Date: Wed, 11 Jan 2012 14:48:57 -0500
From: Derrick Chase <pessimistsandoptimists@gmail.com>
Subject: A Pessimist's Guide to Optimism-2

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to real life
events or people are purely coincidental. This story is about love and lust
and loss, the three most entertaining things in the world! When deemed
necessary, there will be sex. If you are offended by sex, why are you on
this website? Get out now. If you are underage and reading this... Well,
there's worse stuff you could be doing illegally; you should still hit
escape though!!! Rebellious delinquents...

Chapter 2 JAMES

   Sometimes I wonder why I do it. Why throw a goddamn party that lasts one
night, but then takes a whole weekend to clean up? I looked over at Clara
George, passed out next to me; her left tit had slipped out of her bra. Oh
yeah, that's why.

   My name is James Griffin and I'm kind of a big deal. Well, not
really. People make me out to be a bigger deal than I really am. In reality
I'm a total nerd, but because I know how to throw crazy parties, everyone
thinks I'm cool and popular and all that other shit. The only reason I can
throw such insane parties is because I have parents that think they're
timeshares all around the world are more important that, you know, a
living, breathing son. Anyways, enough musing, I have an entire house to
clean; what fun.

   My room was a wreck, and as I got out of bed, I mentally prepared myself
for the state of the rest the house. I couldn't even open the door of my
room without knocking over the beer cans people had left on the floor. I
walked past the bathroom and nearly vomited at the smell of all the puke. I
guess brushing my teeth would have to wait until later.

   It was eight-o-clock when I 'got up.' I hadn't really slept. I got a
nice blow job from Clara before closing my eyes for a few minutes. I
wouldn't call three hours of eye closing 'sleep.' Everyone had mostly left
at 4:30 and the drunks who stayed past then just slept over. I made my way
to the virtually demolished living room. Bobby Carrie was passed out on my
couch, Sarah White and Stephanie Mercy were curled up on the floor, and
although I saw my best friend Ryan's car, I didn't see any sign of him. I
went over to my sound system and cranked "I'm Sexy and I Know It" to max
volume. I let it play for about a minute and then shouted,

"Unless you plan on helping me clean this shithole up--"

"NO SHOES NO SHIRT AND I STILL GET SERVICE WAH"

"-- It's time to get your hungover asses into your cars--"

"GIRL LOOK AT THAT BODY... I-I-I WORK OUT"

"-- and get the fuck home."

"I'M SEXY AND I KNOW IT"

   The music continued to play as people sluggishly made their way to the
exit. Some thanked me for the party, some were still to drunk to say a
word, and others shot me dirty looks as they plugged their ears. Clara gave
me a wet kiss before getting in her car. I still hadn't seen Ryan,
though. I turned the music off.

"Ry, are you hear?"

   Nothing... Maybe he got a girl to take him home. Doubtful, but maybe he
finally grew a pair. I smiled at the thought. It's not that I don't think
Ryan has it in him to be good with the ladies, he's just not motivated, I
guess. I mean he's a good looking guy. He's actually pretty hot. I mean, no
homo. I've told him a few times that I think he looks better than me. He
thinks I'm kidding, but I'm really not. I thinks its his hair. He's got the
softest blonde hair... Oh! and his eyes of course. Mine are just boring
brown, but I don't even know what shade of blue his are. Anyways, he'll
have to turn up at some point; his car is still here.

   The process of cleaning a house after a house-party is unpleasant to say
the least. Actually, it's really fucking shitty, I fucking hate cleaning. I
actually don't know what I hate more: cleaning or seeing things dirty. I'm
not sure if that's some kind of mental disability-- like fear of a mess
phobia or something-- but cleaning up after a party is hell for a person
like me. Every time I finally get a small corner of my house clean, I turn
around and the living room is staring at me like, "I'm dirty as fuck and
I'm gonna eat you NOM NOM NOM.” Like I said, disability...

   I started with the kitchen because it was the dirtiest. People tend to
flock to where there's food. It's very animalistic if you ask me. Like
hippos and elephants indolently making their way down to the river... Where
they are ripped to shreds by lions and tigers and bears, oh-fucking-my. My
fridge was cleared out as well as the freezer. Some asshole stole the
LeanCuisines from my freezer, really? This is my last party, people are
retarded.

   The kitchen took me a good hour and a half. I moved to the living room
next. I washed the coffee table, vacuumed the carpet, grew a vagina and
made a sandwich. That's the other thing about cleaning, it's extremely
de-masculinizing. I feel like my mom when I vacuum and sweep. Thank God
people don't have the sensibility to use plates; I am not going to do the
dishes... Ever. I was just about to move down to the basement when I heard
a car door slam. For a millisecond I thought it was my parents, but then my
sanity came back to me. As if they would leave Bermuda to come back for
their only son.

