The Book of Firsts

Sixty-Three

Friday brought a warm day with clear skies, and Kyou, waiting for me at the fence.

"It’s been nearly a month," I whispered, with a pleased smile.

"Be assured, I’m more than aware," he said, beautiful voice low and compelling. "Worse still, I can only blame myself."

Mindful of the risk, I didn’t linger while he fixed the fence, but paused a few steps inside the garden, discovering an easel and canvas. Along with a palette and some tubes of acrylic, several mid-sized bottles of paint were sitting on the picnic table. The canvas looked complete, a vivid rendition of the summer house, festooned with roses.

"Impressionist? Not what I expected."

"Just an exercise in technique. Not to mention an excuse for bringing a lot of paint in here. So long as they don’t look at the labels."

I read the nearest, and laughed. Today was fantasy costume, and Kyou had brought body paint. "I didn’t guess your costume at all. Maybe because I’ve never seen you painting, despite you telling me your future plans. That was blind of me."

"I’m almost hurt, Cheshire," he said, sliding his arms around my waist. "Art is integral to my existence."

A complacent smile accompanied this statement, and he slid his hands down for some exploratory kneading.

"How would you describe your usual art style?" I asked, my gaze drawn back to the painting. A shimmering scene, a remembrance of a warm, tranquil, and private space.

"Hyper-realism. Occasional experiments in other areas. But enough talk—there’s a lot to get through today." He took my hand and led me to the summer house, adding: "First to take the edge off, because I don’t think it’s possible for me to finish any kind of painting right now without being entirely distracted."

He’d already spread blankets on the couch, and pulled me down into a hot embrace. When I had space to speak, I murmured: "What, no tea?"

Kyou snorted, and stopped my words again. We shed layers with just enough care to not lose buttons, and surged together. He was very hungry, fingers digging into my back, mouth hot, every action emphatic. It made me want to wrestle him, so I did, and laughed at the excitement in his eyes.

"Green or black?" he asked, much later.

"Green," I said, stretching, then went outside to clean myself up while he boiled water.

"Put your hair up to keep it out of the paint," he said, when I came back. He handed me a cup, adding: "And because it’s one of my favourite looks."

I looped my hair up with practiced twists, then sat down to sip my tea. "I’ll have a neater effort for Casual Friday, since Bran already put in a similar request."

"Oh? What’s the rest of the look?"

"That blue tunic dress and short shorts."

"Sounds delectable. Make sure you wander about somewhere I can see."

"Bran wants me to be conspicuous at a morning assembly."

"I wonder if I can arrange for the audience to be filmed?" He paused. "Parading about with those legs will result in a lot of attention for you that I won’t like on a few levels. I’ll dial up my impulse control in advance."

"My rendition of a glasses-off transformation scene. Saving it for the last day of classes is nicely dramatic. I might even wear makeup."

"Hm. Make sure Lania takes lots of pictures," he said. "Speaking of which, did you really let Rin take a photograph? He claims that one exists, but won’t let us look."

"Technically, I took a photograph. So long as I’m not identifiable, I think a photograph is quite a suitable keepsake for this particular challenge."

He didn’t respond immediately and, looking up, I caught an almost grim expression on his face. Then he wiped it away, smiled, and said: "Can I negotiate the number? I’m going to paint front and back."

"One’s only fair."

"Who said I wanted to be fair? Let’s get started."

Back at the picnic table, he picked up a roll of heavy plastic and spread it to cover much of the tabletop, then used it as a palette, mixing a large amount of midnight blue.

"I debated endlessly about what to paint," he remarked, as he made the first, dark stroke down my arm. "Initially I thought Alice in Wonderland themes, of course, and perhaps I’ll add a little fading grin somewhere, but it doesn’t really match the moments that have given me my deepest impression of you. Of course, there’s a few too many, including half-face sunburn, but can you guess one of my strongest images of you?"

"Seems to involve night," I said, watching it wash across me in broad strokes. "Sleeping bag adventures?"

"That certainly left an impression. But, no, it’s the school trip, watching you walk across that hotel rooftop in the moonlight, and then being swallowed up by the shadows, come to tell us how shallow Meggan’s heart is."

