We pulled into the driveway behind the U-Haul. Already they had the ramp down and went on opening the door.

        “Welcome home sweetie,” mom said patting my shoulder excitedly. She got out of the car happy as a bee. I, on the other hand, was one apathetic bastard.

        “Yippee,” I whispered.

        I got out and looked at the house. It was okay, a simple two story structure, red in color. A bit smaller than our old house.

        Autumn was in full effect. The tree leaves were an explosion of reds, yellow and orange. My new home looked good surrounded by all the brightly colored leaves. My camera was packed away in a box. Instead, I pulled out my cell and took a few pictures. Looking at the building I would be occupying for the foreseeable future made me think of my old home.

        It had been little over two hours since we left and I was already home sick. I lived in Cambridge for over ten years. There are so many memories back home. There was comfort and a sense of belonging. But there is nothing here, a blank slate. A book with no words waiting to be filled. That is what I needed. A fresh start, a new beginning, and yet as I looked at the place I now called home I felt a yearning in my heart for the place I once lived.

        Moving can suck. I had to leave all my friends behind. I didn’t know anyone in this town. Though my mom knew almost everyone, she would have an easier time being here than I would. People were already coming out of their own houses to come greet us. I wasn’t looking forward to shaking hands and talking to our new neighbors.

        Perhaps I’m being a bit moody, but after the events of the last several months my mood was bound to be dark and broody. Mom is excited to be back in her hometown. She said we needed something fresh and new and exciting; we needed to start over. Wolf Fang Falls was where she had been born and grew up, so she thought it would be a good place to start over. You know the whole going back to your roots thing.

        I had no friends, no support system save for her. And I was a junior so making any lasting strong bonds of friendship seemed kind of pointless.

Mom had told me all kinds of stories of her hometown when I was growing up. There had once been a time when I believed I might have fun if I ever came here.

        Wolf Fang Falls sounded badass, but as I was quickly learning, the town was far from it.

 It was dull. Very dull.

        I would have been happy to move out of state or at least to a city where things would be more interesting and I could find more ways to preoccupy myself. But this was important to mom so like a good son I put on a happy face and shook hands and made conversations when all I really wanted to do was lock myself away from the world.

        I had to do it for her; it’s my fault we had to move after all. After what happened back in Cambridge we had to leave. Mom acted like I wasn’t the reason but I know better.

 Let’s put it like this: I am gay. had a boyfriend whom I loved more than anything besides my mom. The bastard broke my heart which was followed by severe stress and depression and was ended with my mother’s desperate attempt to make things better for me.

        Which is part of the reason for my pissy attitude. I was angry about what happened, I was bitter how we had to move because of it. Bitter and guilty: and afraid.

But on the other hand I am kind of glad we moved. I needed to get away from there, from Lucas. Mom knew I was in a relationship, but she didn’t know the guy was-among other things-a tad bit older. I went to school with him and we started dating when he was a senior and continued to do so after he graduated. We had to keep it a secret for obvious reasons.

        I still haven’t told mom. If I wanted to be a real dick I would, but I was not some bitter tween who couldn’t handle rejection. I wasn’t going to act like those early days didn’t mean something and throw him to the dogs because of what happened.

        I still miss him, I miss the time we spent together; I miss the feel of him holding me at night. But that part of my life is over. Time to start again.

        God, school was going to suck bad. Everyone knows being the new kid blows. Especially when you look like I do. Plus in a small town like this everyone has known one another since they were kids. They possessed long established ties of friendship. More than likely a lot of people at school would consider one another family even.

        I would be the new guy, an out of towner. In a small town like this a new family is a hot topic. I remember back home whenever we got a new student he or she would be the talk of school. It doesn’t last, sooner or later the excitement and fascination will wear off, then you are just another face in the crowed.

