FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Good Enough--Side Story--Knowing You Better Than Seconds Before

If somebody had told James Noels a few months ago that he was gay, he'd have denied it outright. He had, after all, had a lovely girlfriend not too long ago who he still talked to, though only on friendly terms, and she still spoke to him as well, sparse though their contact was. And if they had told him that he would have a crush on a dyslexic bad-boy mouse with a noticeable attitude problem, he might've laughed so loud that the entire world would've heard him.

Now, it didn't seem so far-fetched. What had started off as a small glance across a classroom and a few sightings in a hallway had become something more. James was no longer sneaking little notes into Warren Makarov's locker or catching small glimpses around corners and walls. He was sitting at the same tables, laughing at the same (sometimes stupid or asinine) jokes and even sometimes tutoring this mouse in numerous subjects--like this English homework in front of them

"It's okay," James told him, watching the frustration rise in Warren's face yet again. "Not everyone is great at everything."

"Easy for you to say!" Warren snapped, stepping away from the kitchen table. He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a can of soda, popping the tab with a scowl. He took a long drink and let out a sigh. "You want something?"

"No, thank you," James said politely.

"You sure?"

"Yes. But thank you for the offer." James's eyes scanned the paper again. "Perhaps we should move onto a different subject. English never seems to do anything but aggravate you."

"No, no," Warren sighed heavily, sitting back down. "I need to get it. It's just a lot to get. And I suck at math and science and..." He took a deep breath. "How do you get all this stuff down?"

"Well, I spend a lot of free time studying," James confessed. "I don't really have much of a social life apart from you."

"Well, that's not true. You got Julie, Matt, Cameron, all of my friends is your friends too."

"You mean 'are'," James corrected gently.

"Is, are, same shit," Warren scoffed. "I don't English very well."

"You don't math very well either," James teased lightly. He began tapping the table incessantly with his pencil, a nervous habit of his.

Warren shrugged. "Guess I'm just stupid."

At once, he wished he could take those words back. James turned and looked at him with such a fire in his eyes that made Warren feel guilty.

"You're not stupid!" James insisted fiercely, jumping up. "I know you're not because you've made it this far. Even if it's just your disability, you can do this! You made it this far! I can help you make it all the way!"

"Dude, calm down," Warren insisted. "I was just... I'm sorry..."

James sank back down into his seat, amazed to find himself standing. "Maybe I should come back another day when we're both a bit calmer."

"Wait, don't go," Warren insisted. "Look, it's just... all of this and my parents getting divorced and then there's... I'm just a bit..."

"Overwhelmed?"

"Yeah. Way overwhelmed."

James sighed and stood. "Then let's take a break for a little bit. Maybe some fresh air would do us good?"

"Yeah. Sounds like a good idea." Warren watched James carefully and precisely pack the books and papers away into the backpacks. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"Why'd you start leaving me those notes?"

"Notes?" For a brief moment, James was unsure of what was being asked, but realization dawned rapidly. "I'd rather not go into detail."

"I want you to."

"Can we not do this? I'm embarrassed enough as it is," James said. He shouldered his backpack. "Look, I think I'll just go. I don't want to take up all your free time."

He made a move for the door, but Warren's paw slapped the wall beside the frame. James cowered back with a squeal, looking back at Warren with a strange expression. Fear--Warren recognized that much.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Warren murmured. "I just... Look, talk to me, Jimmy. It's been months since the last one and I kind of miss them."

"Well, now that you know who I am, there's no point in leaving the letters anymore," James argued. "They were just a little way of trying to get noticed, I suppose." He shifted nervously where he stood. "I wasn't sure if you would want a faggot like me leaving you--"

"Don't you ever"--Warren poked James roughly in the chest--"call yourself or anyone else a faggot, got me? I might not be gay, but that don't mean I'm some homo-hating asshole." James nodded fretfully.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

They were silent for a moment and James began to play with the strap of his backpack.

"Why me?"

James looked up at the question, then rapidly back down. Then Warren did something odd; he lifted James's head up by the chin so that they were looking eye-to-eye. Warren could feel the otter shake under his touch, but right now, he just wanted an answer.

