and across her nose like a bridge to the other side. Her eyes are beautiful though, like two green lakes. And she’s wearing her signature Kuriboh shirt and blue jeans, with cat ears.

Most of the whole High School dresses around the holidays, but the seniors mostly do it because of the Halloween parties they throw while their parents are out. I’ve been to one of those parties too. I was just too scared to go inside.

But his eyes… I say.

Are like cotton candy, I know! she moans playfully, If you tell me that one more time, I swear I’m going on a sweets diet.

You wouldn’t last one day!

No way, I could totally do it…if I wanted to.

Mm-hmm, then I guess I’ll have to eat all that extra Trick or Treat candy by myself this weekend?

Her eyes thin on me, You wouldn’t dare.

A playful threat. I even with her stare, Try me.

We erupt into laughter.

And then it comes from behind, like every morning. Shove! I almost completely tumble over myself, but manage to catch myself with the locker handle. I’m used to this by now. My fourth period menace, Axe-Hand Drake.

He’s been doing this to me since I ratted on him for getting a blowjob in the boy’s locker room by the head cheerleader. He chased me down that same day with an axe he got out of the school’s emergency fire case. Though what the hell an axe is going to do in the event of a fire or tornado, the genius who thought of that will have to fill me in.

Fortunate for me, the glass had an alarm and a teacher got between us before he could do any real damage. Since then, that’s been my name for him.

Drake is easily bigger than me, so I know I don’t stand a chance against him a fight. He might be short but his muscles easily make up for that in intimidation. Everyone usually has to turn sideways just for them both to go through the same hallway.

Move it, Faggot. He taunts.

Oh no, Drake. My liege. I scriptfully bow, How dare I, a lowly commoner be blocking your path in this super spacious hallway? However, somehow, I find myself blocking your path every day. Where should I stand tomorrow, my liege? Perhaps across the hall? In a bathroom stall? …The gym locker room?

That earns me another good shove. A few other teens in the hallway glance over, chuckle then go back to what they were doing.

I swear to God, fag if you ever try me like that again, I’ll knock your teeth straight for the first time in your life.

So it’s true, I’m not out of the closet. Not to everyone anyways. A few people know. My mom, my dad. Sammy, Barb and her mom but Drake is just a dick to me because I only hang out with Barb at school and no one else. Barb’s mom likes to joke that Drake might be in the closet too and secretly hitting on me.

The thought makes me gag.

Oh, I’ve been looking for a cheap dental plan, but do you think you could do that to yourself first? You could use a little work. He winds up his fist. I see everyone in the hallway glancing over curiously again, ready to pull out their phones and update their snapchat stories and Instagram. No one in the age of the cellphone is willing to help anymore, everything is all about the views.

Here it comes, I flinch, sliding down to the floor hoping to avoid it.

Really, Drake? Isn’t this a bit cliché even for you? The voice of an angel asks from behind him.

Get lost, Adam. Drake scowls, I don’t have a problem with you.

Maybe, but I’d advise against it. You know…unless you want to fight me.

Drake glances back from me to Adam and then unclenches his fist. Whatever. Better not get in my way again, faggot. And with that he walks off into the crowd of students. I watch amazed. Everyone else in the hall attention turns to Adam. Gossiping about who they think he was dating or was seen holding his other’s hand in the hallway the other day. The entire town we live is one big gossip but me and Drake are old news.

I shake my head at them disappointed. And then I realize he’s still here, standing in front of me. Smiling, with his hand offering to help me up.

Here. A single word. Simple. Yet so powerful. I melt my hand into his. I’ve never touched it before. Unless you count the time I purposely bumped into him at the water fountain and made a pathetic excuse about my bookbag sagging. He didn’t mind.

But now in this moment I can. His hand feels bigger than a normal hand should be. And he’s strong. I mean, really strong. He practically lifts me onto my feet with a flex of his shoulder.

