Wal-Martyr

Written by MadDogAirPirate
Illustrated by Weaselgrease

"Dad! I didn't think you'd be home."

"Where are your clothes?"

The furrowed brow on his father's face and the piercing tone took all the forced pleasantries away from Weylen. The whole ordeal of acid ruining his clothes and the locker room run-in with Ichitro was already weighing upon the young wolf. He had to think of an answer, quickly.

"Uhhhh."

"Something happen at school you wanna talk about? Some bully take them?"

Weylen's father had long known from his son's middle school days that kids liked to pick on him. Early on his father had gotten involved, but in the last year or so, Weylen just started denying any bullying ever occurred. It made it easier in some ways, and the wolf felt his dad expected him to handle his own problems.

"No, Dad, I got acid on them from science class."

Somehow Weylen just knew, by now. His father saw right through him, knew he wasn't giving him the whole story. But what had always surprised him recently was that when his father did figure it out, he never pressed.

"You're going to earn money to replace those clothes, doing chores this weekend."

"Yes sir."

"Good. My shift's about to start, so if there's anything you need now's the time."

"No, I'm all right."

That was life in Wolf Country. Under Jarvis Wolf's roof, there were strict observances to be kept. As Weylen grew older his father expected him to take responsibility for himself. It's not that his father wouldn't step in if he needed it. Weylen knew he would. But there would be disappointment mixed in that Weylen couldn't handle it himself. So the teen always tried to manage on his own.

Jarvis was a firefighter. He had to work two days of eighteen hour shifts where he stayed at the firehouse. That meant Weylen had a few days a week where he was a latchkey kid. The solitude could be nice, he found, as long as it was only for a few days.

As his father got ready, Weylen settled in to do his homework. He didn't know just when his father left; he was already buried in his history assignment. Hours passed. He'd prepped for every subject for tomorrow, as much as he could. Nothing left but to....

He had no idea how long he'd slept. But as he peered around through his blurred vision, he knew enough that it was light out. Glancing over at the microwave, he realized his horror. It showed 7:36 am. School began at 8. The energy of panic filling him, Weylen made the most of his time, grabbing a shower that lasted a few mere minutes, and with clothes sticking to his body from his rush that didn't really leave him dry, he threw together a few items for lunch.

The bus stop never shaped up to be his favorite destination for the day. His house was fairly far out on a side road that the route didn't reach, so he spent the last few minutes running the half-mile to the stop. The sight of the usual five kids there brought a feel of relief, even as he struggled to catch his breath. Three were in his grade. Two were upperclassmen, and those two usually ignored everyone else.

His hurried jog slowed to a mere trudge. As he approached the stop, Elizabeth, the siamese cat from his gym class, asked, "so, gym class, accident, or happy accident?" She wore a sardonic smile, one that suggested just a bit of delight in rubbing it in. She was rather plain looking, no make-up, and most times, she seemed stoic. That smile made her all the more puzzling now.

"She stood there like a lump in dodgeball. I was trying to dodge." The tone in his voice indicated resignation, one that suggested he expected to be dealing with this problem, but it didn't make it any easier to do so.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Well, Barbie did set herself up for it by being so lost in her own smug cluelessness. Probably was an accident."

Whereas Elizabeth was fairly level-headed, Adenia could be anything but. The lithe jackal made a 'tchk' noise before adding in what she'd been told. "She says you grabbed her boob and she's going to slap the shit out of you the first chance she gets." She wasn't taking delight so much as she was clearly just fishing for details. "So you touched her?" Adenia wore a fairly short mauve skirt and matching skimpy t-shirt. The wolf was pretty sure he'd heard she was a cheerleader, but beyond that, he didn't know. He didn't much want to, as she always seemed to have her nose in someone else's business.

"I-" Weylen started, his first instinct to just tell it as it happened, but saying yes sounded creepy. "I fell on her because she didn't move. There was contact... how could there not be?" The exasperation had already crept into his voice. "Can we talk about something else?"

Guillermo, the large, quiet capybara that lived on a nearby farm, pointed up the road. "Bus is here."

"Shut up, farm boy," Adenia commanded, "we're trying to have a conversation here."

Weylen said nothing, though, as the bus pulled up. "So?" the jackal asked again. Weylen just got onto the bus and took his seat. He was sure he caught her muttering about how boys were so immature before he just tried to tune out of everything as the bus started to move.

"They'll forget about it soon enough."

The large form of Guillermo sat behind him. Weylen just turned his head, nodded with a slight smile, and then went back to tuning out.

Weylen was more than ready to get on with his day. He said nothing to anyone and breathed a sigh of relief when he got to homeroom.

"May I have your attention please." The metallic accompaniment made it clear enough it was the P.A. system. "Will Weylen Wolf please report to Vice Principal Vulpe's office."

And just like that, Weylen tensed up like a fishing line when it had snagged something.

"Dude, what'd you do? Your fur's standing up, you know." The voice of Ben Avery, Mister Track Star, just added to the wolf's tension. The lithe coyote usually seemed to have a way to say the wrong thing with the best of intentions. Weylen self-consciously felt the fur atop his head and neck, confirming that he was pretty freaked out. The coyote pulled down his sports shades and pointed for the door. "Never mind that, get a move on before you get busted even more than you usually are."

