Subdivisions

The following contains crude humour, strong language, sexual themes, and scenes of drug usage. If any of this bothers you...well, don’t look at me. You bought the damn thing.

The assholes in this story aren’t real. If one of them has the same name as you, it’s just a coincidence. Get over yourself.

©2017 Justin Bedard

All Rights Reserved

…that means don’t put it on torrent sites. Sorry, but if you do that, you suck. Ah, who am I kidding? The fucker probably isn’t reading this even while he’s doing it.

…yeah, okay. I’ll stop that. Have fun, kids.

-------------------------------

Cover provided by Victoria Cooper Art

SUBDIVISIONS

A novel by

Justin Bedard

CHAPTER ONE

It’s a Bullshit Life

"Autotune is for quitters."

-----------------------

I know a lot of people my age that don’t have much patience. They’re always in a hurry to grow up and get something done with their lives. Y’know, being responsible and logical and all that stuff Supertramp goes on about. Me? I’ve got all the patience in the world when it comes to life itself. In fact, sometimes I feel like life should slow its ass down...or maybe just stop altogether.

Yeah, that was dark, but reaching the end of senior year in high school and having to go to summer school for nearly every class you took in the second semester has that effect.

Four hours for every weekday for the next six weeks. Did I have anything better to do? Well, no, but there were a million things I’d rather be doing than starting pretty much the three most boring classes I had all over again, just shorter. In all honesty, there were so many things I could do that would be just as good. With math, I could have been able to get my grade up to a decent amount if they let me retake the exam and did well on it. With English, I just needed to have another shot at that last essay and pick a better subject.

Or maybe I should have just dropped out of school altogether and become a male stripper so I wouldn’t have wasted all those years studying shit I didn’t care about. Then again, it embarrasses me that my parents saw me naked when I was little, so women I didn’t know that were way out of my age range probably wouldn’t sit well with me, either.

So I’d already wasted four hours on this particular day sitting in a classroom and hearing shit I’d already heard, wishing I could be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anywhere was probably not a good pick for it, because that landed me at work not even an hour later. I realized I needed to work to help my moms pay for college, but was it worth it? I was working a job I hated in order to pay for something that was steadily slipping away.

And yeah. Moms. You heard that right.

But there I was, stocking shelves for hours on end while half a dozen kids started crying or throwing stuff all over or God forbid licking the fridge doors. The aisles stinking like some retarded old guy took a dump and kicked it under the shelf. People asking me were shit was in the store when it was either not in my department or when they were standing not even a foot away from it. There I was, working hard at this job every day since I got it with nothing to show for it but an irregular sleep schedule and borderline depression.

Okay, and maybe a couple thousand bucks to my name, but that’s not gonna get you far in a world where Donald Trump considers a million bucks a small loan.

Becca! What’s happening?

Classic, buddy. I looked over my shoulder to see the only co-worker I actually liked getting called over. I think the main reason Becca Armstrong and I were so inclined to like one another was because we had the same cynical outlook on everything. I mean, there was more to it than that, but that was the reason we tried to hang out as often as we could.

And yeah. She was kinda hot. What about it?

The one thing Becca and I hated about our job was that we normally had one thing to get done over the stretch of our shifts, but everyone and their mother seemed hellbent on stopping us from doing that, and the manager was no exception. I was watching from a few feet away, and I knew this wasn’t going to end well for either of them as soon as he started off with the Bill Lumbergh line. Thinking he was her friend when really all he was doing was making her want to break his jaw.

I’m gonna have to ask you to go ahead get a roll of paper towel and a mop and head for the restroom. he said in this weird sort of drone, not even making eye contact with Becca as he talked to her. Yeah, apparently a woman’s daughter made a little bit of a mess in there, so if you could head in there and clean it up, that would be terrific. M’kay?

Oh, God, he wasn’t even trying. He didn’t manage to turn around before Becca spoke up, and when she did, I already knew what was going to happen. She hated this job even more than I did, and I was honestly surprised she hadn’t raged out earlier. But I guess there’s something about human feces that makes people decide enough is enough.