You alright? he asks me, I simply nod, too stunned to speak, Good. I’m glad to hear that. Students have to look out for one another, right? I lamely nod again with a weak smile, he laughs softly, I’ll see you around, Wayne. He walked away with a nod to me, and a wink to Barb. Once he heads down the hall the queens and girls in our school trail after him, while the guys head off towards lunch.

My back slams against the locker watching him go. I always wondered what it was like to be accepted by everyone without even having to do anything. By just being born, by just being beautiful, by just being you. I wish I didn’t have to hide all the time, maybe then it would inspire someone else like me to stand up. Or maybe even let me into a group that I could belong to. Or maybe…Axe-Hand Drake would admit his feelings for me like Helga did Arnold.

I feel bile in my throat in my again.

Did that just happen? Barb ask me.

Yes! I exclaims.

We both watch him go with dreamy eyes. There was always an air of mystery around the most popular guy at school. No one had ever heard him talk about home, his parents, next to nothing but no one really knew why. In a town like Redbark that’s a lot to gossip about. Perhaps that’s what made him all the more alluring to me.

As Barb and I walk down the hall towards the cafeteria we pass students in the Theater Club hanging decorations of spider-webs, paper machete golems, candy-corn and pumpkin faces all across the walls and hanging off the sides of the balconies. The theater teacher Mrs. Gold is dressed a black witch in the gown and all. She is handing out pieces of candy to students passing by, everyone takes one including me and Barb.

Leave it to Redbark High to get into the spirit of the holidays, even if it doesn’t mean we don’t lose a week of school. Everyone loves free candy.

After fourth period, we have lunch. Barb and I sit together on the far side of the courtyard in the inner circle.

It’s where the anime nerds and cosplayers like to hang out. We don’t associate with them directly but there’s always an entertaining show. The really nerdy freshmen who haven’t understood the cliques of High School always hang out here with them in anime clothing, Naruto headbands, makeshift soul reaper zanpuktos, One-Piece straw hats and just recently My Hero Academia hairstyles.

Right now, their reenacting the final battle between Aizen and Final Getsuga Ichigo, but with a spin on it. I personally prefer their version over the ending we got. It needed more build-up and it’s always a fun show to watch while eating, like lunch and a movie.

Sosuke Aizen, Freshman Ichigo says, holding out some makeshift sword made out of brown paper towel roll holders with a cross guard, I won’t let you do as you like anymore to Redbark! I’m going to stop you here and now!

Heh—heh! The Freshman Aizen chuckles. He also has a make shift sword of his own, but it’s made out of colored markers. Kurosaki Ichigo, you don’t even understand. Since before the day you were born, I have planned out your every move. From the death of you mother to you joining the Vizards and mastering it’s powers. All so that you would ascend to something beyond the level of a Soul Reaper or Vizard, into something more! Something that I could test the full extent of the Hogyoku and kill you.

Freshman Ichigo blinks at him several times before replying with, Um, I didn’t even know what I was going to have for breakfast this morning so like weird flex but ok. This gets a chuckle out of all of us. Enough talk. This is the end, Aizen! I will avenge my family and my friends! FINAL GETSUGA TENSHO—O!! He screams at the top of his lungs. I’m sure the entire courtyard could hear him. They swing their blades at each other.

The markers scatter across the ground at the swing of Freshman Ichigo’s paper towel roll-blade and he lands a soft but loud whack on Aizen’s head. The fake Aizen pretends his eyes roll behind his head and falls forward onto the ground defeated.

This gets screams from the nerdy girls and guys watching the fake fight take place, but it’s interrupted by the yelling of the jocks, Will you nerds shut the hell up! Everyone in the inner circle laughs uncaring.

I love anime but I’m not brave enough to join their clique. My reputation would only drop even lower, if that’s even possible. With the fight now over, the bell rings for fifth period and me and Barb part ways.

Catch you after seventh period? She asks.

Totally! I reply.

The rest of the school day is mostly bland, nothing you haven’t already experienced before. Three more classes: Science, Gym and English, then the bell rings allowing us to be free to go.