        It did not take long for people to emerge from their homes to welcome us to the neighborhood; they were quick to offer us assistance. With their help we quickly got everything out of the U-Haul and into the house. Mom introduced me to all of them because of course she knew them all.

        Then I met their kids as well and by the time I had been introduced to everyone I barely remembered any of their names. Once every box was inside mom herded everyone outside and thanked them for their help. Many of the women asked if mom wanted their help to unpack. She politely declined.

        Once she closed the front door she turned around and rubbed her hands together.

        “I can’t believe I am living here. I must have passed by this place hundreds of times on my way to school. It’s amazing when you see a place all the time then find yourself living there later in life.”

        “Did you know the family who lived here?” I asked.

        “They had a son and daughter who I went to school with but we weren’t friends,” she said.

She walked over to one of the box’s and opened it up. She began to reach in and pull out some picture frames.

        “I am going up to my room to unpack,” I said.

        I walked upstairs, leaving mom to go through the boxes by herself; closing the door softly behind me I looked around my new room.

        The walls were blue like the sky on a sunny day; I liked the color. There were two windows, one facing the front of the house and the other to the left of the building. I peered outside and could barely see our neighbors home thanks to the cover of trees. Once the leaves withered their house would be more visible.

        I would have to remember to keep my curtains closed on this window

        I grabbed my computer and turned it on. We didn’t have Wi-Fi yet. Mom had called to have it installed with our cable service and it would be about a week before a worked came out to instal everything.

        Once the computer was on and running I pulled up my pictures and began scrolling through the folders.

        I loved taking photos.

        There was something about capturing a single moment and preserving it for years and years that appealed to me. To show future generations of moment in time that happened before they were born, or showing a single second of awe and wonder that could inspire a person.

        I took pictures of a lot of things. People, animals, nature.

        I get it from my grandfather. We have box’s of photos he had taken over the course of his life. I remember sitting next to him as he showed me places he had visited and people he had met.

I wanted to be like him. To travel around the world, experiencing the world and all its wonders. To meet people who viewed the world from a different perspective and lived in different ways.

        I want to be face to face with some exotic animal in its natural habitat and capture nature in all its wrathful glory. To record scenes of joy or terrible pain, to capture pure, raw emotion in a single frame and show what humanity looks like.

        I feel like people today lack the drive our ancestors had. That it is pointless to travel and explore all the wonders of the world when you can just turn on your TV or go on your computer and go to Google and look up images online.

        But seeing is different from experiencing. I recently turned seventeen and I have already seen some amazing things. It gave me a new appreciation for the world I live in.

        As I scrolled down the numerous folders filled with the countless pictures I had taken over the years I soon found myself staring at the folder with the pictures of me and Lucas.

        All our dates and intimate moments. All the photos of him that I loved. Once they were treasured memories for me to savor at my leisure.

        Now they are a bitter reminder of what I had lost. I highlighted the folder and my finger hovered over the delete button.

        I should just get rid of them all. I didn’t want to be one of those pathetic exes who stare at pictures of their former loves, feeling nothing but self-pity and bitterness.

        The whole point of moving here was so I could start over. But I wasn’t ready to forget my old life just yet.

        Letting go had been easy, but forgetting?

        That’s the real bitch.

*****

Three days after we moved to town Mom dropped me off at the school.

        We still had more unpacking to do, but we got most of it done and all the major nick-nacks were put away so now we could work at a slow pace.

        She had to go to work at the hospital today. She had been a nurse back home and transferred over here. I took a deep breath and walked into the school with a nice smile on my face. The secretary handed me my schedule, and I made my way to my first class.

        The secretary had even given me a map so I could navigate around the place. It wasn’t too hard, the school wasn’t that big. My first class was History, so I made my way first to period.

Students were already inside and all eyes were on me as I went in. I took a deep breath and ignored them. I took a seat, quite aware that people were looking at me as they talked amongst themselves.