Hold on, are you serious? she asked. You’re gonna make me clean up a shit-smeared bathroom?!

Please watch your language, Becca. Questions?

Rule one. Don’t ever tell a pissed-off teenage girl to watch her language.

You know what? I do have a question. she started. Can we put up a sign telling laid-back parents to not bring their kids in here if all they’re gonna do is throw shit all over the place? And while we’re at it, how about keeping an eye on that jerk over in aisle two? He’s taken like three breaks already and he’s only been here for two hours! I mean, fuck! Why aren’t you asking him to do it?

Right, see, the problem is…

Too late, schmuck. She’s already on you and she ain’t gonna stop, so just let it happen and pray she doesn’t start thinking of punching your lights out. Seriously, I’ve seen her break a board in half with one punch.

The problem is that three-quarters of the people who shop here are fuckin’ retarded, okay? I get that I work a lot and do my job well, but what’s with making me do all the unpleasant crap? First you have me freeze my fingers off in the frozen section for a month, then you make me work with the most unlikable bitch I’ve ever met in my life, and now you’re making me clean some dumb kid’s shit off the walls?! Pardon me if I’m not a hundred percent interested right off the goddamn bat! And no! I don’t care that I just called someone a retard!

I don’t know what he said next, but it wasn’t what Becca wanted to hear. Granted, the ideal thing to do would have been to simply shut up and leave her alone, but nope. He chose the long hard road to hell (REALLY long and REALLY hard), and Becca was happy to take him there. It was honestly a wonder she didn’t hit him, though flipping the guy off was just as effective as anything else at that moment.

Yeah! How’s that? Okay?! This is me telling you how I really feel! Alright?! she hollered, finally tearing her nametag off and throwing it right into the manager’s face like she’d once thrown…a certain something at me as a joke. I’m fuckin’ done, got it?! I’m out!

And she was off, yelling GET OUTTA MY FACE! at the douchey older woman asking her to get something off the top shelf as she made for the door. I was pretty impressed, and maybe the manager was, too. Either that or totally shaken in his dress shoes, but it didn’t take long for him to shake it off, and that’s when he set his sights on me.

Joey! What’s happening?

Hell no. Beck! Wait for me!

-----------------------

We ran straight for the treehouse the second we were out the door, calling our other friend Nate to let him know where we were. By the time we got there, he’d already pulled up on his bike. We all had the hilarious problem of never having enough money to buy anything to make our lives easier, and now that Becca and I were officially unemployed, that problem just got a lot worse. Still, it was pretty satisfying starting up the fire pit and tossing our uniforms in. At this rate, any bit of mild amusement would do it for me.

And then I gotta go home and bullshit my way out of getting chewed out for quitting. Becca said once we all got settled in up top. It’s like, why do I even bother?

Hey, at least you don’t have to go to summer school. I said.

Why don’t you just take a makeup exam?

I asked to do that, but they wouldn’t let me. They said even if I aced it, my grade would still be too low. It’s like seriously, man! None of this shit matters! I’m never gonna have to deal with it in the working world, so what’s the point? Why do we as a species keep making life more complicated for ourselves?!

Dude, I’m not even high and you just blew my mind... hey, Nate, are you even awake right now?

He wasn’t until Becca said his name. If there was one of us that never got enough sleep, it was him, but since he’d gone and gotten himself addicted to multiplayer PC shooters and pulled all-nighters on them, that was all on him. He slapped himself a couple times to regain full consciousness before looking over at us.

You guys got weed?

No, Nate, we don’t have weed. Becca groaned. Goddamn, though, what I’d do for it right now.

And that was where we were at. Becca and I (or as our co-workers called us, the Filipino emo chick and the Kurt Cobain-looking guy) out of the job, sitting in our old treehouse and staring at the TV we had without anything on. Yeah, it was just like the Green Day song. Call us pathetic, but I was perfectly happy with this. No aspirations, and no responsibilities aside from the crap I’d be putting up with for most of the summer.

Oh, yeah. That was still a thing. Never mind.