After school I meet up with Barb at our lockers to discuss our annual Halloween weekend tradition, Monster Mash: popcorn, tons of candy, and those old black and white monster movies we both love. I know they don’t hold up to the modern cinematic scenery, but they do have a lot better story.

Nothing beats the classics. They aren’t filmed with hot models and ripped men like the twenty-first century has become. They were more realistic, normal people. Ordinary people, who were bitten or attacked by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. A happen of chance rather than looking like the next Channing Tatum model.

That’s what makes them so scary and believable. One night, one bite, could make the average scaredy joe the most fearsome creature in existence. Usually though, it’s a Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde experience such as werewolves, humans who are scared of the change and don’t want it but are forced to under the full moon. Rarely, unless they were sociopaths in life do, they embrace it.

I always wondered what I would do if I was a monster. Would I kill someone? Would I want to? Could I stop myself if I tried?

Barb calls me back.

Same time tonight? Barb asks me as I’m unlocking my locker.

Of course. It never changes. It’s still a school night though, think your mom will care if we’re up a bit late tonight?

Not at all! My mom loves you. She always calls you the son she never had.

Funny, my parents call me the son they never wanted.

They do not.

You’re right, they just avoid me and don’t talk to me, and if we happen to be in the same room, they make an excuse to leave.

She punches me playfully in the arm. I’m sorry, kiddo. You’re the Robin in this scenario and your parents are the Batman. Eventually they will come around.

Sure, after I’m captured by the Joker, beaten to near death with a crow bar and blown up in an abandoned barn. At that point even, I hope I’m dead before I pull a Jason Todd.

You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. she quotes.

Honking.

Barb’s mom is here to pick her up and take her home. She’s a sweetheart, but she doesn’t realize how much she is murdering Barb’s social cred. Though to be honest I would kill for even a little bit of that kind of attention.

The last time my mom and dad hugged me and told me she would always love me was a minute before I told them ‘I think I’m gay’ in sixth grade. She and dad had a long pause and told me that it would pass, it was just a phase.

In seventh grade, I tried out for open modeling, and she took me there because she said everyone thought I had a great smile. It was fun and we took lots of pictures, most of them I still have, but one day she saw me smile awkwardly at a really cute guy, who was also in the young model industry. He smiled back.

She never took me back there again and hasn’t spoken a word to me about it since.

Dad tries a bit harder. Every morning he asks if I have a girlfriend yet and nothing more. One day, he begged he would even take Barb at this point. I ignored him so I’m getting the silent treatment from him too.

Don’t they understand your sexuality isn’t a flip of a switch? It’s not something you can turn on and off. Though sometimes I wish I could. Maybe then I could feel ‘normal’.

I walk over to my ride. The steel fiber rider Max 1000. A green Schwinn crafted in a style that could challenge those traditional marathon bikers. I love the feeling of the wind. The kiss it gives me when I’m riding the breeze, the speed. It makes me feel powerful, fast, alive. I’m about to hop on it and ride all the way home when I realize something is wrong.

I have a flat. Typical. I scan the dispersing crowd and spot Drake walking over to his GT mustang laughing. More of his pranks. I reach into my book bag and pull out a spare inner tube and tire patch. I’ve gotten so used to his tricks now that I always carry a spare.

My parents never question it. And when they do, they leave a sticky note on a table explaining I must have ridden so fast I didn’t realize I ran over something sharp. They don’t question anything I do. I could disappear someday, and it would probably be the greatest day of their lives. They say a parent’s love is unconditional, damned if that ever be true.

It takes me no time to pop the new tube into the wheel and I patch up the tire. I’m on my way down the familiar streets of Redbark that I know so well.

I’ve lived in this town all my life. The town is so very small. We have a neighborhood-Walmart, a drive-in movie theater, the few fast food joints with two schools, among the usual things like gas stations, businesses, hospitals all on the same road. The Kindergarten through eighth grade is one school and