Opposites Attract

For as long as he could remember, Lamont Toucey had been raised by his parents by a very strict budget which included limited toys.  In his humble ten year old opinion, it sucked, a lot.  It really wasn't his fault though.  He liked to blame his parents because if they had more money, he'd be able to get that G.I. Joe action figure that he'd been begging them for.  Instead he was stuck with a few old hand-me-downs from his father and a baseball that he found one day at a park.  

The baseball was autographed by Babe Ruth and while Lamont wasn't necessarily a huge fan of baseball, he knew that Babe Ruth was a really good baseball player.  It really amazed Lamont that anybody could just leave an autographed baseball laying around in the park.  When he initially found it, he tried selling it to the pawn shop down the road, but they wouldn't take it because it didn't appear to be 'legitimate'.  At the time, Lamont had no idea what the word meant and the first thing he did when he got home from the pawn shop was pull out an old Webster's dictionary from beneath his bed (it was covered with inch-thick dust) and look up the word.  

legitimate (le-git-i-mate)
-adjective
1. not spurious or unjustified; genuine

The only thing that confused him was why would anyone fake somebody's signature on a baseball?  Well, maybe to try and sell it for money, but if that were the case, wouldn't the pawn shop owner catch it?  The sudden truth of it had hit Lamont like a ton of bricks.  That was probably why the baseball had been left in the park.  It had no value whatsoever.  As depressing as the sudden revelation was, Lamont decided it didn't matter; at least it was one more thing to amuse himself with when he wasn't at school with his friends.  

His friends were, for lack of a better word, hooligans.  They liked to tease other kids, particularly the richer ones, and steal from the candy shop down the street from the school.  That just wasn't Lamont's bag to be honest.  For that stance, his friends teased him, but they didn't shun him because he was just like them.  They all grew up in the same, well, shabby neighborhood that skirted the huge estates that housed the richest people of the city.  None of them had very much money and because of that, they all stuck together for better or for worse.  Lamont just preferred to stick with them at school so he wouldn't be stuck eating lunch alone.  Every kid had the fear of being friendless, no matter what their background was so it was perfectly acceptable for Lamont to be 'half' friends with them.

It was on a late Saturday afternoon that Lamont was playing with his faux Babe Ruth baseball without his 'friends' in his backyard.  He very rarely played with the baseball, it was somewhat hard to play catch by yourself, but lately he discovered that if he threw the baseball at the walnut tree in his backyard, a squirrel would fall out.  It become somewhat of a game for him to count how many squirrels he could knock down from the tree.  Sometimes even two at a time would fall out.  Every time that happened, he'd give himself double points.

Lamont bit his lip as he clenched onto the baseball tightly, eyeing a rather high limb of the tree that held three squirrels.  If he could hit this branch and knock them down, he'd set a new record.  With that incentive, he pulled his right arm back, the baseball held tightly within his hand, and then released it, throwing it as hard as he could at the branch.  

WHOOSH!

The boy's eyes went wide as he watched the baseball sail well over the branch he was aiming for and instead into the backyard of the house that sat behind his.  Normally, this wouldn't be too big of a problem.  He would just hop the fence of his house and the other house to retrieve the ball, no questions asked.  This time though, the ball had landed in the yard of a really big, nice house that was part of the Royal Oaks Estates that sat behind his neighborhood.  

As silly as it seemed, he was wary of the house of Royal Oaks.  His friends constantly picked on the kids who came from this neighborhood because they had so much funny and therefore automatically thought themselves better than Lamont and his friends.  It wasn't that Lamont necessarily believed this, but-

Okay, maybe he did believe it, but he couldn't help it.  If he had that much money, he probably would have that same thought process.  They had all the best toys after all, why wouldn't they be better than Lamont?  

The thing was though, he really liked that baseball.  It was one of his few possessions so he really wanted it back.  Better or not, it looked like he was going to climb the fence.  With that in mind, Lamont walked over to his own rotting wood fence and climbed it with ease, landing in the ditch that divided his neighborhood from Royal Oaks.  The fence for the mansion, at least that's what Lamont imagined a mansion to look like, was pure concrete painted with white paint and decorated with swirls of red.  He couldn't help but snort that these rich people would make even their fence appear frou-frou and better than his.  If he were rich he wouldn't care what his fence would look like, he'd just buy himself a lot of G.I. Joe toys.

