The Virtue of Patience

It should go without saying, but everyone engaging in sexual acts throughout the course of this story is over the age of eighteen.

Also, this is quite literally my first attempt at writing erotic fiction, so please be gentle with me (wacka wacka) and stay constructive in the comments, I am very sensitive :(

************

September 2002

If there was one thing that Garrett hated about school, it was that the place reminded him of San Francisco.

He'd been to the city in question three times, and he'd hated every minute of each trip: it was loud, crowded, smelly, and seemed to constantly be covered in a thin layer of grime, much like Danville High School itself. Now, however, with the California summer heat raging like the fires of hell itself, a fresh layer of misery was added to the pile which nearly drove him over the edge...and to think, it was only noon.

The harsh clanging of the bell resonated throughout the halls in a way that had always eerily reminded Garrett of the bells he'd heard in prison documentaries. With it, his AP English instructor piped up to remind him and his classmates that their first essay, which was to detail the importance of proper grammar, punctuation and spelling in a professional setting, was due the Thursday of the following week. No big, he thought to himself as he stood from his desk, shouldered his backpack and made his way toward the door. It was supposed to be three pages minimum, double-spaced. He'd knock that bullshit out in an hour or two that night so that he could spend his weekend playing Half Life.

This outlook summed up his general attitude toward his education perfectly: school had become, in his mind, a mostly inane and impractical slog, a waste of his time and effort that kept him from playing video games, wandering around with his Travis, or reading things that he was actually interested in-like science fiction, horror and comic books. Sure, his grades were perfectly satisfactory and he was more than capable of keeping his teachers off his back, but that didn't mean that he was remotely interested in anything they had to say. This was temporary, a stopgap between him and his future that he had to ride out for just two more years.

He repeated it to himself like a mantra as he headed down the hallway toward the quad, surrounded by throngs of chattering, barking, laughing students: it's not forever...it's not forever...it's not forever...

It's just two more years.

Two whole fucking years.

* * *

"'Sup asshole, how're you likin' Marcus?"

Travis snuck up on Garrett as he walked out into the quad, lightly shoulder-checking him. As Garrett looked over at his friend and rolled his eyes, Travis' signature shit-eating grin spread across his face, and Garrett knew that he was, of course, just kidding. He always was, it seemed.

"He's okay. I mean, he's a high school English teacher; I'm pretty sure they're all about the same."

Travis laughed. "No shit? My sister told me he's a fuckin' ball-buster. She had him back when she was a junior."

"Yeah, well, maybe your sister was just a shitty student, ever think of that?" Garrett shot back.

Travis laughed again, still grinning like a clown. "Maybe. I mean, my mom told me her grades at OSU aren't that great, so it's not a stretch."

"Damn dude, throwing your own sister under the bus? That's messed up." Garrett said, finally cracking a smile in return.

"Ah, fuck it, man, you'll be okay. Now let's get in line, pizza slices are half off today, and I'm not missing out on that!"

To that end, the two friends quickly made their way across the open quad, the merciless assault of direct sunlight melting away what little protection the awnings surrounding it provided. They were lucky: Garrett spied a cafeteria window with only two people in line, and they just managed to beat a group of four girls to the punch, one of whom gave Travis a dirty look as they snaked their way into place behind a small freshman. Travis, as unapologetic with nearly everyone else as he was with Garrett, only grinned in response. He didn't even balk when she rolled her eyes and called him a 'fucking creep'.

Five minutes later, pizza slices and water bottles in hand, they left the quad for the relative quiet of the school's front lawn. Near the front entrance was a massive pair of oak trees, flanking the wide cement walkway to the large pair of steel gates that lead into the quad itself. Beneath each tree was an old bench, a commemorative placard displaying the name of the school and the year of its founding (1947, to be exact) screwed into the back of each. Garrett and Travis sat on the bench to the right of the walkway, shielded from the worst of the sun by the old oak tree's thick canopy.

"It's only been two weeks," Garrett grumbled after they'd taken their first few bites, "and I already want it to be winter break. Fuck school, fuck this heat, I'm done, dude."

"Look man, I'm with you," Travis replied, a mouthful of pizza slightly muffling his words, "but then you wouldn't get to see sights like that." He added quietly after swallowing, and nodding toward the entrance of the school.