   When I peered out the window, what I saw made me want to double check my
sobriety level. Had someone slipped something in my Coke? Was I even
awake. Am I being Incepted right now? What I am seeing cannot be
happening. Derrick Chase just drove Ryan to my house. Derrick Chase,
captain and quarterback of the football team, just drove Ryan Tarcy, my
wallflower dork of a best friend, to my house. I mean Derrick's a nice guy,
we're pretty good friends-- but Ryan doesn't seem... he and Derrick
would... Does Derrick even know Ryan? He's never talked about him? Or has
he? Ryan definitely hasn't mentioned Derrick. Are they friends? Shit, Ryan
looks hungover. Derrick sure looks happy. How the hell--

"Knock, knock,” I heard Ryan opening the front door.

   "I hate it when people do that. Either knock or don't knock, there's no
reason to say the sound that knocking makes."

"Quit nagging so much, your giving me a headache.” I waited for
Ryan to find me in the kitchen; the sparkling clean kitchen, I might add

"OH AM I GIVING YOU A HEADACHE???" I said obnoxiously.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," Ryan mumbled, "Do you have Advil?"

"I keep the medicine cabinet locked so people don't steal my Advil and Tums
and Tylenol," I said sarcastically, and went off to get Ry an Advil.

He was lounging in the freshly cleaned living room, rubbing his temples. I
could spot beer cans leading down to the guest room, but I tried to ignore
them and focus on the spotless room I had just cleaned.

"Here's your pill Nancy Drew, we wouldn't want you to get pregnant on us."

"You're so dumb." Ryan said, he sounded too tired to speak, but he was
smiling.

"We wouldn't want you to give birth to Derrick Chase's love child or
anything..." Ryan sat up straighter, and he didn't sound as tired.

"What are you saying?"

"I mean, you both seem pretty happy this morning. Derrick sure was very
smily. A few sips of vodka and even a tough football jock like him may be
inclined to--" I took my pointer fingers and smushed them together.

"Fuck you. He was just being nice. He saved me from being frozen alive."

"Frozen alive? Are you high? What are you talking about--?"

"I got lost last night in your neighborhood for hours! Didn't you check
your phone I called you a dozen times?"

"I've been cleaning but I--"

"Well I was lost in a fucking blizzard. I thought I was gonna go
hypothermic, but Derrick saw me and picked me up." Ryan explained.

"Oh," I said open-endedly, "So where'd you guys go when he picked you up."

"To his house..." Ryan was blushing now. His white cheeks looked so red.

"What did you do at his house, Ryan?" I asked innocently.

"We slept, dumbass, we slept." he snarled, but his cheeks were still red.

"In the same bed?"

   Oh my God! They did sleep in the same bed. I can tell. Ryan's face gives
stuff away too easily. He's the absolute worst liar. I'm not sure if it's
because I know him so well, or if he really is just a shit liar.

"No-- we slept-- his couch. I slept on his couch."

"Whatever," I smirked, "So am I being replaced? Do you have a new best
friend?"

"I wish I could replace you," Ryan smiled.

"You're words cut deeper than daggers," I said melodramatically.

"He gave me his number," Ryan said to no one in particular.

"Wow. Aren't you just the most popular kid in town this morning."

Ryan just smiled.

"I hear Derrick has two phones. One for all the girls he hooks up with, and
one that he actually uses... I wonder what number he gave to you." I said,
trying to get him riled up.

"Haters gonna hate." was all he said, still smiling.

"Yeah, I'm totally hating on your super special relationship with Derrick."
he didn't say anything, "Well now that you're here and your all medicated
up, you have to help me clean."

"Ughhhh, but Jamie I'm tired and sleepy and I probably won't be that much
help anyways."

"Yeah, I'm sure you and Derrick didn't sleep a bit," I said, doing the
finger thing again.

   That finally got a reaction out of him. He hit me with a pillow over the
head.

"Careful! I just cleaned in here!"

   He threw the pillow back on the couch.

"We didn't sleep together."

"I know, dude, I know," I smiled quirkily at him, "but c'mon, Derrick
Chase? Do you even know him?"

"Of course! Everyone knows him!"

"Mhmm, but how many people have slept at his house?" I said, but before he
could respond, I continued, "Alright you take the downstairs, I'll take
upstairs. Do you want music?"

"Fine, put on something good though," he said before wandering towards the
basement, grabbing a handful of trash bags before he descended the steps.