"I'm... I don't understand..." James managed to wheeze out.

"Why me?" Warren repeated. "Why not someone handsomer? You probably could've gone for one of those handsome jocks that gets all the ladies screaming. Or, knowing you, you'd probably want some nerdy, geeky guy with a funny laugh."

"I don't follow..."

"Aren't you supposed to be smart?" Warren chortled. "Heaven help me, my tutor's slower than a turtle. What attracted you to me?"

"First, I'm not slow," James remarked, scowling. "And please move your paw."

"You move it."

James made a move as if he was going to swat Warren's paw away, but he paused just before he did. "I liked your nonchalance. You don't care what anyone thinks of you or what happens. You just like being you... That's what I like. You're loud, obnoxious, bold and everything I'm not... Everything I want to be."

"And what's wrong with you?"

"Well, there's my diastema--"

"English, James."

"The gap in my teeth," James explained. "And I'm shy, awkward, I have Asperger's and--"

"You have what?" Warren remarked in disbelief, wanting to be sure he heard correctly.

"Asperger syndrome," James stated.

"That doesn't sound like a real thing," Warren stated, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his face. "Who told you that?"

James scowled. "A doctor and I'd appreciate it if you didn't mock me. I don't make fun of your dyslexia."

Warren shrugged. "Well, I've just never heard of Asperger's before. It sounded fake. I'm sorry!" he added rapidly, seeing the anger rise in James's face. "Look, I'm--"

"I ought to get home," James said irritably. "I'll see you tomorrow for tutoring."

"Dude--"

"Have a nice day." And he was gone, leaving Warren in stunned silence.

---

"What the fuck?" Julie Tennyson gasped in amazement. Never before had such a sight been seen to her as Warren Makarov willingly sitting at a library computer doing research during his lunch period. She stared in amazement for what seemed like hours before she approached, unsure of what to say or do. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was confident that he was looking up a stupid video or maybe even some dirty websites, finding some way around the school's restrictions. But no... As she approached, she was amazed to see him reading an article about... Asperger syndrome? Was she reading that right?

"What the fuck're you reading?" she questioned.

He jumped so rapidly that the chair he was sitting in nearly fell over. She managed to keep him from falling, but the shout had echoed in the library and the librarian turned, shushing them angrily. When his heart finally slowed down enough for him to think, he glared at her.

"The hell are you sneaking up on me for?" he hissed.

"You panicked like a freaking maniac!" she countered in a loud whisper. "What are you doing in a library?"

"It's a free, open library. I'm doing research."

"On this mental stuff? You don't care about this shit!"

"I do!" he griped. "I just don't understand it! I can barely read half these words." He looked away, ashamed and she felt a pang of pity. "But I need to know what it means."

"Why?"

"James came over to tutor me again and we started... talking and he mentioned it," Warren said. "I said it sounded fake and he just kind of stormed off. He's been avoiding me since then and I... I don't like it."

"You don't like being avoided by your stalker fanboy?"

"He's not a stalker."

"Because leaving those weird notes isn't stalker-ish at all," she remarked darkly. "Does he still do that?" Warren shook his head. "Well, regardless, you obviously don't know what you're doing."

"What?"

"You have that same dumb look you always have when you're trying too hard," she explained. She leaned over and closed the Internet window. "If you want to know what's going on, this isn't working. You don't get it like this. You need someone to explain it to you."

"I'm not dumb, Jules."

"You're not, but your methods are."

"Hey!"

"Where's the nerd?"

"He said he was coming over later for more tutoring..."

"Then ask him then! You don't have to avoid him," Julie said. "Not like he hates you if he was crushing on you so hard."

The inflection in her voice caught Warren's attention. "A lady should never use such dirty language."

"A lady? Boy, I've done more than you want to know."

Warren's stared at her in amazement before he realized she was joking. "Whatever. I need to get back to reading."

"You're torturing yourself."

"For a good reason."

"There's another way to win your boy back."

"And that would be?"