Garrett looked to his right to see a slender, athletic and immensely tall (relative to the two of them) girl striding out of the open gate and along the front of the school, heading toward the student paking lot. There may have been over a thousand students at Danville, but Garrett knew immediately who that figure belonged to, and not just because he shared a lab station with her.

In truth, anyone who met Brianne 'Brie' Haskett in person would be hard-pressed to forget her in any short amount of time. In addition to her aloof demeanor, her habit of addressing anyone other than her few friends in short, curt sentences, and her 'ice queen' stare that Garrett was convinced could falter the sun itself, she topped out at an incredible six-foot-three, making her easily one of the most memorable and immediately recognizable students attending the school. He and Travis stood at five-nine and five eight, respectively, which put her half a head above either of them. At only sixteen, it was a hell of a thing to have a girl tower above them like that...in addition to the distinct possibility that she might be perfectly capable of beating them both down at the same time.

Brianne was one of the star players on the Danville volleyball team, and her physique showed it. Lean and toned, she was clad in a black tank top and a pair of olive-colored shorts. Her dark brown, shoulder-length hair was tied back in a small ponytail, her short bangs hanging free. Garrett's eyes were momentarily drawn to the vague outline of her bra beneath her tank top, his hormones momentarily getting the better of him. He tore his eyes away from her and looked back at his pizza.

"Dude I gotta know..." Travis started.

"What?"

"I mean, sure, I've heard people call her 'ice queen' and 'quiet bitch' and all that shit, but I mean...I never really see her talk to anyone other than that Chelsea chick and what's her name...?"

"Jana? And spit it out already."

"Yeah!" Travis said, snapping his fingers. "Jana, yeah. So, I mean...what's she actually like?"

Garrett looked toward Brie's receding figure, contemplating for just a moment before looking back at his slice.

"Couldn't tell you."

"What?! Oh come on man, she's been sitting next to you for two weeks straight and you're telling me that she hasn't said a word to you?!"

"You asked what she was like, not if we talk-and we don't. She's just not a talkative person, at least not with me. If I were to guess, I'd say she's just guarded and...maybe not antisocial, but...uh...what's a good word for it...?"

"Selectively social, maybe?" Travis offered.

"Yeah, that's a good way to put it, actually."

"Well you two are pretty much the same, you know?"

At this, Garrett looked up from his pizza and gave his friend a quizzical look. "Uh...what?"

"You both have small circles and you both avoid socializing like it's, I dunno, AIDS or something."

"Classy, Trav. Real classy."

"I mean I'm right though, think about it. She really only has a couple friends, as far as I know, and you have, what, me and maybe two or three more...?"

Garrett said nothing. Crude as his phrasing may be, Travis' logic was unassailable.

"Just saying, man, you ought to try talking to her. You might as well, you've got a whole semester ahead of you, and you'll be right next to her the whole time. Honestly, I bet you're as curious as I am."

"Maybe a little," Garrett said, "but I have no idea what I'd even say."

"Start with 'hi, I'm Garrett, please don't crush me like a soda can'," Travis replied, grinning. Garrett had to smile at that, and lightly punched his friend on the shoulder, nearly causing him to drop his pizza crust.

* * *

"Hey."

Garrett had gotten lucky. Brianne had looked up at him as he'd walked up to their two-person lab table, their temporary home together during sixth-period biology. He'd spent all of fifth period AP social studies trying to decide what, if anything, he should say to her when the time came. After all, he hadn't been lying to Travis: they'd hardly spoken to one another in the short time that they'd been paired up. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to go about it? In the end, though, he'd decided that he was hugely overthinking it and that Travis had been right: a simple "hi" was probably the best way to go about it.

After his greeting, she stared blankly at him for a split second, then blinked.

"Hi."

As he sat down and set his backpack on the table next to its' small faucet, she looked away from him and out the classroom window, which faced the school's football field and track. He wondered if she also believed that school was just an obstacle in the way of what she really cared about. Maybe Travis had been correct, and that there was a chance that he could relate to her on some level, even if it was as simple as a distaste for school. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

And then, before Garrett could even begin to stop himself, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind:

"Don't worry, just two more hours and we're out of here."