I was used to the stares and the looks. Even back in Cambridge, people would watch me, even though I grew up knowing just about everyone there. Though the looks I was getting from these people were more intense and I could tell they were surprised at what they saw.

        They saw a new guy, five foot eight, with black glossy hair and a shade of eyes that was between blue and violet and skin so pale it was the color of a blank sheet of paper. I had been a big target for bullies. With my eyes and delicate appearance I drew in the assholes who thought it fun to beat up the girly boy.

        I hated the way I looked. My fingers were too long and thin, my lips were too small and soft. My body was sleek and smooth and my skin was so white you could see the veins on my arms and around my neck, I did have some muscle but only as much as God and Nature (who seem to both have enjoyed making me girly) would allow.

        I worked out a lot, it helped give me the muscles and a six pack which helped balance my appearance. It was an advantage though, bullies would look at me and figured I was an easy target, then they got a fist in the face and found out I wasn’t someone to dick with.

        I dressed in jeans and a blue shirt. The shirt helped bring out the blue in my eyes and made them seem less violet.

        When I am at home, I like to wear loose fitting cloths but when I go out, I wear tight t-shirts that show off my muscles. Not for the sake of vanity, just to make it easier for people to see I am not a girl.

        I looked over at a group of guys, obviously jocks. I envied them for their physiques, their burliness, and their masculinity. They could protect themselves; no one would dare go after them. They were mighty beasts. I on the other hand, was a little helpless lamb with a mean right hook.

        And I fucking hated it!

        “Hello,” a voice said.

        I turned and saw a girl; she had blue eyes and red hair with freckles on her cheeks. There was something familiar about her.

        “Hi,” I replied back.

        “I am Rachel, welcome to our school,” she said. “We met yesterday. I helped you and your mom move.”

        I remembered her now. There had been so many people I barely remember them all. She had been one of the few who didn’t introduce themselves.

        “Things were so busy and I am sure you would lose my name among everyone else,” she said.

        She stared into my eyes and I knew she was checking out the odd color. Because of my eyes and my skin tone people assumed I was an albino.

        “Your name is Jeremy right?” she asked.

        “Yes,” I answered.

        She offered me her hand. “Welcome to Wolf Fang Falls.”

        “Thanks,” I said and shook her hand.

        Class started and the teacher, Mr. Kristof started the class by letting everyone know that I was the new student (like they didn’t already know) and my name. He told them all to make sure to help me out and make me feel welcome.

        Luckily he didn’t make me stand up and introduce myself and talk to the class. He was one of those polite but not overly nice teachers who went out of their way to make you feel like you belonged; which I was thankful for.

        “I have notes you can copy,” Rachel said next to me.

        “Thanks,” I told her.

        “If I get overbearing tell me. I have moved around a bit so I know what it is like being the new kid,” she said with a warm smile.

        I was quickly starting to like her. She seemed to be a genuine and honest person, but I have only known her for five minutes.

        But at least she is being honest so that gave her some extra points in my book. I only had two more years of school left, wouldn’t hurt to make some friends.

*****

I sat with Rachel and some of her friends at lunch when she saw me walking into the cafeteria she flagged me over to her table. We talked a little when we had a chance, she didn’t overload me with questions which I appreciated. Many of my other classmates had practically interrogated me.

        Swear to God if I have to tell someone I am not a freaking albino I am going to go apeshit!

        Rachel sat next to her boyfriend; a scrawny guy with trimmed brown hair and a pair of wide circular glasses that seemed to make his eyes bigger than they actually were. His name was Gabe.

        There was Heather, a girl with long, curly brown hair olive skin and a thin face who was a member of the cheer squad. I thought she was rather on the skinny side but kept it to myself.

        After all, who was I to bitch about appearances?

        Heath was Heather’s boyfriend, he was on the swim team and the football team; he had wide shoulders and a muscular body with dark coffee-colored skin and short trimmed hair.

        “So where do you come from?” Gabe asked.