"Do you trust me?"

"No."

"Too bad. Friday, you're going to spend all day with him."

"We've to be here at school."

"Trust me," she said with a wink. "This'll work. After all, aren't you going to the museum too?"

---

"Where do you want to sit?" Warren asked as they boarded the school bus Friday morning, one of two that would be journeying to the museum. Julie walked ahead of him and pushed her way down the aisle. "Back row?"

"No, you're sitting here," Julie remarked, pushing him into a seat.

"HEY!" he shouted but the squeak of surprise beside him made him stop. He glanced over. There sat James, adjusting his glasses as fumbled to catch the book that he nearly dropped. With the book safely in hand, he glanced over at Warren, who shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. "Hey... How're you? Doing good?"

"Y-yeah," James answered. "So, are you excited for this field trip?"

"Eh, history's not my thing."

They fell silent and Warren glanced down the aisle to see Julie with Quinton, speaking with him as though she had become completely blind to his presence. Warren gazed over at James, who was reading his novel. James kept silent as the bus started to move and Warren hoped, prayed, that James would speak first.

"I'm sorry," Warren finally said after a few minutes. James glanced over, folding a page before closing his novel.

"Beg pardon?" James asked, intrigued.

Warren took a deep breath--this wasn't going to be the easiest thing to say. "I know I was an ass about the whole Asperger thing and I wanted to apologize."

James looked down at his book. He opened it back up and resumed reading. "I don't mind. I'm not even angry anymore."

"Oh, bullshit," Warren scoffed before he could stop himself.

"Language, Warren."

"It's bullshit," Warren snapped, lowering his voice to a whisper to ensure he wasn't overheard by one of the accompanying teachers. "You've been avoiding me as much as possible ever since then. The only time I can talk to you is when you're tutoring me and even then it's always about the homework. You never want to have a real conversation anymore."

"There isn't anything wrong with our conversations," James replied calmly. He turned the page.

"Aren't you even going to look at me?"

"I could, but I'm reaching a good part," James answered, "and there'll be plenty of time to talk later." Thoroughly irritated, Warren reached over, snatching the book out of James's paws. James sighed in resignation, looking over. "You know, it's quite rude to snatch other people's things and it's technically a crime without permission."

"I'll give it back, but only after you tell me what your problem is!" Warren said. "I'm trying to apologize and you're not listening."

"I heard every word you said," James replied, "and can repeat it perfectly."

"Yeah, I know, a photographic memory," Warren said with a roll of his eyes.

"Not photographic, but decent enough."

"Whatever! Look, why are you still upset with me?" Warren asked. "I want to know. I don't want you to be mad at me."

James's eyes narrowed and he adjusted his glasses slightly. "Did you miss me?"

Warren's face warmed beneath his fur. "I... did. But I don't understand why you're not willing to forgive me."

"Do you know why I was upset?"

"You thought I was making fun of you."

"Exactly," James answered. "And I don't need that kind of negativity in my life again. It's hard enough being a loser. I don't need a friend to drive that sentiment home." He extended his paw. "Please return my book."

"I don't think you're a loser," Warren answered. "And I'm really sorry if I made you feel that way. I think of you as a close friend."

"Please return my--"

Warren thrust the book towards James, who opened it, flitting back to the page he had stopped on.

"I'm glad you think of me that way," James said after a pause. "I think of you as a friend as well."

---

The rest of the bus ride was not nearly as awkward, though James's attention was so fixated on his novel that conversation was hard to have and almost impossible to maintain. By the time they'd arrived at the museum, Warren had started to drift off into sleep and only managed not to when James nudged him ever-so-gently.

"Hmm?" Warren said.

"Ms. Garrison's about to talk."

Indeed, Ms. Garrison, their young fox teacher, had stood to address her students. "She cleared her throat noisily to ensure she had their undivided attention.

