Finding Denver: Chapter 1

Finding Denver: Chapter 1 02/08/2011

Inspired by my short story "Losing Denver" and the wonderful feedback I have been getting from everyone, here is the first chapter of Denver's story - as seen through the eyes of Mitchell Lewis, an Australian who has just arrived at South Houston High School.

I’ll never forget getting off that bus. My first day at South Houston High School. All those crappy teen movies were playing through my head and the oppressive humidity made it hard to breathe. I followed the hoards across the parking lot, turning one-eighty as I heard the screech of tires and an eruption of swearing. This guy on a black motorbike had just missed getting flattened by some idiot backing his Ute up without checking. After a moment, I realized I should be feeling sorry for the guy in the Ute. He was cowering in the driver seat as Biker-dude gave him the stare of death. 'Denver' was the name I heard whispered around about. Though I am pretty sure I also heard ‘Devil’.
I didn’t hang around to see how it all ended. Up to that point in my life, I had learned that me and trouble weren't the best of friends. Back in Australia, I was never pegged as a hero, punk or any other sort of noticeable label. I was a laid back guy. Good listener. Annoyingly seen as ‘just a good mate’ by most of the girls I had ever known. Yeah, so maybe my philosophy in life wasn’t getting me laid, but then I was only fifteen not in any huge hurry either.
I worked my way through all the procedures for my first day at a new school. Teachers introduced me to their classes and I played it cool, acting like I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. At lunch it was warm enough to sit outside, so I picked a spot under a big tree in the courtyard. It was close enough to a bunch of groups that I didn’t look like a complete loner, but not so close that I seemed desperate to make friends. I had changed schools enough to know the ropes by now. A couple of idiots from my homeroom thought it might be fun to sneak up on me with cups of ice-water, but I saw them out the corner of my eye and stared them down until they changed their minds.
The afternoon dragged on until my last class - technology - where I saw biker-dude again. I wouldn’t have imagined him to be in my year, judging by that display in the parking lot. I figured him to be a really short senior or something. While I was waiting for the teacher, Mr McKinley, to introduce me, I kept stealing glances. There was something not quite right about that guy. His black leather jacket was a bit too big, his hair an artistically tangled mess that just managed to obscure his eyes. Maybe it was that his face was too beautiful to be on someone so scary. Now as far as I knew, I wasn’t gay, but that guy put me off balance from the get-go.
Eventually, Mr McKinley told me that the class had already been split into groups of three to work on some website project. Would you believe my luck? The only group with a space left was biker-dude and his huge muscly blonde friend. The only thing going through my head that afternoon was a faint plea to whichever deities were listening that I survive this unfortunate turn of events. Who could have known how things would turn out?
"Oi, new boy,” Denver said.
“Mm?” I forced myself to look the guy in the eye. No weakness. No challenge. Just indifference.
“What do you know about dope?” Denver’s voice was a bit higher that I expected from looking at him, but not in a funny way.
“Dope?” I responded a bit dumbly. “Why’s that?”
Denver thumbed at the monitor. “Assignment’s to make an educational website. Anthony and me figured we’d do one on weed.”
I blinked at him. “And Mr McKinley’s okay with that?”
Anthony shrugged. “It’s not like we’re telling people to smoke it - or who the local dealer is.”
I guess by the look on Denver’s face that one of them might be that very person. Oh how I hoped I wouldn’t get killed… or expelled.
“Ah…” I stalled. What did I know about weed? Not a hell of a lot. Seeing the hell my mum went through every day with the side-effects of the drugs she took just to keep her food down, I wasn’t keen on getting mixed up with any of that crap.
“Never mind,” Denver said. “We’re pretty much copying Wikipedia anyway. Can you draw?”
“Yeah, sure.” I nodded.
“Cool.” Anthony grinned. “You can make us a mascot. Do a little hemp guy with a top hat and a cane. That would be frickin’ hilarious.”
“Okay…” I pulled out my notebook and a pencil. Denver turned back to the website and pretty much ignored me. Anthony, on the other hand, watched me with this weird, avid fascination.
“That’s really good,” he murmured after I had finished the third variant of the requested cartoon hemp leaf.
“Thanks.”
Denver glanced at my page and shrugged. “That’s fine I guess. Chuck it in the scanner.”
By the end of the lesson, we had hemp-man doing a jig across the top of the page, which I suppose could be considered progress. On the way out of class, Anthony pulled me aside and said, “You’re pretty cool, new kid. What’s your name?”
“Mitchell.”
He didn’t say anything so I added, “Lewis. Mitchell Lewis.”
“Weird accent though,” he said after a moment. “Where are you from?”
“Australia.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “My dad’s Welsh though…”
Anthony went a bit glassy eyed.
“It’s in the United Kingdom…” I prompted. “Near England?”
“Oh.” He grinned. “My uncle’s got a mate from England. They met in Iraq.”
I nodded slowly. “Cool…”
Anthony’s smile faded as he thought of something else. “You seem like a cool guy, so I’ll give you a free warning…”
“Okay?” I wasn’t entirely certain I wanted to be friends with this mountain of muscle, but I wasn’t exactly going to say no to his face.
“Don’t get too close to Denver. You’ll get your balls served to you on a plate.” He said it with such a straight face I just had to believe him.
“What’s that guy’s problem?”
“Damned if I know,” Anthony replied. “Arrived here two years ago as a freshman and got suspended on the first day of term for knocking a senior out cold.”
“Did he have a good reason?”
“Oh sure,” Anthony smirked. “The guy found her coming out of the girl’s bathroom and tried to rip her shirt open.”
My mind froze completely. “Wait, did you say ‘her’?”
“Yep.” Anthony gave a low laugh. “Most people still don’t believe it, but I can assure you I have reliable sources that assure me Denver’s definitely a chick.”
At least that explained why everything seemed so messed up. ‘He’ was actually a ‘she’ under all those layers. Weird.
“Are you and her… you know…” I asked, realizing half way through that it might not be a good idea.
“Hell no.” Anthony made a face. “I don’t have a death-wish. Do you?”
I shook my head quickly.
“Good.”
“I gotta go home,” I said after a bit of an awkward silence.
“The bus is long gone,” he replied. “Come on, I’ll give you a lift. Where do you live?”
“A couple of streets over from the stadium.” I frowned, trying to remember the name. “It’s got big trees down the sides.”
“Sure, I know the area. We’ll work it out.”
Much later that night, after I had wrestled my way through five pages of differential equations and reading the first act of Merchant of Venice, again, I paused to wonder what sort of chick goes to that much effort to convince everyone she’s a dude? Judging from the rest of the school, it definitely wasn’t an American thing… or even a Texas thing. It was her, and she was probably really messed up. The alarm bells started ringing in my head. Danger Will Robinson… and all that. Stay away from the crazy chick. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her - from the mundane, like what do her parents think? To the kind of perverted, like what do the other girls see when she gets changed for gym? Does she get changed? Or does she just opt out and take whatever punishment they give. How much time does she spend in detention?
I fell asleep with Denver on my mind and somewhere in my dreams, she turned up knifed me in the gut, leaving me to bleed out on the sidewalk of my imagination. Great gal. I woke the next morning with an inexplicable sense of dread about the coming years at South Houston High School.

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Finding Denver