Nevertheless, Lamont continued on his mission.  He jumped and caught edge of the concrete fence with his hands.  Tongue sticking out in concentration, he used all of his strength to pull himself onto the wall.  It was to no avail though because his hands slipped and he fell right on his butt in mud.  Frowning, Lamont recalled that it hadn't rained in weeks so there was absolutely no reason for there to be mud.  A slow realization dawned on him though as he caught glance of a sewer opening a few hundred feet away on his left.

"EWW!" shouted Lamont, jumping up from the ground and brushing the mud from his jeans.  His mom was going to kill him, especially when she would want to know how the heck there was mud on his pants.

Grimacing, Lamont tried once more to pull himself onto the wall.  This time he was more successful, much to his relief.  After pulling himself up onto his knees on top of the cement fence, he glanced around the yard, searching for his baseball.  He found himself much too overwhelmed though because he had never seen such a nice house and such a huge backyard.  

The house itself had to be a good four stories and it was all white and clean looking.  There was a balcony overlooking the backyard too.  Lamont always thought that balconies were only in movies and that houses didn't actually have them.  Apparently only rich people had them.  Just as Lamont was getting over the shock of the balcony and sheer size of the property, his eyes landed on a swimming pool as well as a swing set that was nestled in the middle of the large yard.  He couldn't believe that they had an actual swimming pool!  A personal swimming pool!  He only had ever swum in the community pool and he found it kind of gross cause of all the hairy men that tended to go there.

"Wow," Lamont muttered to himself.  "Maybe I'll have better luck looking for it by foot..."

With that thought, Lamont from the fence and onto soft grass the cushioned his fall.  Unsure of where to start, he wandered over towards a group of rose bushes.  Well, the garden wasn't much of a surprise at least.  Rich people always had roses and stuff like that.  Once he reached the bushes, he fell to his knees and checked beneath the red rose bush first, hoping that maybe his ball rolled underneath it.  He frowned.

Nope, not there.

He checked the next bush, a yellow rose one.  Much to his delight, the ball was nestled into the soil next to the root of the bush.  Lamont was about to grab it when something grabbed onto his ankles and yanked him from beneath the bush.  He let out a yelp of surprise as his body was dragged from the garden soil back onto soft grass.

Lamont twisted his body upward to catch glance of his attacker when he stopped sliding and found himself between the legs of boy that looked to be his age.  Except this boy was much taller than him, had blonde hair, and was really skinny.  A scowl sat on the boy's face as he glared at Lamont.  All Lamont could do was give him a sheepish smile.

"Oi, what the hell are ya doing asshole?!" demanded the boy in an accented voice.

Lamont's hands clamped to his mouth in surprise for two reasons:
1) That kid just said TWO bad words!!
2) He had a really weird accent.

"You going to answer me or stare at me like a moron?" the boy spoke again, his eyes narrowing at Lamont.

"I-I, uhh, hehehe--" Lamont broke into nervous fits of laughter, a habit that he couldn't help because it was something he always did.

"Quit laughing ya stupid idiot!" the blonde snapped at him and sat on Lamont's stomach with such sudden force that Lamont immediately stopped his laughter because the breath had been knocked out of him.  "Now what are you doing here?"

"M-my ball, it went ov-over my fence and in here," Lamont finally answered once he was able to breathe again.

"What'd you do that for?"

"I didn't do it on purpose!  Geeze, you're so rude."

The boy grinned at Lamont as if he said something very amusing.  This really annoyed Lamont so he just frowned at the boy.  What was wrong with this kid anyways?  Who attacked somebody and SAT on them for no apparent reason?  Maybe his friends were right about rich kids.

"Rude, huh?" the boy repeated Lamont's words, still smiling.  "Where ya live?"

"Huh?"

"I said where do you live, ya twat!"  he raised himself from Lamont's stomach and then forcefully sat on him again, knocking the breath out of him once more.

"Ow!" grumbled Lamont, cringing under the boy's weight.  He was really skinny, but that still hurt.  "I live right behind you!"

The blonde looked towards the direction of Lamont's house.  He stared at it for a few moments as if he were studying and memorizing it.  He finally looked back at Lamont, still wearing that stupid grin of his.  Lamont was unsure about this guy; he said bad words and was sitting on top of him.  What was a twat anyways?

"Can I just get my ball and leave?" Lamont asked, still frowning at him.

"Oh, sure," the kid said.