Busted? That instantly got his mind working. It must be about gym class. Rhonda probably had filed a complaint about how he'd touched her chest. He thought a few of the students were snickering or muttering about him, but he was so lost in his own dread he didn't have time to be sure.

The wolf peered into the main administrators' lobby from the hallway, and already he caught the eye of the secretary, a spindly lemur probably in her fifties who had a touch of a smirk as she observed the meek student. "Vice Principal Vulpe's office is down the hall, door on the left," she explained, pointing at the hallway with her pen. Weylen nodded mutely and approached the open door.

He'd caught sight of Vulpe once a few days ago, but Weylen didn't know what to make of him yet. The fox looked to be in his forties. He dressed sharply in a suit and tie and wore spectacles that lined his nose just above his moustache. "Weylen Wolf. Have a seat." Vulpe had a neutral tone, which made Weylen all the more anxious. He did as asked, while the fox shut the door to the room.

"I heard that you had a problem yesterday with acid damaging your clothing," he started as he took a seat. The fox smiled just a bit, which did put Weylen a bit more at ease. "I wanted to make sure you were okay, and to ask you a few questions about the incident. As you can imagine, it's pretty troubling as an administrator to find a student subjected to something like that." Weylen nodded. "So, you are okay, right? The acid didn't burn your fur or skin?" The teen shook his head, but glanced down, a bit embarrassed. Vulpe waited for elaboration, but when none materialized, he sighed, the smile broadening a bit. "Well, at least you're all right. Now, let me make clear enough. You're not in trouble here. Not unless you got into the hydrochloric acid yourself, but that seems very unlikely given what your gym teacher Ichitro Bat told me. But in order to get to the bottom of this, I need to know what happened. Mr. Bat will be joining us in a few moments, as will your science teacher, Mr. Dingo."

Weylen nodded again, before he started to explain about how he didn't know a thing about the acid until he'd showed up to serve detention with Coach Ichitro. He continued, "Coach Ichitro told me to take off my shirt, I guess because he saw the acid. He started pulling off my clothes-" Weylen explained, before Vulpe interrupted.

"Wait, wait. Coach Ichitro started pulling off your clothes?"

Weylen felt horribly awkward. He knew he was blushing so fiercely that it must have showed right through his fur. "They had acid on them," Weylen murmured.

Vulpe nodded. "Which items of clothing had acid on them?"

"My hooded jacket, my shirt, my pants, sir."

Vulpe seemed to absorb this, looking Weylen over closely. Weylen wondered if he was trying to tell if he was lying, because his gaze was pretty intense, as if searching for something. After about thirty seconds of silence, Vulpe finally broke it by asking, "so you ended up in your underwear?"

Weylen agonized over how he was going to answer that. The door to the office opened, though, sparing him from doing so, and Ichitro walked in, along with Darwyn, his science teacher, who shut the door behind him.

"Gentlemen, have a seat please." He gestured to two seats that were positioned on the sides of the office, facing toward the desk so that it the four seated made a diamond, with the two teachers facing at each other. Ichitro grabbed the seat to the left of Weylen, and Darwyn grabbed the one on the right. "So far," Vulpe started, "Weylen has clued me in that you supposedly spotted the acid on Weylen's clothing and helped him remove it. With or without the student's permission?" he asked the coach, looking at him.

Ichitro raised an eyebrow. "Acid burning skin doesn't wait for permission," he remarked, as much acid in his tone as may have been on Weylen's clothes the day before.

The vice principal eyed Weylen again. "Did Coach Ichitro's actions bother you?" Weylen instantly felt the eyes of all three upon him as he struggled to give his reply. It took a deep breath before he could murmur, "at first, a- a little bit, because I didn't know what was going on."

Vulpe nodded, the more pleasant demeanor starting to melt away. "I thought as much," he intoned, but Weylen found the strength to add to what he said.

"But he did it to get the acid off me so I didn't get hurt. I understand. Actually I'm grateful, I could have gotten hurt."

Vulpe's harsher edge that was creeping in faded, instantly, with that. "That's very good to hear, Weylen, and very mature of you. I would hate to have had a problem arise from such an incident," he remarked, glowering at Ichitro with damning eyes even as he wore a slight smile to comfort the wolf student. "So that's one problem out of the way. The bigger one, though, is how acid got on your clothes in the first place. Hydrochloric acid can be harmful when undiluted, and more importantly, it's supposed to be locked away and looked after. Did your class require the use of H-C-L?" the fox queried Darwyn, the pressure in the room quickly shifting so that it was against the science teacher.

Darwyn shook his head. "No, we just did experiments to practice the scientific method, and the acid was not one of the choices. Just table salt, rock salt, dirt... no acid."

"Then we have a mystery on our hands. Is there any chance that Mr. Bat procured the acid and put on your clothes, Weylen, do you think? Mr. Bat has a hist-" Vulpe started before a very curt interruption from a pissed coach.

"Now just a damned minute. You're accusing me of putting acid on his clothes, are you that clueless?"

"Not accusing," Vulpe clarified, though the cautious tone suggested a bit of backpedalling. "We just have to look at all possibilities for how it could hap-"

"It didn't happen that way," the coach belted out.