Then my phone went off, and I saw not the absolute last caller ID I wanted to see at that moment, but it was pretty damn close.

It’s Erica. I said.

So answer it. said Becca.

I don’t feel like it.

She’s gonna keep calling you ‘til you do.

I know.

And the more you ignore her, the more pissed she’ll be when you answer her.

Erica was my stepsister. My admittedly hot stepsister that was the exact opposite of me in terms of social status and personality. That’s not why I had issues with her, though. There were other ones I didn’t feel at liberty to talk about in public, but the one that always brought my piss to a boil was her trying to drag me out to places and events I didn’t like or didn’t have any business being at or (befitting a guy like me) didn’t give a shit about. I guess she was concerned about what I was going to be like when I was older if I kept up the I don’t care attitude about everything, but she was more or less commissioned to do it by our moms. I’d called her on it several times, but all that got me was a stupid ass lecture about how I wasn’t going to get anywhere in life if I didn’t try new things. Which I totally resent. I always try new things. Every week I have new bullshit to put up with either at home or school or just because of some random dickhead on the sidewalk, so kiss my scrawny white ass.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and answered her with a deadpan What?

Yeah, thanks for picking up after the fourth fuckin’ time.

I groaned in disgust, Becca looking over at me with a big old I-told-you-so look. I tell ya, sometimes even my friends aren’t any help.

What is it? I asked.

My sorority’s throwing a party. Jess wants Nate and you and Becca to be there.

That got my interest for a reason you’ll figure out in a bit, but it didn’t make any sense for one or two tiny other reasons, most notably being this one

I thought American sororities weren’t allowed to throw parties.

Well, we’re technically also a Canadian sorority. Besides, that’s more a guideline than an actual rule, and even if it was, we could just scream sexism. Problem solved.

I know a certain group of individuals that would jump all over that, but whatever.

It’s not gonna be all chicks, by the way. she said. Zack’ll be there, too.

And one of your half a dozen fuck buddies?

I dunno, probably. I could use some stress release, so expect him at our place once some strung up douchebag calls the cops on us.

Yeah, like I really needed to hear that, but at least we could be honest with each other. I don’t know what exactly compelled me to stop resisting and just say yes, but it happened right after I turned to Becca and Nate.

Erica’s sorority’s throwing a party. We have to go.

It’s not an option? Becca asked.

Apparently not, and I don’t need my moms giving me a lecture about real social interaction on top of bitching at me about losing my job. I guess I can’t say no if Jess wants me, anyway.

That little schwing-worthy implication was the only excuse Nate needed to punch me in the shoulder.

Not cool, man. he said.

Bro, I can’t help it if your sister’s hot, okay?

Becca stretched and helped the two of us to our feet.

We weren’t going home right away, anyway, right? she asked. Besides, first college party. Something to live for, right?

She paused for a second before she snatched the phone from my hand. Probably right when Erica was about to hang up and leave us alone for a while, too.

You guys have weed over there, right? she asked.

If you come, I will see to it that there’s enough weed to last you the whole night.

LET’S GO GET ‘EM!!!

-----------------------

Garden Sound was kind of a weird little place. It was one of those half-American and half-Canadian cities that sits right on the border between New York and Ontario with a couple bridges connecting them. It basically means everyone living in it technically has dual citizenship. On the one hand, it’s just a few miles or kilometers or whatever from Niagara Falls, which is sweet because...well, just go look at those fuckers. On the other hand, because I lived on the Canadian side but did all my shit on the American side, I always had to be carrying some Canadian money and American money, and because of exchange rates or some other kind of shit that makes zero sense to me, I never had enough money for anything. Not that it mattered that much. I didn’t have a car to look after or a bitchy girlfriend to deal with, and I certainly didn’t have to worry about an education fund. I wasn’t going anywhere for a long time.

So yeah. Even though Becca was driving and I didn’t have to spend jack shit, Omega Epsilon Saymsik on the American side wasn’t where I wanted to be. To their credit, they were for my money the coolest sorority in North America. They did a lot of good work for the community, but as you could probably guess from not really caring about the no partying rule and how the last word in their name is kiss my ass spelled backward and missing two Ss, they had the outstanding notoriety of doing whatever the fuck they wanted. It was open-minded rebellion with a light touch of feminism.