"Really?"

"No."

With that, he balled up his fist and hit him across the face.  Lamont let out a shout of pain when the boy's fist connected with his nose and blood came gushing out.  It was the most painful thing to ever occur to him.  It hurt even worse than when he fell off the swing and cut open his arm so badly that he had to get stitches.  

Lamont reached up and grabbed his nose, his fingers instantly getting covered in blood.  Another moan of pain escaped him as he looked up and glared at the boy who was now laughing at Lamont.  He immediately stopped laughing when he saw that Lamont was looking at him.  After only a moment's of hesitation, he once again hit Lamont, this time in the eye.  

"OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW!"

Almost instantly could Lamont feel the swelling and bruising around his eye start.  This was definitely worse than getting hit in the nose.  The only thing going through his mind though was why in the world was this guy hitting him?!   All he wanted was his ball back!  He believed his friends more than ever that rich kids were definitely worse than they were and he wouldn't blame them any longer for picking on them.

"Now, get the fuck off my property before I hit ya again," the boy snapped at him, getting off of Lamont's stomach.

Lamont immediately popped up, despite the pain he was feeling.  He took off running toward the fence, eager to get back home.  It took him a few tries to throw himself over the fence, but he managed to do so, splashing into the ditch's mud.  This time he didn't care, he just needed to get home and get a G.I. Joe band-aid.  

After getting over his fence and into his house, Lamont allowed himself to start to cry.  Never in his life had he been in that much pain.  At this point he didn't even care about the ball or why the kid had hit him, he just really wanted a popsicle to get rid of the pain.  

His mom rushed into the kitchen, where Lamont sat in the middle of the floor, crying and bleeding all over the place.  She blinked rapidly, trying to take in the scene, but quickly recovered and kneeled beside her son, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Lamont!  Dear, what happened?!" she asked in a panicked tone.

"I-I-I wa-want a popsicle!" he wailed loudly, wiping away tears and blood.

"Dear, I'll give you a popsicle, band-aid, and some ice for your eye when you tell me what happened!" Mrs. Toucey exclaimed softly, stroking her son's hair and wiping blood from his face with her dress.

He sniffled violently.  He knew that it went against all codes and morals of revenge to not tell his mom that the boy behind their house did it to him, but he also knew it was against kid code to tattletale on somebody.  He didn't want to be a tattletale.

"I-I-I fell from clim-climbing the tr-tree in the backyard," he lied, sniffling between words.

"Oh sweetheart, you really should be more careful than that," Mrs. Toucey gently chastised her son, but satisfied with the story.  "Here, let me grab a wash cloth and some band-aids."

"I want a popsicle too," he murmured after his mother when she got up and walked to the sink.

Maybe Lamont would just get the ball tomorrow, then he wouldn't be a tattletale and he would have his ball back.  He would just go to the house, ring the doorbell, and ask very sweetly for his ball.  Houses like that always had butlers, so the butler could even get it for him!   It was a good plan and it seemed even better as his mom walked back over to him with a wash cloth, box of band-aids, and a cherry popsicle.  

                                                                        ---

Sunday afternoons were always lazy, even for the Toucey family, especially since his father didn't have to work and his mother spent the entire day either on the phone or making that night's dinner.  It was only common sense for Lamont to head over to Royal Oaks and ask for his ball back.

After telling his parents a little white lie that consisted of him heading to the park, Lamont walked the short distance to Royal Oaks.  It only took him a few moments to determine the house that his ball was prisoner of.  The house was just as impressive from the front as it was from the back.  There was neatly manicured lawn with several varieties of flowers dotting it and the front door of the large, white home had a large sign that read:  WELCOME -- WORTH FAMILY!

Lamont assumed that the family's last name was Worth, it sounded kind of doctoral.  He shrugged it off though and rang the doorbell, hoping that an adult would answer the door.  When the door opened though, it was as if God had decided to spite him, because instead of an adult, it was the scrawny blonde from yesterday that opened it.

"Ooh, look, it's the idiot from yesterday," the boy said with a smirk.

"I just want my ball back," muttered Lamont, staring down at the ground.

"Yeah?"

"Well, yes--"

"And I want you off my property, but here you are again," he interrupted Lamont.

This caused Lamont to look up and glare at the boy, becoming really annoyed with him.  The boy just smirked and chuckled at Lamont, amused at him.  

"What are you laughing at!?" Lamont demanded.