There was a creak as the door to the office opened up, causing all four to glance over as it revealed a completely wide-eyed, shocked coach's assistant. The weasel peered over to the left of him at the hand that had pushed the door open. It was the lemur secretary's hand, as she spoke at an elevated volume just short of shouting. "Perhaps you'd like to go in instead of just waiting right outside the door, Mr. Weasel."

With a nervous chuckle, the assistant turned his head to address the secretary. "Why yes, thank you, Ms. Edwards."

"Glad to help," she countered cheerfully. "You seemed to be having trouble figuring out how to open the door."

"I just didn't want to interrupt," the weasel returned a bit indignantly before he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. Eyes still on him, the weasel kept going in an effort to maintain dignity. "Anyway, it's a good time to point out that Coach Ichitro couldn't have put the acid on Weylen. For one he didn't have access to it. He would've had to enter Mr. Dingo's classroom while it was unlocked. And it would have taken at least fifteen minutes for undiluted H-C-L to eat through clothing. Isn't that about right, Darwyn?" The science teacher, upon hearing his name, nodded.

"And when did this incident happen, Weylen, how long after you met with Ichitro for detention?"

Weylen thought about it. "I'd say less than five minutes after I got there."

Vulpe nodded. "Very well, I'm just covering all the bases."

Ichitro grunted. "Yeah, yeah, I still resent it, but that base is covered."

"At any rate," the vice principal redirected, "that means it likely came from your science class. Any idea who might have done it, Mr. Dingo?"

The dingo shrugged. "I don't want to accuse anyone without knowing, but I assigned Riley Marse to work with him that period."

The fox nodded, and got up, walked over to the door, and called out after opening it. "Ms. Edwards, summon Riley Marse here please." With the door shut again, Vulpe once more took his seat. "No matter what, you left the acid unattended, Darwyn, and I'll be holding you responsible however this turns out. For now it's going to be a note in your evaluation, nothing more, but any repeat, and this will become a disciplinary issue. This incident destroyed Weylen's clothes."

Darwyn nodded. "I understand, and I feel responsible for that. That's why I'll be paying for the replacement clothing, with your permission."

Vulpe drummed his fingers on his desk while he thought for a moment. "Sounds like fair recompense. If we find out this Marse did it, though, I'll have him pay instead."

Darwyn shook his head. "I insist. Whether he did or not, if I hadn't left the chemical cabinet open, I suspect it wouldn't have happened."

Weylen thus far felt more like an observer than anything, just watching the consequences of yesterday's incident unfurl all around him. If anything he found himself grateful he wasn't being blamed somehow. That fear crept up on him again when there was a knock at the door, and Riley, the larger kangaroo student he'd had the locker room incident with, walked in.

"Riley, we're out of chairs in here so I'll be brief. Weylen here had an incident yesterday involving some acid on his clothes. Any idea how that might have happened?" Vulpe questioned directly.

Riley, though, if he was guilty, gave no indication. "Can't say I do. We were workin' with some stuff in science class-" he began to explain.

"Yes," Darwyn interrupted, "but none involved hydrochloric acid, which is what burned his clothes. You don't know anything about that?"

"Nothin'," Riley parroted. "Course, coulda been some mistake, mixed up vials or something. Accidents happen sometimes... right Weylen?" he asked, and with the glare, even with the masking smile, the wolf was pretty sure he knew. Riley had done it. He just couldn't prove it.

"... Yeah. Accidents happen. Was probably an accident."

Vulpe sighed at Weylen's response. "Well, there's nothing more I can do here. You two are dismissed, go right to first period, the bell's already rung." Weylen and Riley got up, but Weylen waited for Riley to take his leave first, and he made sure to give some distance before heading out, all while the teachers and vice principal continued to talk about the incident.

Once he was out in the hall though, he noticed Riley turn around. The larger kangaroo leaned against the nearby lockers with one hand. "You finger me for that?" he demanded menacingly. Weylen shrunk back, but shook his head. "The teachers suggested it," he explained.

Riley grunted in response to that. "That better be it. Because accidents do happen, mate. ... I'm expectin' we ain't gonna have any more with each other. You want something, you tell me."

That left Weylen a mixture of confused and concerned. "You mean like asking you to get off my shorts?"

Riley looked flustered for a second, losing his composure, anger flaring up. "Get yer own shorts off! Fuckin' gay." He turned and started walking off, but Riley did glance back a couple of times, his face a seeming mixture of frustration and disbelief.

That response left Weylen no less puzzled.

Math class had already begun, and he'd settled into it pretty well at the end of the first week. Mr. Harris was... like no teacher he'd ever had. The hare always seemed like he'd had about six cups of coffee too many, and if Weylen didn't know better, he'd have sworn that the teacher had ADD. Eyes always darting around, it suggested his visual focus was constantly changing. Mentally, though, he was focused on the lesson.

Second period for the wolf meant sex ed, and Friday was the only day of the week he had it. As he stepped in, he realized that as he'd feared, just about everyone from his gym class yesterday was in it. Weylen made sure to grab a desk up front and on the side... hopefully to avoid as much attention as possible. He noticed Rhonda enter, and she clearly shot a glance his way. He didn't take time to learn how friendly or hostile that look was. He turned away until the fox had taken her seat on the other side of the room, in the far back. With that whole breast-contact incident, he was glad to have her far away. Riley, on the other hand, entered and sat just two rows behind Weylen. Somehow, even though he didn't sit directly behind him, just having him back there made Weyen a little uneasy.