   I put on Florence + The Machine, since I knew it was his favorite. Ryan
is a little quirky, but that's why we're friends. I'm too grounded and
realistic. It only makes sense to have Ryan as my best friend. We're
perfect opposites; we complete each other. Well, we don't have opposite
tastes in music. I love Florence. Ryan could never know though. He thinks
he's some cool Indie kid and I'm the mainstream loser. I hummed to the tune
of "Shake It Out."

"And it's hard to dance with the devil on your back..."

   There was a time, back in grade school, where I thought Ryan might be a
little, well, gay. I'm not saying I have a problem with all that. It was
just a thought that I had about him. I don't know. I didn't think he
was. But maybe. I figured if he was, he would have told me. I mean, I'm his
best friend, right? If he was I would be the first to know. If he was, he
could at least try and come on to me, right? I'm pretty attractive? No, I
don't think Ryan's gay. He just is shy around girls. He gets nervous around
them. The same way he gets nervous when any football player gets within
spitting distance of him. No, no, he's not gay. I know it. But what
if... The least he could do is roufie me or something! I'm hot! I'm not
saying I want him to put his dick up my ass, but I'd be insulted if he was
gay and didn't think I was attractive! I'm attractive! Right? I looked up
from the toilet I was scrubbing, and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

   I was tan. My face was, anyways. My face didn't have any acne. I touched
my cheek. Smooth as a baby's ass. Or Ryan's ass. Ew! No. Baby's ass. Baby's
ass. My hair was messy, but I hadn't taken a shower yet. But even when I
did take a shower, was my hair really that neat? Not like Ryan's
hair. Ryan's hair was perfect. Fuck off, brain! Stop thinking! My eyes are
brown. Just brown. Like dirt. Dirt is brown. Poop is brown. Did my eyes
look like poop? No... I don't think so. I hate cleaning, it makes me
insane.

   When I had scrubbed the bathroom spotless, I went on to the bedrooms. I
kept my parents' room locked, but the guest room, my room, and my sister's
old room were open to all, free of charge. The rooms were disgusting. If
the kitchen was the dirtiest room, the bedrooms were the nastiest. Beer
cans and bottles littered the floors, the room reeked of sweat and sex, and
making the bed was always a fun time; I found five used condoms in my
sister's bed along with a tampon, also used. People were filthy. Where did
everyone's class go? Obama did this to us. Put a black man in the oval
office, and people suddenly think they can do whatever the fuck they
want. All of a sudden having sex and leaving your sperm to get cleaned up
by another person is okay. It's not even remotely okay. There is nothing in
the 'bro code' that requires me to have to clean up some douchebag's
spunk. Also, just to be clear, I wore gloves when I picked up the
tampon... and sanitized my hands five times... and burned the gloves. I was
not gonna get AIDS cleaning up some nasty slut's tampon. That would be a
real fitting way to die. Killed by a dirty bitch's period blood. I wondered
if Ryan is having as much fun as me?

"Ryyyyyyyy," I shouted at the top of my lungs.

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat." I heard him from the basement.

   A few pounding footsteps later, and he was standing in the doorway

"What's up-- HOLY SHIT! Is that a used tampon!?"

"Wha--oh, yeah. I found that awhile ago. Are you ready for a break?"

"Yeah, I'm basically done downstairs. Not much else to do."

"I'll be the judge... You're a lazy cleaner," I said, my neat-freak issues
taking over.

"Do you wanna get Jimmy Johns?" Ryan asked. Ry loved Jimmy Johns. Loved. I,
personally, thought their sandwiches were a little plain, but Ryan loved
them because of their "simplicity." His words, not mine. I just think
they're boring.

"Yeah, yeah. You have to drive."

   The JJs was right up the street from my house, and I was happy to
abandon my messy abode. It really wasn't thaat messy anymore. Just my room,
the guest room, and then Ryan's half-assed attempt at the basement. We
decided to eat our sandwiches at the JJs, and the tables were really
small. Ryan's legs were interlocking with mine the whole time.

"So, you never told me about Molly? Did you guys do anything?" I asked. The
whole reason I set that date up was because Molly would put out for just
about anyone.

"We danced a little," he smiled between a mouthful of sandwich.

"You. Danced. Really? That's all. Did you feel her tits? Finger her a
little bit? Anything??"

"Her teeth were yellow. She really wasn't that hot." Ryan said as if it
were yesterday's news.

"She wasn't supposed to be hot, dude! She was supposed to be so slutty, Kim
Ju Son could have a chance at getting to third base!"

"Kim Ju--?"

"The Asian foreign exchange kid. That's not the point! What did you do at
the after-party?"