"Welcome to the Global History Museum," she announced. "Today is the only day you'll have to do your research here. Research for what, you ask?" No, nobody had asked but she had always tried to be dramatic. "Your projects, of course. This museum has a wealth of knowledge and artifacts and exhibits for you to explore! Your jobs are simple--choose one exhibit or topic and do a presentation on it. By all means, see everything the museum has to offer, but you must choose your topic and bring it to me. Nobody will be allowed to have the same topic as someone else. Now, for your partners..."

Someone in the back spoke up. "Can we choose our own?!"

"Well, I had these cards all prepared to give you each partners," she said. Perhaps it was simply the long hours in her classroom, but Warren was almost positive that it was sarcasm. "However, if you all think you can be responsible, I'll let you choose your partners. But first, everyone off the bus!"

They got off the bus and Warren's eyes winced at the bright sunlight streaming down. The entrance to the museum was immediately intriguing but James seemed to find it irresistible. With a camera in hand, he raced over to the series of presidential statues, eagerly snapping photographs of each one. Warren was about to walk over when he felt someone grab his shoulder.

"Hey," Quinton Black, a brown mouse, said. "You got a partner?"

"Thought you'd be Jules's partner," Warren said with a dismissive tone.

"Nah, she's being Val's partner," Quinton remarked. "Besides, we worm-tails gotta stick together, you know?"

James had turned back around, his camera in hand as he dashed up to them. He was flicking through his photographs and when he was near them, he thrust the camera into Warren's face, just narrowly avoiding hitting him in his excitement to show him.

"These are really good, don't you think?!"

Warren gently lowered the camera, eyes wide. "You can calm down now."

James was momentarily at a loss for words. "I'm sorry. I just figured you'd want to see. I love history, you know? And it's--Oh, is he your partner?"

"Oh, I see," Quinton said with a smug grin. "You want to be your boyfriend's partner. Planning on screwing him in a closet or something?" James's eyes went wide behind his glasses and Warren was positive he could see the heat rise in the otter's face.

Warren nonchalantly flicked Quinton's nose. "First, he's not my boyfriend. Second, I thought I was your partner."

"Change of plans," Quinton said. "You need the good grade. Better for you to partner with a nerd to get those scores up."

"Hey!" Warren began but Quinton was already walking away, leaving them alone. "Fucking asshole."

"So, are we partners, Warren?"

Warren shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

James sighed, his mind registering the detached tone in Warren's voice. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Dude, we can be partners," Warren assured him. "In fact, I'm looking forward to it?"

"Really?" James asked, his eyes brightening.

"Yeah," Warren said, backing up slightly. "But you're gonna have to calm down."

---

In any ordinary circumstance, Warren would've found any museum a bore. He had never had a particular interest in history to begin with and simply walking through the museum to read plaques and hear lectures was something he thought he would absolutely abhor doing. Yet he found himself listening intently to the lectures James was giving him as they went from exhibit to exhibit, James eagerly snapping photographs and taking notes in such detail that Warren was surprised that they were getting written so quickly. More than once, he'd taken a glance at the notepad on which James was writing but found the words so small that they were nearly impossible to recognize as even English.

By noontime, they had covered half of the museum's exhibits and Warren was quite ready to leave. However, knowing they would be there until the end of the school day (Ms. Garrison was determined that they got as much out of the museum as possible), Warren followed James down to a dining area on the ground floor, joining him at a table. James set his lunchbox atop the table, eagerly pulling out food: a sandwich, an apple, yogurt and a bottle of... juice? Or soda? Other students were entering in as well, some carrying their lunches, others having stopped at one of the food carts that lingered around the museum's exterior.

"Where's your lunch?" James questioned curiously.

"Didn't bring any," Warren answered. "I don't lunch very often."

"That's a very bad habit," James noted. "There's some food trucks outside. If you need some cash--"

"No, I'm fine," Warren said, leaning back in his chair.

"At least eat this," James insisted, handing over his apple. "You need to eat more. And eat healthier. All the junk food you eat isn't very--"

"Getting preachy again," Warren said warningly as he lowered his chair onto all four legs. He took the apple and a careful bite. "Thanks. Appreciate it."

"Always. I'm glad I can be of help to you."