The other fun fact about that class that left him no less tense, even though he knew about it, was the teacher. Coach Ichitro also taught sex ed. Much like with gym, when he entered carrying only a clipboard, he had the weasel assistant with him. As soon as the bell rang, Ichitro set the clipboard down. "We're gonna get right to it," he began.

"Sex. Whether you have it now, whether you have it later, even if you decide you're never gonna have it, it's gonna be a big part of your teen and adult lives. And there may be a problem or two talking about it with you. Penises," Ichitro started, immediately scanning, and sure enough, a few of the students glanced at each other, and two even started snickering, one of them Riley. And Ichitro picked right up on it. "You." He pointed at Riley, clearly startling him. "Your dick funny to you?"

Riley seemed stunned. "No. Just hearin' a teacher say it."

"Excuse me," Rhonda piped up with a haughty tone. "You can't say dick."

Ichitro leaned forward on the teacher's desk in front of him. "Oh, I can. Dick. Cock. Snatch. Cunt." With each word the murmurs seemed to grow louder and the attention fell off the coach as the students expressed disbelief at what he said. Even Weylen was pretty surprised, though he kept his eyes up front.

"See, I knew going to any class where you teach would be a mistake," Rhonda sent back in what contained more mock outrage than actual fury. Even Elizabeth, the Siamese cat honor student, agreed. "Come on coach, cunt is a very offensive term."

"Some other words you all know for penises and vaginas. Come on," Ichitro barked, almost in a mixture of a challenge and an encouragement.

"Rod."

"Shaft!"

"Boner!"

Somehow the boys were more vocal than the girls, and it did bring about more laughter. Ichitro explained, "Good enough for now. You wanna laugh at the words for your own body parts, feel free. If you feel uncomfortable talking about it, you're probably not alone. And the words you use can have entirely different meanings about the same thing. Penis, more proper, more scientific. Cock, dick, dirtier terms. Cunt... doubles as a really offensive term to a lot of women, some men too."

"The point," Ichitro continued, "is that first we're gonna own that talking about sex can be uncomfortable. And the second point," he added with a pause, "is that I don't give a shit. It's my job to make sure you know about sex. It's a complex subject. Who here's had it?"

Immediately the weasel assistant spoke up, "You don't have to answer that!" And the few hands that started to go up went back down. One was Riley's, three others belonged to boys.

Ichitro didn't miss a beat. "Four guys had sex, but no girls. So, is it that they're gay?"

"Hey!" The rat Weylen remembered from gym class snapped at that. "No one said that!"

Ichitro grinned. "I know. But it reveals something important. Guys are often a bit more vocal about the concept they had sex than girls are. Whether it's true or not. There's a double standard, there. Guys having sex with lots of people, they're studs, right? ... And girls? Sluts."

"Now hold on a minute!" one of the girls snapped.

"And it's not fair," he continued. "Doesn't mean it doesn't happen. I'm not gonna tiptoe around this stuff," he explained, somewhat redundantly. "But the consequences of sex... they're social, they're interpersonal, they're biological, they're emotional. ... Who here thinks sex and love are related, raise your hand."

Nearly half of the hands in the class went up. "You're right. Now, who thinks sex and love aren't related?" Almost half of the hands went up again, most of them different. "You're right, too." Weylen had kept his down. He had paid attention, but the less focus upon him, the better.

"People interweave them. People keep them totally separate. People say they're going to keep them seperate but interweave them anyway. People believe they're interwoven just because it feels so good, it's gotta be love, but love itself, ain't there."

Nothing but silence met Ichitro in response.

"Sex is the simplest and most complicated thing you'll ever do or not do."

Much of the class was Ichitro going into the repercussions of sex, and Weylen found himself interested in it. He also started to relax again. Somehow, being in Coach Ichitro's class made him feel comfortable. The bell rang, and it almost jolted him out of a daze. He really didn't want to head out. The students packed up their belongings and left, and it took Weylen a bit longer. He casted a glance at the coach on his way out, who seemed to notice. Despite the mild smile, Ichitro pointed out the door. "Get yer ass movin' or you're gonna be late." Weylen nodded almost a bit absently and headed out.

He managed to make it to Mr. Tomar's class before the bell rang, though. History was one of his favorite subjects. Tomar wasn't there yet, though, and as he sat down, he could hear two of the girls in the classroom talking about the teacher.

"He's so weird," whispered Adenia, the jackal who'd accosted him at the bus stop that morning. "What the hell is with that moustache?"

"It's called a Fu Manchu.," explained Elizabeth.

"So, Manchu, was he like some famous history guy?"

"Nah, he wasn't even real, he was some fictional character, some genius villain," she told Adenia, right when Mr. Tomar walked in.