"I went for a walk, remember? We had this conversation already."

"Well-- why-- but why didn't you take Molly with you on your walk?" I
asked, I was totally confused.

"I wanted to get away from her! I wasn't about to take her with me!" Ryan
was a little red. Was he gay? Shut up, brain.

"That's the last time I hook you up with a girl. Ever. She was so perfectly
slutty, Ry!"

"Her teeth reminded me of the donkey in Shrek," he complained.

I had to laugh, "I love you bro, but you gotta lose your v-card at some
point junior year. You can't go into senior year not knowing what you're
doing."

"Whatever, are we going back to your house?"

"I guess we have to get back at some-- hold up." I just realized what Ryan
was wearing; how did it take me this long to notice. I mean, wow, did he
steal it? Why is he wearing it in public? Does he know what people may
think? "Is that Derrick's shirt you're wearing?"

   It wasn't really a question. He was wearing a grey, slightly bagging
T-shirt. All the Varsity Football players wore them last year. Derrick had
been on Varsity since he was a freshmen, and sure enough, in the upper
right corner of the shirt was "DERRICK CHASE-- QUARTERBACK." Ryan was
blushing so hard.

"No-- I mean yeah... It is." he tried to lie, "My clothes were soaked! He
said his mom would get my stuff washed and dried! He basically forced me to
put the shirt on!"

"It was just a question no reason to get so flustered," I said slyly, he
was so red and embarrassed.

"We didn't do anything!!" he almost shouted.

   But did he want to do something, that was the real question. Maybe I was
taking the 'him and Derrick' thing to far. It seemed to really piss him
off. It did kind of nag me, in the back of my head, that Ryan had never
worn one of my shirts. I wondered to myself if Ryan was wearing Derrick's
boxers or not.

"I'm just teasing, I know, I know. Let's head home. I wanna get done
cleaning so I can kick your ass in NHL 12."

   Ryan relaxed.

"As if you have a chance. What was the score last weekend?"

"That was only because my allergies were acting up! I wasn't feeling well!
You're an ass." he was smirking as we walked to his car.

   The rest of the day Ryan and I cleaned together. It took us longer, but
it was funnier. I threw a condom at Ry and, after sanitizing his hands, he
proceeded to dump the whole bottle of sanitizer on my head. It made my hair
really greasy; I remembered that I still hadn't taken a shower.

"Dude, I think were done." It was seven-o-clock, and since it was winter,
already dark outside.

"About time!" Ryan whined, "If it was up to me, we would have been done
hours ago!"

"Well, it wasn't up to you, now, was it?" I said playfully, "I have to go
take a shower, I reek. Are you staying the night?"

"Yeah, I figure that's best. I really don't feel like going home. Leave
some hot water for me, I haven't showered either." he added.

   I really don't know what made me say it, but I blurted, "Do you wanna'
just come shower with me?"

   Ry looked up, he had this confused look on his face.

"Uhhh-- I think I'll pass. Maybe-- I don't know, another time." he looked
like he was still trying to process my question.

"Oh, yeah-- no, I mean. It's good." I said awkwardly, and walked off to the
Windex-smelling bathroom.

   I turned the water all the way to hot, and let the bathroom steam up,
before stepping under the warm water. I don't know what's up with me today?
I mean, why the hell did I ask Ry that? I'm going insane. I need to call
Clara or something. I don't think of Ryan like... that. I'm not into, like,
naked dudes. But the thought of Ryan sweaty and naked flashed in my mind,
and I couldn't stop myself from getting hard. Soap was running down my
body, and after shampooing my head, I could not resist letting my hands
wander down my chest, towards my throbbing crotch. My hands were still
soapy when I gave my stiff cock a few tugs. Was this normal? Forget Ryan!
Am I the one who's gay?

TBC

Hi. Okay, I didn't expect that many emails within that short of a time
period. I'm not complaining though! But wow, pressures on. Not sure how
much everyone will like this one; no Derrick :( I really wanted to
establish James as a prominent character. Next chapter will be longer, and
we'll get back with Derrick I promise. I have most of chapter 3 written so
I'll shoot for Friday or Saturday. As long as people are reading, I'll keep
submitting. Questions, comments, suggestions, poems of endearment, sonnets
of lamentation, all that goes to pessimistsandoptimists@gmail.com. Thanks
for reading!

Oh! Also, I think I have to mention that the song "I'm Sexy and I Know It"
is by LMFAO, which you should know if you don't live under a rock. The song
"Shake It Out" is by my ex-lover Florence Welch, from Florence + The
Machine. Go download all of her of music if you're cool... Or don't, that's
okay.