She started just a little and looked back at him.

"Huh?"

"It looked like you wanted to...you know, get out of here, so...you know what, sorry, I'll shut up." He stammered, breaking eye contact and blushing more than he'd have liked.

She did not look away, though. Her piercing blue eyes remained fixed on his reddening face. However, it was not the infamous withering, icy glare he'd occasionally seen her give others around the school, it was...curious, maybe?

"I have volleyball practice, though." She finally said.

Garrett looked back at her. "What?"

"I said, I...I have volleyball practice. After school, I mean, so I can't go home right away."

"Oh! Oh yeah. That's cool." He managed to say without stammering, thank fuck. "Cooler than what I'll be doing." Jesus, he just couldn't stop! Come on Garrett, she probably doesn't want to hear it, he raged at himself, shut up before she glares you into a fucking Popsicle!

But, again-amazingly-she did not do so. Instead, her expression unchanged, she asked "and what's that?"

"Uh...probably doing homework and reading."

Before she could reply, their biology teacher, Ms. Curtin, called out "Okay everyone, notepads out! I'll be going over cellular structure, chapter fifteen in the book! Jot down anything that seems important!"

The class quieted down and there was a rustling as they all pulled out binders and writing utensils, Garrett and Brie included. As Ms. Curtin started up her overhead projector, and as Garrett began to think to himself 'well that could have gone better, but it definitely could have gone worse', he heard Brie speak quietly from his right:

"Reading is cool too."

He looked over to see her giving him a small smile before she returned her attention to their teacher and the beginning lecture. He managed not to show it, but he was dumbfounded. He'd expected a complete rebuff, and had received the polar opposite.

Immediately, all of his preconceptions about her were thrown into doubt. Maybe, when you got down to it, Brianne Haskett really was just another student trying to find her way through the maze that was high school, just like he and Travis were. Maybe she really wasn't the ice queen some people called her behind her back. She certainly seemed different than what he'd been expecting thus far.

And man...she had the bluest eyes.

* * *

Garrett hucked miserably in the direction of home, the heat as relentless as it had been at lunch. Around him, other students were making their way to the merciful air conditioned interiors of their cars, their friend's cars, or the bus that waited at the stop on the sidewalk at the edge of the front lawn. Other than the students rushing to vehicles or those driving by, however, the people of Danville had largely retreated into the comforts of their cooled offices and homes. Garrett had about a mile and a half to go before he could join them, however, so he pulled his portable CD player out of his backpack, uncoiled the headphone wires, slipped them over his ears and pressed play, stuffing the player back into his pocket. Te opening drum roll of The Smashing Pumpkins' 'Cherub Rock' filled his ears, and with this, he began his journey into the older suburban neighborhoods that surrounded Danville High.

Danville itself was all right, he supposed. It was a city of around 120,000 people, located within the south end of California's Central Valley. It was comprised mostly of suburbs, a few large commercial areas and an industrial district that sat off to the south end of town. Surrounding it on all sides were acres and acres of farmland, where everything from walnuts, soybeans, apricots, almonds, grapes and cherries were grown and shipped all over the country, as well as the world. Overall, it wasn't quite idyllic, but it also wasn't terrible.

Garrett was just sick of the fucking heat. He wished that Travis' car wasn't in the shop; he'd have asked for a ride home at lunch, otherwise. But it was not to be, and he faced the walk home alone, grateful when he crossed the street into the residential area and took shelter under the trees that covered most of the sidewalks.

He was still oddly elated over his interaction with Brie. As he went over it again and again in his mind, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at the school, the top of the gym just barely visible. She would be there now, tall and beautiful, dominating the court and leaving everyone else in the dust, like some Amazonian goddess putting the peons in their place...

He couldn't lie to himself: part of his curiosity stemmed from his opinion that she was, quite frankly, a stunner. Her height didn't negate that at all in his mind; it probably did for a lot of the guys at the school, but he didn't give a shit. Hell, he thought to himself, I'd climb that tree.

But, he thought as he continued on his trek, he probably wasn't her type. She was an athlete, and he liked to stay indoors. He was just a quiet, skinny, low-key geek who could probably never keep up with her in any regard. After all, just because she'd been polite to him once didn't mean that they were on the fast track to becoming Danville High's most bizarre couple of 2002.