"Goooood morning, class!" The rat was only a little taller than Weylen, and definitely shorter than some of the students. Dressed in a business-casual jacket and tie, he gave the impression he was in his forties. He was carrying his usual briefcase about with him, and he set it on the table before speaking again. "I have the result of your first history test, and we'll go over them in a moment. We had four A's, six B's, two C's, four D's, and five F's. A good bunch of you doing well... and a good handful doing miserably." Despite this speech, Mr. Tomar's speech was rather measured and charming.

One of the girls in class raised her hand, and Mr. Tomar nodded in her direction. "Yes, Yasmin?" She wore a dress that looked much too expensive and showy for schoolware, one that gave the indication she came from money.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tomar, I didn't think the test was fair. It asked us questions on material we never discussed in class."

With an almost amused grin, Mr. Tomar leaned over his desk. "I did say the test was on the first and second chapters. That's what it was on, so, yes, it did include material I did not discuss in class. It was still in your assigned reading. You'd best note this now as that will happen a good bit when you get to college. You're given lots of reading and you're expected to learn from it."

"But we're not in college," Yasmin protested.

"And with that attitude you never will be." Mr. Tomar started passing back tests, and Weylen tensed up as Tomar handed him his. Tomar had been smiling, but with his smiles, you never knew if it was good or bad. At sight of the A-, Weylen sighed in relief.

"Now," Tomar bellowed loudly to get everyone's attention before he dropped into a quieter tone, "this happens every year I teach, the first test. Half the class does well, because they do their assigned reading. And half the class fails. I do it on purpose. I'll tell you right now, too, this is my easiest test. They get harder. So read the material, or fail." He grinned as he pulled at one of the ends of his moustache before looking over the class. "Not that I mind. The half of you that do work prove well enough that the tests cover the material and will stave off any attempts to claim that somehow it's my doing that causes the other half of you to fail."

He turned back to the board. "And just so that you know who to blame," he remarked, "here are the A's and B's."

Weylen didn't care for attention, and he really didn't like the way Mr. Tomar seemed to be pitting the students against each other. But there went Weylen's name, along with Elizabeth, Pi, and Cogni. Pi and Cogni were two of the three weasels in the class, and both he and she were unphased by the attention. The B's listed as Jin, Ace, Leonard, Ben, Delilah, and Francis. Jin appeared to be this small Asian mouse that presented as really bright. Ace was another weasel, and Weylen began to notice that there were a lot of weasels in his level three college prep classes. Leonard was the loon who looked to be a bit of a bookworm, and about the lupine's size. The gecko Delilah dressed in black and green in goth clothing, and she seemed sour about the unwarranted attention as well. Francis was this well-dressed snooty rat that sat up front.

"Now," Tomar continued, "That also means you all know who didn't do well on the tests... though I wouldn't dream of singling you out any further." He remarked, "but I'm telling you now, we are going to have a quiz. On Monday. About the material we cover today as well as the material I assign you to read this weekend."

Lunch provided a good break after all that unwanted attention. So Weylen thought. As he ate, a raccoon plunked himself down next to him. "So... an A on that history test, huh? Tomar like you, or did you study?"

Weylen stopped in the middle of chewing and set his sandwich down, peering over at the raccoon, but not saying anything as his mouth was full.

"Of course you studied," the raccoon said, a bit of mocking going into the tone of that statement. "Listen, you know the rumors on Tomar. Kids seem like they're failing his class, but by the end of the year most get A's and B's. He says it's the way he teaches, but we know that's bull, right? People say he's a dealmaker. He ups your grade if you do a little something for him. ... So fill me in, what'd he want you to do for him?"

Weylen just stared blankly as he finished up the bite of food. After he swallowed, he finally asked incredulously, "what are you talking about? I read the chapters."

"Name's Jasper," the raccoon diverted. "I was thinking maybe on the quiz Monday, you could give me the answers. I sit right behind you, so it'd be easy."

Weylen scowled almost unconsciously, hating the idea but also knowing that it would be hard to tell him no. "It's not hard, it's just one chapter."

Jasper turned so that he faced away from the lunchtable, and he leaned backward against it as he inclined his head back toward Weylen. "Was worth a shot. No hard feelings... Weylen, right? You're a smart kid. I'll find another way. Anyway, you wouldn't wanna go to a party this Saturday? I'm gonna throw one. Just bring a snack of some kind, bring some beer or something if you want it cause I won't have any. Everyone'd probably love you if you did. You don't even have to drink if you don't do that kinda thing. Not sure if you do. Anyway, six, my place. 418 Willow Court, it's down the road half a mile from the school, real easy to find." He sprung up as easily as he plunked himself down. "I'll see ya there."

Weylen had never agreed to go, and by then he was pretty sure he wouldn't. He just went back to eating.

The rest of the day flew by pretty easily. English just involved Ms. Hawkins going over To Kill a Mockingbird. The fairly young hawk was pushing her students to get through it quickly as she aimed to have a test the following Monday. That made two for Weylen.

Shop class shaped up to be an interesting experience. It was only his second day in Whittaker Bruin's class, and much like the first, it felt like the students were spending more time gossiping about their teacher than working on the birdhouses they were supposed to be designing. It wasn't surprising, given the sheer size of Whittaker. He easily stood eight feet tall, large even for a bear, and fairly hefty to boot, as he carried a bit of a gut in addition to his fairly muscular frame.