        “Cambridge,” I said.

        “Oh, I have family there,” Heather smiled.

        “Yeah, my mom and I moved, she wanted to find a better paying job and found one as a nurse at the hospital here,” I said. “She has old school friends who live around here and one of them was able to find her a position at the hospital.”

        That was a half truth. We were doing quit well over in Cambridge but my personal issues forced us to move. But mom had been able to find work as a nurse over here thanks to some old friends who put in a good word for her.

        “Must suck to have to move, especially in junior year,” Heath commented.

        I nodded. “Yeah, but I have two more years. Plenty of time to make new friends.”

        “Can I ask you something?” Heather asked.

        “Sure.”

        “How did you get so beautiful?” she asked giving me an inquisitive look.

        “Heather!” Rachel admonished.

        I blushed, I tried not to, but with my skin it was impossible to hide even a little. I was used to being called beautiful before, I preferred manly or buff but no one would lie about that.

        Gabe and Heath laughed at my reaction.

        “What? I am sorry but you have beautiful skin and amazing eyes,” Heather noted.

        “Yeah, I get that a lot,” I said.

        “Do you use some kind of cream?” she asked.

        “No, I am all natural. I got some good genes is all,” I said.

        “More like great genes,” Heather retorted.

        “Believe me, I would give anything to look different. I look like I should be an extra on some fantasy movie,” I said.

        They all laughed at that.

        “You’re not that bad,” Heather said. “Nothing wrong with being different.”

        I could have made an argument about that but decided to drop it instead.

        Then I noticed a group of students walking in. It was a small group and the first thing I thought when I saw them was Socs. If you have ever read The Outsiders, you would know what I mean.

        They were all dressed wonderfully and stylishly. All looking like they were getting ready to walk down a runway. Their clothes were more expensive than anything I ever owned.

        They blended in with one another well, but they stuck out like a sore thumb compared to everyone else.

        They had an air of charisma and superiority about them. They walked close together and in perfect sync. Their looks all screamed high class. And other students seemed to avoid crossing paths with them or gave them a wide berth.

        “Jesus, are we next door to a prep school or something?” I asked.

        Everyone turned to look to see what I was talking about.

        “Oh, yeah. The Commune kids,” Gabe replied with a note of irritation.

        “The who?” I asked.

        “We call them the Commune kids, see they all live in a gated community, hence the name Commune kids. They have everything there; swimming pools, tennis courts, playgrounds, clubhouses, golf courses and of course everyone who lives there is filthy rich,” Rachel explained.

        “The mayor lives there. So does the sheriff, one of the doctors that work at the hospital, a lawyer and a bunch of other upper crust folk,” Heather added.

        “The kids from there go to our school, but they keep to themselves. Always have, always will,” Gabe said.

        I noticed that the Commune kids did not get trays; instead they all opened up their own lunch bags.

        It was than my eyes were drawn to one of them. He had an extremely beautiful blonde girl sitting next to him, her hand on his arm. She looked at him with adoring eyes. I didn’t blame her for the look, he really was a specimen.

        He was about six foot six, he had tan skin. I could see no signs of a tan line so I figured it had to be his natural skin color. His hair was glossy black like mine and was long in the front and short in the back. His cheeks were thin and firm. I was willing to bet he had some Native American in him. His lips were plump and red and they looked very kissable. He wore a school jersey. It had the black and red colors of our school and had the image of the school mascot on the left breast; a wolf baring its teeth.

His arms were thick like tree trunks and his neck was just as thick. Thick was a word you would use to describe him, or husky. There wasn’t a part of him that seemed small; his waist, his legs, even his feet seemed noticeably large.

        He was the biggest one, he sat at the center of their table and his woman wasn’t the only one giving him adoring looks.

        Another word you would think of when you looked at him was strong; he seemed to reek of strength that with his large body made him seem very intimidating.