So as you can imagine, it made no sense for there to be two beefy guys guarding the door when we rolled up. Aside from the music, the party seemed more like a large-scale get-together than anything else, which suited me just fine. I had enough of a headache without hearing some shitty dubstep playlist on blast with sweaty college students jumping all around me, not to mention Nate threatening to cut my balls off if I flirted with his sister.

Whoa, whoa, hold on there, short and short on deodorant. one of the guys said when the three of us tried to walk in. This ain’t no place for you.

Yes, I’m short and I reek. Thanks. I groaned. We were invited.

You and every other high schooler that’s tried to get in. Go home, kid.

You’re like one year older than me, dude.

Then again, I wasn’t complaining. Erica was nowhere in sight, so there really wasn’t any harm in turning around and going home before things got out of hand.

Hold on there, boys! called a familiar voice. They’re with me!

And onto the front porch strolled Jessie. Like I more or less said before, her genes are pretty much flawless in every way. Her and Nate’s family moved around a lot while they were growing up, which ended up with Jessie being born in Houston and Nate being born in Chicago before they moved to Garden Sound, and it also ended up Jessie having a really sexy accent. Top that off with her and Nate’s dad owning a ranch outside of town and Jessie herself being one hell of a horse rider, and we have ourselves a true Southern belle.

So yeah. Bottom line, she was hotter than hell and she wasn’t exactly hiding it.

Hey, Becca. she said, cocking her head at a nearby table. Smoke’s over there.

And off Becca went singing weed to the tune of Infernal Gallop (don’t ask me how I know that), Nate glaring at me and pointing while he followed her.

Joey. he said. Balls.

I haven’t got a single solitary chance, man. Jesus. Besides, you’re the one about to make a pass at Beck when she’s stoned off her ass.

And off Nate went and there Jessie was wondering what the three of us were on.

Somethin’ I don’t know about? she asked as if she was expecting me to confess that she was single-handedly one of the hottest girls I’d ever seen.

The only thing I heard before I got lifted like a sack of potatoes was Zack Attack, boyo! Sure enough, it was Zack Adams, Garden Sound’s surprise of the century. As soon as this guy showed up in town when I was twelve, nothing was the same again. He was tall, he was loud, he had crazy green hair that spiked everywhere, he liked to break stuff more than the average guy, and he was born in a shitty part of the UK before he came here.

In my mind, the perfect role model if I wasn’t a giant pussy.

How’s me favourite jizz rag, eh? he asked as he plopped me back down after giving me several hard pats on the back.

You’re callin’ me a jizz rag now? I sighed. Never mind. How’s the band going?

Ah, bloody well fell apart last week. Val went all needy and tried to take ownership of the entire thing so we could do that experimental alternative shite. I don’t even remember what she called it. We told her to stick it.

Yeah, that’s not gonna come back and bite you in the ass. Honest. It’s not.

But who didn’t see it coming? Who did Zack like? The Sex Pistols and Metallica. Who did Jessie like? Aerosmith and Lynyrd Skynyrd. Who did Val like? I don’t even remember what their names are, but I’ll tell you they’re fucking terrible. Shame, really. The band was otherwise really good, other than the fact Val liked to keep the guitar parts minimalistic and damn near boring. And she couldn’t sing worth a shit. And she was the reason they never got any real good gigs. And she was a total bitch.

She was the reason they sucked in any way is what I’m saying, and God have mercy on the talented folks she decided to screw over next.

We got a new guitarist, though. said Jessie. She’s around here somewhere. I think you’ll like her, Joe. We told her a lot about you and she seems kinda interested.