"Wit-taker. They call him that because either you do your work or he beats you senseless." Troy inclined to think he sounded brilliant for that, the suave young fox leaning in as he talked with his friend Ben. "I don't even know how he's allowed to teach at school with those restraining orders."

Ben just tilted his sunglasses down and smirked derisively at Troy. "You don't really believe that crap, do you? That's just rumor mill." The coyote clasped him on the back. "My dad's a cop, remember? Nothing's ever happened with this guy."

Troy shook his head. "Maybe the restraining orders part's a rumor, but what about the one that this guy ate Kevin Burroughs? Kid three years ago, right, gave him a hard time, keyed some car he was working on for shop, got in his face, said there was nothing he could do about it. Then the kid disappeared, cause this guy ate him."

Ben couldn't help but laugh. "So how is it people know about the kid getting in his face, someone see this happening? C'mon, Kevin probably moved away or got homeschooled or something."

"That's what they want you to think."

Ben elbowed Troy. "Those are just those horror stories you hear from those mice you live with. One of the downsides of living with 'em. Your foster parents are probably just trying to scare you."

"Gentlemen."

Weylen was sitting across the aisle as his own table, but even he jumped when he heard Whittaker's deep voice. He peered over, but once the bear glanced his way, he went right back to constructing his birdhouse.

"It's been ten minutes, and I don't see any progress on either of your birdhouses. So if you don't want an F for the day, I suggest you get to constructing." The bear put his hand down on Troy's work table and leaned down a bit. "Before I get any grumpier."

After that, the two became much more interested in working, and so did Weylen.

When the bell rang, Weylen found himself both happy to be heading to science class as well as a bit concerned. The whole incident with the acid most likely had started there. Riley had probably done it, but even then, Weylen couldn't be entirely sure. The thoughts around the incident plagued him on the way to class.

Darwyn smiled in greeting as soon as he arrived. Darwyn seemed like one of his youngest teachers. The teen figured him to be in his late twenties or early thirties. "Weylen, good to see you. After we're done here, I was thinking I could take you to the store. If that's okay," the dingo suggested in hushed tones as other students filed in for the class.

Weylen shrugged, glancing down in response. "I don't know, Mr. Dingo-" he started.

"Call me Darwyn," the dingo instructed.

"Uhh... I don't know. I should check with my dad first."

"Oh come now, Weylen. This was my fault."

"Not unless you put the acid there," Weylen deflected politely.

"No, I don't mean like that, but I mean... I left it out. The least I could do is pay to replace your clothes, and I'd like to get that done as soon as possible. Besides, I could show the school here the receipts and I think they might view me a little more favorably for that faux pas."

"Faux pas?" the teen asked, unfamiliar with that term.

"Sorry. Mistake, on my part."

Weylen nodded. "Okay. It's really nice of you, Mr. Dingo."

Darwyn chuckled. "So formal. ... How 'bout calling Mr. D, at least?"

Weylen smiled, just a little. "Yeah. Okay."

The bell rang, and Weylen went to take his seat. Today's class fortunately didn't require a lab, so he just absorbed himself in the lecture.

When the class ended, the other students started to file out of the classroom. Weylen packed up his belongings, as did his teacher. "Well, let's get going. Shouldn't take too long." The wolf agreed with a smile, and let Darwyn lead him out of the classroom. Before he knew it, Weylen found himself in the parking lot, wondering which car belonged to his science teacher.

Then a voice sounded from behind him that had become fairly familiar. "Hey, wolf. Where're you heading?" He turned to see Coach Ichitro standing there at the edge of the lot with his arms folded.

Darwyn was only a few steps ahead of him. He turned at the question and answered for Weylen. "Ah! Coach Ichitro! I was about to take him to the store for clothes to replace the damaged ones."

Ichitro nodded, scratching at the back of his head as he looked down for a second. "So his folks are cool with it?"

Weylen shook his head. "My dad's not home tonight, but he wanted me to replace those clothes."

Ichitro grinned a little. "Think I got it. Well, I'll go with you."

Darwyn ended up a bit put out by that idea. "Don't- don't you have a game, a team to coach, today?"

Ichitro threw up his hands. "Nope, all free. Besides. I know what the damaged items of clothing were. Do you?"

Darwyn pointed toward Weylen. "He does. So we're all set, you don't need to come."

"And yet I think I will anyway. Either I can go in yours or I'll take mine."

Darwyn thumbed out into the parking lot. "Then yours it is."

Weylen continued on with Darwyn to his vehicle. He didn't know why, but he expected it to be some unusual car. It just ended up being a mid-sized blue sedan. Weylen climbed in, feeling a bit odd that he was going off somewhere in a teacher's car. He wondered if his Dad would have had a fit about it. Weylen, however, shrugged that off, telling himself that his dad would want him to handle this like an adult, himself, and that's what he was doing.

Darwyn strapped himself in and glanced over to make sure Weylen had strapped himself in as well. The car pulled out and started toward the downtown of Cherrybrook. Weylen caught a glimpse of a pickup truck following behind them, sure enough, with Ichitro in the driver's seat.

Only after they'd gotten well into the downtown did Weylen realize they were not heading where he'd expected them to go. "Wait, this isn't the way to All-Mart," Weylen interjected into the silence of the trip.