        The blonde said something to him and he smiled, showing off a set of perfectly white even teeth that seemed to make him appear wolfish.

        If he was a wolf, he would definitely be an alpha male. Not just because of his size, which I was sure made people think twice about pissing him off. No, there was a way the others looked at him with a look of respect and admiration; it was the look a leader gets from his followers. There was also something very charismatic about him; when he smiled I wanted to smile as well, there was an energy to him that drew you in.

        I didn’t even know this guy, and I already felt respect for him, like if he told me to do something I would do it because he didn’t strike me as someone who you said no to. As I looked at him I found myself becoming more and more interested in him. Not just because of his good looks but because he was just glowing with a positive aura.

        I was willing to bet a whole year of my allowance he was a major prick.

        I could feel my fingers twitch with the familiar urge to get my phone and take a picture. The whole group looked like they could be on the cover of a brochure for our school. But the urge I felt was most directed at the guy who was at the center of it all.

        “Who is he?” I asked.

        “Amazing,” Heather remarked.

        “He said who, not what babe,” Heath chuckled.

        “That is Richard Farkas. His family is one of the founding families of Wolf Fang Falls. They are very prestigious and have a lot of pull.” Rachel explained.

        “And he is a total prick,” Gabe added.

        “Let me guess, he preys on the weak?” I asked.

        “Like a wolf going after a wounded deer,” Gabe said.

        “Did he wedgie you?” I asked sympathetically.

        Given the way Gabe looked I was sure he faced his own issues with bullies.

        “Not since fifth grade, but he does get off on putting me down verbally,” he grumbled.

        Looks like I was right about him being a prick. Add money, good looks and popularity and it seems to sour a guys personality. I learned that the hard way.

        “Well, with me walking around I think he will focus on me more. I have a bad history of being a bully magnet. I think it is my masculine good looks that make men feel threatened,” I said with a smirk.

        They all laughed at that, I was about as masculine as a Pomeranian dog. I was a little disappointed though why are all the good looking ones such dicks?

        “His sister isn’t so bad, Elizabeth actually is the only one he listens to and she keeps him in line,” Heather commented.

        “Yeah, she was the one who stopped the wedgies,” Gabe said with a note of gratitude.

        “Which one is she?” I asked.

        “Here she comes now,” Heath said with a tone of awe.

        A girl walked into the cafeteria. She was similar looking to Richard. She had the same tan skin which had been powdered, adding a lightness to it, and her eyes were a honey brown color and shined with a warmth that made you feel at ease. Her hair was down past her shoulders in fabulous waves of glossy black, she was buxom with a slim waist and stood at five foot nine. Her height complemented the aura of grace and respect she had. She was a real looker alright. Her and her brother came from good stock.

        If I was straight or bi, I would be drooling over her like Heath and Gabe though I still appreciated her good looks.

        But she was as different from the other Commune kids as she was as different from us. The other Commune kids dressed in preppy clothes while she dressed in Gothic Victorian.

        She wore a black corset, a matching frock coat and a smooth black skirt which went down to her ankles. She had on a pair of high heel shoes and had painted black nails.

        I saw lots of eyes on her as she walked. Many people seemed more....welcoming of her, whereas they would have liked to avoid the others. No one had said hi to the Commune kids but people were waving at her and smiling which she returned.

        “Isn’t she something?” Gabe asked.

        “She sure is,” Heath said dreamily.

        Their girlfriends elbowed them in the arm.

        “Ow, damn baby,” Heath complained.

        “Pig,” Heather said.

        “Weren’t you just drooling over Richard?” Heath asked.

        “Not as obvious as you,” she said with a blush.

        I had to agree with Gabe. She was something alright. I felt the urge in my fingers shift, I would have loved to get her photo.

        She had it all, poise and good looks and that aura of confidence that could draw a whole crowed.

        Elizabeth sat with the other Commune kids. A bunch of them made a space for her and I saw the same look of respect and awe they gave to Richard focused on her.