He started to unwrap his sandwich with a smile and took a small bite. Even the way he ate was strangely meticulous, from the bites he ate to the way he dabbed his mouth with his napkin. Warren smiled.

"Hey, room for a few more?" Julie Tennyson had joined them, accompanied by Quinton and his partner, a shaggy looking dog that Warren didn't know, and her own partner, Valerie Lopez, a striped cat with that persistently smug expression.

"So, how's the museum treating you two?" Quinton asked.

"Pretty good," Warren answered, "although it's a lot of reading and listening and--He's the brain," Warren added, pointing to James, who seemed to wilt under the gazes of their friends. He gave a meek wave.

"So, brain, you liking this place?" the shaggy dog asked, his voice weirdly raspy.

"I do enjoy it, but I wish they had a little more on each topic. Everything seems to get glanced over a bit too fast for me," James admitted.

"Too fast?" Warren repeated. "You got more out of them than I ever could."

"Yes, well, I do find history quite fascinating. Did you know that--?"

"No, and I don't want to know," Quinton griped. "So, what kind of project are you guys planning on? We're doing a poster."

"Way to shoot for mediocrity," Warren replied.

"So what're you two doing?"

Warren didn't answer, looking over at James who shrugged. "We don't have an idea yet, but I can guarantee it'll get us an A," Warren said confidently. "Maybe even a perfect score. I mean, he's been taking some great pics and has enough notes on everything to recreate the museum if he wanted to."

"Wow... Can I work with the super nerd next time?" Julie asked.

"No, he's Warren's nerd," Quinton remarked. "And Warren doesn't share."

"Damn right I won't," Warren said boldly. Then, his eyes went wide. "Wait! He's not my nerd! I mean, he's not a nerd! I mean--Are you laughing?"

James had started chortling behind his paw, hiding that gap in his teeth as he always did. "I am. Forgive me, but it's pretty funny to watch you stumble with words. I suppose we'll have to add speech to your tutoring?"

It was a lighthearted joke and Warren smiled. "If you think it'll help. But I've got charm and charisma. Speech ain't no problem."

"It is when you say 'ain't', which I would like to point out isn't actually a word," Julie interrupted.

"I don't care!"

"And you used a double negative," James remarked, "which can be called a grammatical error."

"But I--"

"And charm and charisma are the same thing, aren't they?" Quinton stated. "So, technically, that's a redundant sentence, isn't it?"

"You can't even spell 'redundant'!"

"I can but I choose not to!"

James chortled again, hiding behind his paw as he listened to the back and forth between Warren and his friends. Then, he felt something odd; something pulled at his arm, lowering it away from his mouth. He glanced over at Warren who was still engaged in the conversation but was nonchalantly lowering James's paw.

Gently pulling his arm out of Warren's very light grip, James quickly pulled out his notepad, ripping off a blank page. He scribbled down a simple question and set it on Warren's leg with his pen. Warren glanced down and unfolded the paper, squinting as he read it: Why did you do that?

Beneath the table, Warren wrote a sloppy reply:_ Quit hiding from your friends._

---

"I don't understand," James said when lunchtime was over and they were roaming the museum once again. He had been staring at that note since Warren had written a reply. "What do you mean by 'hiding'?"

"I noticed you spend a lot of time trying to keep away from people," Warren said. "And I don't get it."

"What do you mean?"

"You're so freaking shy but when it's just us, I can't get you to stop talking," Warren said. "On top of that, whenever you talk, you're always trying to keep looking down or you've got something in front of your face."

"Well, I--"

"Look at me," Warren said. James looked upright. "I know you're shy. I know you have Asperger's and I know you've got that gap"--James covered his mouth with his paw--"in your teeth. But it's okay. Dude, nobody thinks less of you for it."

"Well, I..."

"I've gotten to know you pretty good over the past few months, dude," Warren said, "and trust me, otter, I like the person I've met. You're a good guy. I just want other people to see it too. And once they do, they'll stop calling you super nerd. It kind of bugs me when they do that. I don't like to see people making fun of my friends."

"I see... You know, I'm glad I've gotten to know you as well..."