"Doesn’t sound a very positive association."

"Well, for once you hadn’t covered up your legs. But it was more…" He paused, drawing a long line from my throat to my stomach. "Shared secrets, I suppose you could say. Or mutual indignation. You sounded entirely disgusted when you explained the Them or Me Thing. Besides, I was so furious afterwards that I had to spend the whole night drawing pictures of you in an effort to not go and yell at Meggan."

"More than just the two you sent me?"

"Oh, absolutely. Using a sketchbook that comes with its own lock. Also framed to avoid identifying features, which is very painful to me."

He was sensible enough to not take the risk, which I appreciated greatly, so I said: "One front photo, one back photo."

Kyou leaned forward to kiss me, then added in a low, triumphant purr: "And I thought I’d have to spend the rest of the afternoon coaxing you."

"It’s the voice," I said, shivering a little as he sent the brush across my left breast. "Undermines all my resistance."

He chuckled, and proceeded to talk as he painted, covering my back while telling me I had beautiful shoulder blades, and discussing the view while I stood on the picnic table to make it easier for him to paint my ankles.

"You’re making me want to step on your face," I said, smiling down at him.

He stopped painting, eyes widening, but then shook his head. "I’m not a submissive, but I think it best you keep such remarks to yourself until I’ve finished dressing you up."

I was midnight from throat to toe by then, and watched with interest as he stopped chattering and started applying shading to the background he’d laid. Variations of white, picking out shapes glimmering in moonlight. I leaned forward, trying to work out the image, and realised it was the leaves and a flower from the potted Bird of Paradise plants that had decorated the rooftop café.

"I’d probably have agreed to a second photo around about now anyway," I remarked, after I turned around so he could continue the image. "Once I realised I would have no idea what you painted on my behind."

"Crude penises," he said, comfortably.

"Nothing new, then."

Kyou made an amused sound, but didn’t keep talking, concentrating on transforming me. After I moved down off the table, I decided not to look any more, thinking back to the island visit, and then over the next few weeks until the exams. One of the reasons I’d agreed to photos is because I wanted them myself. Keepsakes. Kyou hadn’t liked me framing them that way.

I had plenty of practice in not wallowing in upcoming departures, so soon shifted my thoughts to turning over mock exam questions, interspersed with watching Kyou’s face while he painted. Of the three, he had the best jawline, and I also appreciated his naturally arched eyebrows. His hair was at least two inches longer than when I’d first seen him, and strands of dark hair shaded his eyes. A little longer and it would frame his face nicely.

He noticed my gaze, and paused in his painting.

"Penny for them, Cheshire?"

"I was thinking that maybe you’d be able to wear your hair in a ponytail soon."

He grinned. "Looking forward to that?"

"Yes," I said, frankly. "It really suits you."

He bent his head and kissed me, careful to keep the rest of our bodies apart, then murmured: "You’ll make me blush." After that he switched to painting my back, perhaps because the tips of his ears really were a little red.

"And done," he said, perhaps a quarter hour later. "You’ve been very patient."

"It’s interestingly meditative, once I managed to stop myself squirming."

He dunked his brush, wiped his hands and took his mobile phone, then spent some time deciding on the best lighting for his photos. When he showed them to me, I was briefly speechless.

Kyou had painted Bran on my back, head lowered, posture brooding, hands in the pockets of his shorts, and his Hawaiian shirt flapping back from a single button fastened at the top. He’d placed Rin on my left rib cage, giving a café chair the air of a throne, his expression cold as ice. A painted Kyou stood beside him, head located neatly between my breasts, eyes downcast, one hand clenched.

I remembered Rin saying that Kyou’s non-digital work was usually deeply personal. On me, he’d captured two losses: one avoided at the last moment, and the other the discovery that a person they’d thought a friend had been selfishly destructive. Not fun or romantic or happy images, but remarkably vivid, outlined by moonlight paint on my skin.

"This is way more symbolic than I was expecting."

"This past year would have been completely different if you hadn’t happened into this garden," he said, voice low. "I doubt the alternative…well, let’s not spoil the moment. I find I’m in the mood to bathe you."