Darwyn glanced over. "Oh, I'm not heading there. We're going to Canid Comforts. Nicer clothes for guys like us."

Weylen protested, "It's really nice of you and all, but those... cost more, don't they? I don't know if my dad would... it would probably be better if I just got clothes from All-Mart."

"Well, the thing is, this is my fault that your clothes got ruined, like I said. Let's just see what they have when we get there. Sound okay to you?"

It didn't really, but Weylen nodded in acquiescence.

Darwyn reached the lot of the store and parked. As he and Weylen got out of the car, the truck pulled in next to them, Ichitro's clear profile sitting in the driver's seat. As the bat got out, Darwyn immediately commented, "You don't really need to do this."

Ichitro shrugged. "Tell you what. You get what clothes you want. But when you're done here, I'll take him home. That get me off your back enough?"

The tension between the two hit Weylen only then. It only served to make him feel awkward. Darwyn replied, "That'll be fine. ... Though I really can drive him home."

"I live closer," the bat contested tersely.

Darwyn furrowed his brow. "Now how would you know that?"

"You know, I could always go in there and just hover over you while you do this shopping."

"Fine, fine." The dingo headed into the store, though Weylen had already started in well ahead of him.

The department store had much more of that upscale mall atmosphere. That felt unfamiliar to Weylen, and that kept him from advancing any further into the store. Darwyn put his arm around Weylen's shoulder, something that immediately caused him to pull away abruptly in response, until he realized who had done so. Still, Weylen didn't reject the gesture, awkward though it made him feel.

The two made their way over to the young men's apparel. Darwyn wasted no time in making suggestions for clothing choices. "You lost a hoodie, right? So one of those. Why don't you pick out what color suits you best?" Weylen was about to, but Darwyn interjected, "that's probably blue, right? That was your old one's. I remember."

Weylen admitted, "Yeah, it was blue." Darwyn picked out a hoodie and held it up to show the wolf. It featured a wolf- actually more a werewolf, howling at the moon, with the caption underneath, 'Naturally speaking'.

Weylen knew that kind of hoodie would be something his dad would like... except for the price. "I'm not sure."

Darwyn shoved the hoodie into his hands. "Oh, just try it on. What else did you lose? Shirt, shorts... underwear, right?"

Weylen did put the hoodie on, and it fit him pretty well. Not to mention, he liked the material. "Well, the shirt and pants, yeah. But I didn't lose my underwear."

Darwyn nodded. "... But you really could have. They've got some really nice themed underwear they sell in this place. I'll spring for them."

Weylen found a black shirt and blue jeans that suited him. "Okay, I guess that will do it," the teen remarked a bit evasively.

"We need to make sure these fit. Dressing room's right over there," Darwyn indicated. "And these would work really well." Darwyn put up a pair of black silk briefs with a faded sheen mixed in that showed wolf pawprints.

Weylen just stared at the briefs that now rested atop the other clothes items. "I don't need those, really."

Darwyn shrugged. "My treat. See how they look on you." He sounded very nonchalant.

Weylen started toward the dressing room, but stopped and peered back at Darwyn. "Are you sure they'll let me try these on?"

"Of course they will. You'll be buying them after all. Just makes sense to make sure they fit right." Darwyn made a gesture with his hand to wave Weylen toward the dressing room.

looking at the items in his arms. He didn't even try them on for the first minute, figuring he would just claim they fit, and that would be that.

The door to the dressing room appeared to only cover most of the doorway. It remained possible to look in over the top, and Darwyn seemed to have no qualms doing so. "How're you doing in there?"

Startled, Weylen jolted up and dropped the clothes he'd held. "I'm okay."

"Did you try them on?"

Somehow, Weylen couldn't bring himself to lie. "Not yet."

"So what are you waiting for?"

Darwyn just remained there, glancing down at his student. It felt weird, but the scrawny wolf found difficulty in asking for privacy. Coach Ichitro saw him in his underwear, he rationalized. Removing his shirt first, Weylen then took a seat on the dressing room bench. The lupine glanced back up at Darwyn, the dingo remaining wide-eyed and undeterred. Weylen just looked down, unfastened his shorts, and started to slide them downward. They hit the floor of the dressing room. He just remained there like that for a moment.

"The underwear makes sense first," Darwyn suggested.

Weylen picked up the underwear and started to slip it on one leg. "No, no," Darwyn chided. "Can't tell how comfortable it is if you put it over your first pair." He could sense Weylen's hesitation. "... You said Coach Ichitro saw you naked, right? And that was with him pulling your clothes off you. This is nothing."

Weylen parsed through that reasoning. Darwyn was a lot less aggressive as well. The dingo had offered to replace his clothes, so he shouldn't feel strange about it. So he told himself.

The wolf took his underwear and pulled it off so that he was sitting there naked. Darwyn had quite a view of his sheath from his angle. The dingo said nothing, though. Weylen took the briefs and slid into them, standing up to pull those up.

"So... how do they feel?" the teacher asked.

"Nice," Weylen admitted immediately. "Really soft."

"They're yours. Least I can do. I feel responsible."

Weylen tried the jeans next, fastening them and looking up at Darwyn. Each remaining item he found easier to try on. Then, decked out in the new hoodie, shirt, pants, and underwear, he stepped out. Darwyn observed him as he walked around in the new clothes.