        So if Richard was the alpha male, she was the alpha female.

        She stuck out among the preppy looking Commune kids, but she didn’t look any less gorgeous. Despite her clothes, she seemed more serene and at ease, as if she was having such a lovely day. With the Commune kids you felt like you couldn’t approach them because they were so high up the ladder, but with Elizabeth you felt like she was capable of coming down to your level.

        Her sense of style was odd and a little out there. But every small town needs a bit of strange to keep things interesting.

        I looked over at Richard, to see what he was up to. He was very good to look at. Too bad he didn’t swing my way, I wouldn’t mind being the center of his attention.

        I saw he had a curious look on his face, at first I wondered if it had something to do with his sister’s entrance but then I noticed he seemed to be sniffing the air. He closed his eyes and a look of pure ecstasy was on his face, he gave a slight smile and when he opened his eyes they were looking dead at me.

        I gasped as his honey brown eyes landed on me. They were warm like his sister’s and the same color, but there was a quiet fierceness in them. His sister’s eyes were like a warm stove fire. His warmth was like the heat that powered some great machine.

But when his eyes fell on me that heat focused on me. A part of me wanted to look away and not appear to be a weirdo who stared at people. But I could not help but look at him.

        He was so...perfect.

        Suddenly his body became rigid and his mouth opened as if in a gasp. I couldn’t look away, the heat of his gaze was too intense and his reaction to me was too puzzling.

Something passed between us, I don’t know what it was but I felt like a deer caught in the headlights of some oncoming car. I saw something coming for me but I couldn’t move; I was too afraid to.

        But it was a ridiculous idea that I should be afraid. What was there to be afraid of? I had done nothing wrong.

        He stood up suddenly and it caused everyone to look at him funny. Then he practically ran for the door, as he ran past he stared right at me and I fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, which had a hint of anger to it. As if I had done something to offend him.

        Once he left, the cafeteria broke into quiet whispers about what happened and people were looking at me to see what I had done to cause Richard to leave.

        “What the hell was that all about?” Rachel asked.

        “Dude, what did you do to piss him off?” Heath asked.

        “I...I don’t know,” I replied, stunned by what happened.

        Elizabeth left next, her walk was calmer, as if she was in no hurry. She looked at me curiously as she walked by. she knew whatever had caused her brother to run off had something to do with me. She silently examined me as she walked by. Her gaze was neutral neither friendly nor unfriendly. She continued to make a slow exit though it was clear she was following her brother.

        “Did you look at him funny?” Heather asked.

        “I just happened to look at him,” I said.

        “Maybe he assumed you were a girl and thought you were good looking,” Heath teased.

        “Heath!” Heather exclaimed.

        “Err, no offense,” Heath smiled, he rubbed his head looking at me sheepishly.

        “No, it’s okay,” I said with a small laugh. “Actually, it has happened before. Someone thought I was a chick and then realized I was a guy and got all pissy about it,” I admitted.

        There was a time when I let my hair grow out a bit, but it made me look too girly so I always kept it short now. There had been times when a boy thought I was a cute girl, and then he saw I was dressed like a boy and made the realization. And of course being homophobes, they hated me for making them think outside their comfort zone. I tried growing facial hair, but it looked too odd on me; I didn’t have one of those faces that went well with a goatee or a mustache.

        “Shit dude, better be careful,” Gabe warned. “They all think you did something to make him mad.”

        He was looking over at the Commune kids table. They were all watching me. And unlike Elizabeth their expressions were hostile looks that I had to flinch at.

        “Don’t worry, I can help you avoid them,” Gabe said.

        “What do you mean?” I asked.

        “Well...no one messes with the Commune kids. See, they have a rep. They stick together and if anyone crosses them they get their asses kicked,” Heather explained.

        I gulped.

        Great, my first day and I was pissing off the most popular and dangerous group in the school...I hate my life.