I accepted the change of subject without comment, following him around to the hose. "Have you ever washed away one of your paintings before?"

"I’ve shredded a lot of bad sketches. If it’s a canvas, I usually paint over the truly irredeemable."

"I’m not sure I could do that. I like to see my progress."

"Do you sketch, Cheshire?"

"I draw cities."

"Of buildings, or just bridges?"

"Both. I have sketchbooks full of them, stored in the boxes we keep at my grandmother’s. Fewer lately, since my mother bought me a laptop with AutoCAD installed, and I’ve been focusing on my technical skills there. I’ve only done a few pages since I came to Corascur."

"Do you have one with you?"

I shook my head, then wriggled as Kyou squirted a generous amount of liquid soap over my back and shoulders, briskly rubbed it in and sluiced it. Then, before I could turn around, he leaned over my shoulders, added a generous amount of soap to my front, and began a leisurely massage.

"Brings back memories," I said, relaxing against his chest. "Mainly of you testing to see whether I was easily startled."

"Pure impulse," he said, chuckling. "I was intending to be extremely decorous."

"Lies."

"Well, I intended to start decorously." He let go of my breasts, but only in order to turn me around and start kissing me. "But now, I plan to be quite the opposite."

There was quite a lot of dark blue paint on Kyou by the time his phone chimed a warning. He sighed, sat up, and looked down at his chest. "There are possibly traces of Rin’s face smeared across my ribs," he said. "I’ll tell him that later."

"I expect he’ll enjoy the imagery. But now we have to be particular about ensuring no trace remains. Matching body paint would be almost as obvious as those twin sunburns."

We scrubbed enthusiastically, double-checked each other for traces, and then I trotted off to Art Club, and walked into a strategy meeting. Carr, sitting on one of the workbenches, smiled at me as I came in: "Good timing. This is a discussion I really wanted to have you here for."

"Oh?"

"We can finally say goodbye to posters for the upcoming exams, and move on to early work on the Seniors' Ball. Given the theme, I was wondering if a gondola would be within your technical capabilities?"

"A gondola?" I shrugged. "I suppose so. One people sit in, or just background decoration?"

"If we’re talking interactive, a bridge would be a better option," Sue pointed out. "People could take photos standing on it, and they’re less likely to trip than they would getting in and out of boats in big floofy dresses."

"Good idea," I said, vastly preferring the idea to a gondola.

"Here we are planning a ton of work, and there’s Mika, glowing like she’s been given the biggest treat ever," Lania said, laughing.

"Do you think they’d let me build the Rialto?"

"Do you think the Rialto is doable?" Carr asked. "I seem to recall it being elaborate."

"Give me the resources, I’ll give you half of Venice. Well, show me the venue first, and I’ll do up a design plan. Is the dance on campus?"

"In Sports One," Carr said.

"Sounds very utilitarian, but it looks nice when swathed in sufficient layers of gauze and satin," Sue added.

"I don’t think I’ve been there. Do you mean the indoor basketball courts?"

"It’s multi-purpose. Lania, can you take Mika over to get a feel for the place while we work on poster planning?"

"Sure." Lania grabbed her backpack and led the way out. "Fair warning, the Seniors' Ball is a hot potato, and most of the school has an opinion. Particularly important are the faculty and the Social Club, though, really, it’s the Rose Court who ultimately decides. We haven’t been asked to do a full design, just come up with some features. There’s a proper meeting about it on Monday."

"No problem. I do design specs for fun and practice. I’ll put something together over the weekend just for the entertainment value. Though it would be handy to know particular requirements—things that have to be in the room."

"I’ll ask Celeste. She’s the important one on the Committee. I’ll email you if she gets back to me."

Sports One was an air hanger of a place, massive enough for multiple courts. Basketball and badminton were currently featured, with a scattered audience in the bleachers. I had vaguely wondered if I’d see Bran or Rin playing, but there was no sign, so I simply paced out some rough dimensions, checked out the side rooms, and headed back to Club.

"I’m vastly more interested in this Ball, now. I spent some quality time with the set design crew at my last school, and have been itching to try out some of the things they talked about."