"Now those look really nice! So they the ones?"

Weylen shrugged. "I like them, but they're still expen-"

"Not a word on the price. It's my job to find suitable clothes to replace the ones lost and I'm glad to do it."

Weylen went back into the dressing room to change into his usual clothes. Once that was done, he and Darwyn walked to the registers, and the dingo paid for the items. The total came to nearly $100, a figure which made Weylen balk internally again. Darwyn thought nothing of it, and soon the items were bagged and placed in Weylen's hand.

"Well, there you go!" Darwyn chimed cheerily as they headed out. He clasped Weylen on the shoulder. "And please accept my sincerest apologies for what happened."

Once the glare from the sun met them outside, Weylen noted Ichitro was standing there. "He got his clothes?" the coach asked.

The grip on Weylen's shoulder tightened a bit as Darwyn answered. "He's all set. I can take him home."

Ichitro shook his head. "You did what you were supposed to do. I'll take him. Come on, Weylen."

Weylen pulled out of the grip and turned to wave goodbye. "Thank you, Mr. D."

Darwyn nodded, a bit of disappointment in his voice as he turned to leave. "You're welcome, Weylen." After a few seconds, his voice sounded out again, "I'm expecting to see you wearing every thread on Monday!"

The canine headed around to the passenger's side of Ichitro's truck and climbed in. Ichitro joined him and peeked over toward the bag. "Yer science teacher get you some fancy threads?"

Weylen held open the bag, almost obediently. "Yeah," he affirmed.

Ichitro scanned the items and spied the briefs. "Silk? Damn. I'd be worried those would give me a woody, they feel so nice. ... Let's get you home. ... So where do you live, anyway?"

That puzzled Weylen. "Thought you said you were closer. You didn't know where I lived?"

Ichitro shrugged noncommittally. "He already bought you the clothes, no sense troubling him further having him bring you home, if I'm available to do it."

Weylen detailed, "I'm at 3657 Waymanville Road. You know where that is?"

Ichitro chuckled. "That's a good name for a place out in the sticks. Yeah I know where it is." He pulled out of the parking spot, and began his journey back toward Weylen's place.

Weylen maintained silence for the first several minutes of the trip, but he got to thinking about the class with Ichitro earlier that day. "Hey Coach, you said sex was really important and you had to be careful how you did it. So how do you know when's the right time?"

Ichitro gazed over at Weylen briefly. "You thinking about doing it already?"

Weylen admitted, "I'm... I don't know. I guess I'm more worried about doing it wrong, or too soon. You were talking about all those consequences that could happen."

The bat glanced up at his rear-view mirror as he answered. "Time's not really a good way to tell. You're ready when you're comfortable. And a lot of it has to do with who you do it with, why you're doing it." Silence filled the truck cabin for a moment before he continued. "Sex isn't something to fear, it's just something to respect. Done right, it can make a real man out of you."

Weylen cast his eyes into the shopping bag almost as if he expected to find some sort of answer written in there. "I'm not sure what kind of person I should be looking for. A girl? ... Does it have to be a girl? Should it be a wolf? And how far do I go, if I decide I want to? How do I know if I have an STD, maybe I picked one up somewhere and I don't know-"

"Woah, slow down. Have you had sex before?"

Weylen's voice sounded small, quiet. "No."

"Then chances are really, really good you don't have an STD. Not unless you do drugs and share needles, and you don't look the type. Anyway, most important things are making sure your partner's clean and that you'll both enjoy the experience, won't read anything into it more than the other wants. That whole thing I said earlier. Sometimes people really fall for someone or think they do because they had a real good fuck."

Ichitro turned onto the road that led toward Weylen's house. "Thing is," Ichitro went on, "it's good to do it with someone you trust. Trust that's gonna last even after it's over. Someone you wanna share yourself with. ... That house up on the right, that it?"

Weylen checked out the window. "Yeah, that's my house."

The bat pulled into the driveway, meandering up the length of it until he neared the house. The truck came to a stop, and Ichitro put it in park. Weylen didn't get out right away. "I just wanna be sure I get it right," the wolf revealed.

Ichitro nodded. After a moment, he turned the key to his truck, silencing the engine. "Helps to have the opportunity to learn." He unfastened his seat belt, leaving Weylen to wonder if he'd planned to come inside the house. Ichitro reached down and undid the clasp to his trousers. As he heard the whirr of the bat's zipper being pulled, Weylen realized what he was doing. He said nothing, though, only glanced over as the bat adjusted himself, sliding his underwear down so that he could lay the tip of his cock to poke out from his trousers. It was the same tip he'd seen projecting out from his sheath before, but there was one major difference. Weylen was sure he saw it move.

"You can touch it if you want to. If you're ready."

Weylen's eyes locked right on it the same as before, but he could only bring himself to stammer at the unexpected turn of events, "I umm-...Wh-"

"Or you're free to go inside whenever you want. Up to you." Ichitro interjected.

With the option to escape the situation, the major awkwardness dissipated almost immediately for Weylen, allowing him to consider it more carefully. "Are...." He had to pause, but went on. "Are you clean?"

The bat grinned. "Well, you've got an A so far."