I didn’t know why introducing her to me would be a big deal. I could already tell she was a mile and a half out of my league just from the way they talked about her. We found a spot on a couch where people weren’t knocked out on shrooms or practically puking up their own intestines and got settled down. I met Jessie through Nate and Zack through Jessie, and it was kind of a funny feeling having two people that were as cool as them take such an interest in me, but I learned to live with it and even enjoy it. They were the kind of people that never told me I wasn’t good enough, and I loved them for that.

And yeah, it did kinda help that one of them was smoking hot. The guy who’s about to jump up and do the Ken Jeong line from Community. You’re hilarious. Sit down, wise-ass. What didn’t help was them asking some pretty off-the-wall stuff. Oh, yeah. When I say they took an interest in me, I meant it, and that meant everything. What did that include? Well…

Joe, you still a virgin? Zack asked.

It was still nuts to me how open people were about their sex lives in college. I never got used to it in high school, mainly because I was introduced to it in the worst possible way, but…yeah. The less you know about that, the better. Seriously, bro. Trust me.

Yeah. I answered.

He gave me a look like I’d been infected by some kind of virus before he asked why. I didn’t know why he was picking on me since I knew for a fact that Becca and Nate were in the same boat and he’d never done it for them, but I gave him the same answer I’d given everyone else who asked me that.

I’m not having sex ‘til I’m married.

Why the fuck not?!

The real reason was because I had a basic faith that I wanted to adhere to that would put me above my nasty introduction. The bullshit reason was anything else or nothing at all (i.e. me just shrugging my shoulders like I did right then).

I don’t really think I have it in me for a steady relationship. I said.

Who said anything about fuckin’ in a steady relationship? he asked.

...indeed. But I’m just not into it right now. There’s too much going on.

Ah, that summer school bollocks, eh?

He offered me the joint in his hand. I waved it away and he passed it on to Jessie. To be honest, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure why I’d never tried weed up until that point. I had an uptight mom, sure, but considering there was a million ways around it nowadays, that wasn’t a problem. Maybe it was just trying to stay pure for some odd reason, even though the basic faith I mentioned didn’t really say I couldn’t have a go at it.

Yeah. I finally answered. I’ve been feeling like shit all day. You know Beck and I just quit working the store? Don’t tell Erica. She’ll tell Mom and then I’m really screwed.

Come on, we wouldn’t do that, hon. Jessie said, patting me on the shoulder and pulling me into a tiny hug (SCOREBOARD!!!) I like Erica, but not enough to sell out my favourite little man.

Almost perfect there. Had to throw in ‘little’, huh?

She laughed and shook me as she passed the joint back to Zack. That was enough to get me happy for a little while longer, but my stupid brain kept reminding me of that stupid school and its stupid tests and its stupid summer program, and just like that, my stupid depression kicked in again.

Thanks for having me here, guys. I said. Sorry I’m being such a sad little dork right now. I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with the whole thing.

Easy, mate. Zack spoke up after another puff on the joint. Just don’t go.

…sorry, how does that help me get into college again?

It doesn’t.

I must have pulled a weird look. He took one last long drag before passing the joint to Jessie again. Quick pro tip about Zack: while he may have been a total knucklehead, he was still a pretty smart guy. Smarter than me, anyway. When he felt passionately about something or when he was high as a kite (or both), that was when he really sounded like a genius. As much as I thought he sounded ridiculous for saying I should skip out on summer school, I was ready for whatever he had swimming around in his head.

I know you’ve heard this a hundred times in like every bloody movie you’ve seen, he started. But if I’m being frank, all high school is gonna do to you is destroy you emotionally and set you up for somethin’ you don’t wanna be a part of, right? The idea they have is that you’ll go to college, graduate in some field you don’t give a shit about, and then get some stupid office job or whatever to waste the rest of your life in. Sure, you learn valuable shit, but you can just go on the Internet to get that.

Though that’s subject to the hostile bullshit filter laid out across every forum on the Internet. I said, getting a shrug from him.

"Maybe. But it ain’t worth spending years of your life being indoctrinated into something you don’t want to be a part of, is it? Don’t get me wrong. Doctors and lawyers and all that are important, and so are the poor bastards workin’ grocery stores so other people don’t have to, but all people’ll want from you if