"And here I thought you were looking forward to slow dancing with me," Lania complained.

"That part will also be fun."

"Any chance your boyfriend would be able to come?"

"Christophe continues to be my ex-boyfriend. And, no, he’s got a short role in some detective show. Described it as bad boy who dies. Early signs of being typecast."

"Why keep emphasising the ex-boyfriend when you’re going trekking with him in Peru? He’s—" Lania broke off, and jerked her chin forward to warn me.

I’d already seen them: Rin carrying the easel, Kyou his painting of the garden, and Bran clutching an assortment of brushes and paints—though, notably, none of the bottles of body paint. They’d come from a different path, and were several feet in front of us, heading for the Art building. Lania and I exchanged mutual expressions of appreciation, and followed along behind. It was so rare for me to see the three of them together, and especially when they weren’t aware of my presence. Bran and Rin were talking about something, but not loud enough for eavesdropping. Kyou seemed a little withdrawn, trailing a couple of steps behind his friends as they walked down the art-festooned corridor outside the club. He must have caught the sound of our footsteps because he looked back, raised his eyebrows, and smiled. But then his face went very blank as Sean loudly proclaimed from inside the room:

"I tell you, if there really are photos of all of them with this Cheshire, I’ll pay anything to see them. A girl that can wrap the Three Kings around her finger might be enough to turn me."

By sheer willpower, I managed not to stumble, and shot a quick look at Lania. She was clearly also trying to control her reaction, and glanced back at me, widening her eyes in consternation. I took a breath, wondering if I’d gone noticeably white, hoping to redirect Lania’s attention. Thankfully she looked back at Kyou, who was no longer facing in our direction. Rin and Bran had stopped, and spotted me. Bran scowled in a way that Lania was sure to misunderstand.

Rin maintained a completely blank expression for a moment, but then smoothed his face to his usual gentle mask, and took the final step to the door of the art room.

"I don’t think I’m flexible enough to be wrapped around anything. But I’m very interested in photos. Who has them?"

Silence has never been so loud.

I tugged Lania’s elbow and walked forward as the three went into the room

Rick, braver or more stolid than the rest, finally spoke. "Post about it blowing up on SunChat. But no actual pictures shown."

"Oh, hot air." Rin walked with his usual grace toward the storeroom, and Bran followed him, still scowling. Kyou went in the other direction, toward the racks where paintings could be stored safely. Lania and Sean immediately exchanged exaggerated grimaces, while I decided to put on an attitude of watching a good show, postponing my actual reaction until I could confirm whether there truly were pictures.

What if there were? What would I do?

Taking a long, slow breath, I looked around for Carr and found him busy at the corner workbench, ignoring the fuss.

"I’ve got enough to go on with," I said, crossing to him. "I’ll email you a design plan Sunday. No harm if they don’t go for it—it’s good practice for me. Are there any features you’d like included?"

"To not go over the budget? Which hasn’t been finalised yet."

"I’ll give you a cost breakdown," I said. "It shouldn’t be too daunting." A least not for this over-the-top school.

With a faint wave, I left the tense atmosphere behind me, cutting school a little early to go to the bus stop, where I immediately searched the Corascur section of the city-wide forums.

LittleBird

Who’d like to see photos proving our Student Council Executive are all hooking up with the same girl?

Naturally, along with a lot of derision, the overwhelming answer was: Me! A dozen replies down there was a second post by LittleBird.

Her name is Cheshire. First photo is released at 6pm.

Waves of nausea spread from my stomach to my throat, and I put my hand to my mouth, then bit it to keep myself under control. Even if it was only one boy, I would hate for photos of me having sex to be released on the internet. I’m a generally easy-going person, but there are some things I don’t want to share with the world.

The bus came, I found a seat by autopilot, and stared out the window in a daze. Name-calling I could handle, but how would this impact my plans to go to Helios U? And the Marden Institute? In an ideal world my private life wouldn’t have any impact on my application, but even consensual relationships between adults could count against you with photos on the local forums. That kind of thing would never go away. Any rival for any job I ever went for could use it to pull me down.