* * *

The cool air washed over him like a waterfall, bathing him in relief. The low hum of the AC unit was a choir of angels come to save his wretched soul from the depths of the hellish 100-degree heat of the outside.

Garrett stood beneath the vent in the hallway for a solid five minutes just soaking in the cold, still sweating from his walk home to 4313 Sequoia Lane. Buried within one of the city's older suburbs, it had been built before the time of tract houses, so it had a unique vibe to it; a cozy, homely and worn-in feel that Garrett had always loved. He may have hated his school and felt ambivalent about Danville as a city, but he felt perfectly at home in this house and in this neighborhood-he knew every inch of it like the back of his hand. It was his place, and he knew that a part of him would belong there until the day he died.

Pulling himself away from the heavenly cool, he went into the kitchen and looked at the clock above the back door. Quarter to three; his dad wouldn't be home until six at the earliest, so he decided to kick back and veg out in front of the TV for an hour or so. He'd knock out his AP English essay and history worksheet after that, just so he wouldn't have anything holding him back from enjoying his upcoming weekend to the fullest. Shit, maybe he'd call Travis and see if he wanted to catch a movie on Saturday, it wasn't as if that guy had anything better to do.

As he settled in on the old couch in the living room, remote in hand, he began to flip through channels until he found a stand-up special. As he was watching, though, he found his thoughts turning yet again to Brie. He just could not get this girl out of his head now; she'd wormed her way in and just wouldn't leave. The scenario popped into his head: the two of them, sitting next to each other on his couch, watching this very same comedy special, her sparkling eyes as full of laughter as her smile. And as the credits rolled, she stopped and locked eyes with him. Her smile faded just a little, and her hand found his. She leaned in slowly, never taking her eyes off of his own except for when they closed and her lips were about to meet his...

He was startled back to reality by Gordie, his chubby grey tabby, jumping onto his lap. Garrett jumped a little and glared at his feline friend, who merely meowed quietly and curled up on his lap, his purring vibrating up through Garrett's legs. He rolled his eyes and began absentmindedly rubbing Gordie's belly as the stand-up special rolled on.

* * *

"Hey bud, you okay with leftovers?"

William Trenton, or Bill to his friends, called out to his son from the end of the hallway, who sat at his desk in his bedroom putting the finishing touches on his English assignment.

"Sure dad, I'm okay with whatever!" Garrett hollered back.

"Okay, we'll be ready to eat in forty-five!"

After ten of those forty-five minutes, the sixteen-year-old was finished with the essay, whereupon he slipped it into the English section of his binder. He then pulled his history worksheet out of its' section and grabbed his textbook out of the largest drawer of his desk, cracking it open to the corresponding section, and got to work.

When his father eventually leaned into his room and knocked on his open door, telling him that dinner was ready, Garrett was approximately halfway finished. Putting down his pencil, he got up and walked into the kitchen, where a dish of reheated meatloaf, some veggies and a basket of sourdough bread sat waiting. The pair sat down and tucked in, Gordie curled up in a ball at Garrett's feet.

"How was school? You keeping up okay?" Bill asked Garrett.

"Yeah I'm almost done with everything I need for the week. Hopefully no one springs anything on me tomorrow, that would suck."

"No kidding. I remember what a drag homework was, you know? Any plans for the weekend?"

"I might see if Travis wants to see a movie."

"Sounds like a plan."

Bill and Garrett Trenton were a pair that had survived together practically from the start: Garrett's mom hadn't been in the picture since he was seven, and they had been on their own ever since, Bill doing his damndest to make sure that his son got everything he needed to make it in life. They had developed an understanding early on: they needed one another's help and support, otherwise things would fall apart-and neither of them wanted or needed that. Garrett had already witnessed the demise of his parents' marriage at a young age, Bill had lost his wife in a manner crueler than most, and there was no need to pile anything on top of those events. Ever since, it had been just the two of them. They talked to each other about pretty much everything: Garrett's frustrations with school and being a teenager, Bill's endless challenges with the incompetent upper management of the excavation company that he worked for, the list went on and on.