I paused, thinking things through, then pulled out my phone and logged into the Cheshire app. Unsurprisingly, Rin, Kyou and Bran had all sent messages saying they were looking into it, and would do everything to stop the photos from being uploaded.

A Certain Cat: It’s fake.

A Certain Cat: Or, at least, not me.

Kyou: Wishful thinking, or a reason?

A Certain Cat: If you were inclined to publish pictures, and had photographs of any one of you having sex in the Student Council President’s private garden, why would you wait for more? Unless you’ve been having extremely imprudent discussions where people can hear, there would be no reason to think there could be more, and a single naked photograph would be enough to generate all the drama anyone could wish. Has there been any activity on the camera installed to watch the wall I climb over?

Bran: Just more people necking. No-one climbing the wall, or putting cameras over it.

Rin: Cheshire’s right. Recent photos are unlikely, and if the photos were older, they would surely have been used already.

A Certain Cat: And any photos outside the garden won’t be of me.

Bran: What girl have we all been in contact with recently?

Kyou: Twenty, at least. The rest of the School Council, half the Club leaders.

Rin: No, unless this is total hype, there has to be something more substantive than school meetings.

Bran: To get more substantive, you’d need to take photos outside of school.

Rin: People do. And if someone had a grudge, and had perhaps overheard us saying something ambiguous about meeting Cheshire, then I suppose it’s possible they might even follow us about.

Kyou: There would definitely be some interesting gossip if they did that.

A Certain Cat: Are your career plans about to be exploded?

Kyou: Possibly our architect is about to be annoyed at us.

A Certain Cat: Okay. Well, I’m going to wind down from the adrenaline high and try to work on the design plan I was all excited about before this blew up. I’m ninety percent certain this isn’t about me, but I don’t think I’ll convince myself until we hit six o’clock.

I logged out of the app, but then just continued to stare out the window. My otherwise very positive day had been ruined, and I felt muddy and flat. As soon as I reached home I took a hot shower, and then curled up on my couch with the TV on. Background noise. Unexpectedly, I fell asleep. Even after nearly a year, I’m still not used to the easy sleep that the garden sessions give me. I woke up hungry around nine, and immediately checked the forums, scrolling down to six o’clock to see a picture of Rin with a girl hanging off his arm, pulling him toward an instant photo booth.

Not a person I’d seen before: a petite creature with smooth black hair cut asymmetrically. She smiled up at Rin brilliantly, and he wore a look of wry tolerance.

Frowning faintly, I scrolled down further to messages posted at seven pm, and found Kyou and the girl, toting bags of takeout and walking into an upmarket apartment building. Eight pm brought Bran, sitting at a table at an outdoor café, with the same girl bending down to whisper something in his ear.

I have to admit, I felt a little green-tinted. This was someone who had the friendship I thought I’d developed with these three, and while I trusted them enough to know they weren’t actually in a relationship with her, she had the freedom to associate with them in ways that the challenge prevented me from doing.

But then, she was also the one stuck with her photos all over the internet. I logged into the Cheshire app to see what they had to say.

Kyou: Darcy!

Rin: This has suddenly become hilarious.

Bran: Darcy is Kybirn’s first and currently only employee.

Rin: Our admin manager, but will be transitioning to equipment design. He’s studying history at Helios U, and plans to do a thesis on fashion and gender. His clothing is very deliberate.

Kyou: I think you’ll like him.

This had been sent at six, and the timestamp showed a gap in messages until half an hour ago.

Kyou: Darcy, fortunately, thinks it’s funny. It shouldn’t have too much impact on him.

Bran: This post is going to reach a whole new level once someone identifies him.

Rin: A convenient explanation for why we haven’t dated anyone lately.

Kyou: The photos are all from the last fortnight. We’re working on finding out who has been following us about. Will let you know.

Wondering what they’d made of my extended silence, I replied.

A Certain Cat: Sorry, I fell asleep. Good luck finding the culprit. To be safe, I think inside the summer house with the doors closed from now on, no exception.

I tossed my phone on the table and put the whole mess out of my head, grabbing my laptop to start researching the Rialto Bridge.