"Your face!"

"You did this to my face!"

"Heh, guess I did, huh?"

"You're really starting to make me ma--"

The boy slammed the door in Lamont's face.  Lamont gaped at the door, shocked.  This was getting really ridiculous.  He didn't even DO anything!   Scowling, Lamont decided to forget about the ball.  He was just going to have to ask for a new one for Christmas or something, because he wasn't going to deal with that kid any longer.

                                                                         ---

"Lamont, dear, you have a friend at the door," Mrs. Toucey called from the living room.

He glanced up from his homework, surprised.  Lamont never had friends come over, ever.  Even if he did, it was never on a Monday or any other school night for that matter.  Curious, Lamont quickly got up and headed to the living room.  His curiosity was quickly alleviated when he saw the doorway and found it was the blonde boy from that house in Royal Oaks.  The boy was smiling very sweetly as Mrs. Toucey who giggled girlishly and said,  "Oh Luce, you're so sweet!"

Well, at least Lamont knew his name now.

"Uhm, Mom?" questioned Lamont timidly.

Mrs. Toucey immediately stopped giggling and turned her attentions towards her son.  "Oh Lamont, you didn't tell me that you had such a lovely friend!  If I had known, I would have insisted that you invite him over for dinner."

Lamont scowled at his mother darkly.  This boy was certainly not his friend; in fact, the boy never even told him his name.  He wasn't even sure how the boy knew where he lived anyways.  This guy was definitely bent on making Lamont's life miserable.

"Oh I just met him on Saturday, ma'am," the boy said in a very polite voice that made Lamont sick to his stomach.

"Oh, well you'll need to come by for dinner sometime this week then!  Mr. Toucey and I would love to have you over.  Lamont never wants us to meet his friends, so this is so lovely!"

"Mom!" whined Lamont.

"Oh, sorry dear.  Why don't you go out and play with Luce outside for a bit?" she quickly amended and gave him a motherly smile.

"Oh I haven't finished my homework yet--"

"Please Lamont?  I'm really lonely," the boy interrupted, a very sad look coming across his face.

"Don't be rude Lamont, you can finish later," Mrs. Toucey said, grabbing Lamont by the scruff of his collar and shoving him out the door.

"MOM!" shouted Lamont, but she slammed the door so quickly that she never even heard him.

Lamont scowled at the door and quickly turned to look at the blonde.  His expression was back to normal, one that absolutely radiated skeazyness.  Lamont couldn't believe that his mom fell for this guy's trick.  He was some kind of mastermind that was for sure.

"So, your name is Lamont is it?" the boy asked.  "What a stupid name."

"Not as stupid as Luce!" countered Lamont with a pout.  "How'd you even know where I lived!?"

"You told me, ya twat," the boy, apparently Luce, replied with a roll of his eyes.

"You punched it out of me!"  Lamont replied indignantly, but then paused.  "What's a twat anyways?"

Luce grinned devilishly.  "Ya really wanna know?"

"Y-yes," replied Lamont timidly, sitting on down on his front porch step.

"It's a girl's you-know-what!" Luce said, very matter-of-factly.

"EWWWWW! Don't you know girls have cooties down there?!" Lamont exclaimed, horrified that Luce had been calling him a girl's you-know-what.

Luce laughed.  "Boy, you're stupid!  They don't have cooties!  How else would you be born!?"

Lamont's eyes went wide.  "What are you talking about?  I thought storks brought babies!"

"Holy hell, that's priceless!"

"Th-that's what my friends said!"

"Hate to break it to ya kid, but your friends are morons," Luce informed him, sitting next to him on the porch.

"Then where do they come from?" Lamont asked, eyes still wide in confusion.

"God, you're fuckin' dumb.  Guys just gotta put their you-know-whats in a girl's you-know-what.  It's called sex," Luce told him, his face one of complete seriousness.

Lamont frowned.  "That sounds gross."

"Yeah, well, that's how it goes--"

"I bet you're lying," Lamont interrupted, staring skeptically.

"Why would I lie?" Luce snapped, glaring.  "Don't be stupid."

"Why do you gotta be so mean?"

"You're such a pansy," Luce answered, punching Lamont as hard as he could in the arm.

"Ow!" whined Lamont, holding his arm.

"Heh, that's my cue to go," Luce said with a grin.  "I can only stand so much girlyness."

With that, Luce stood up and walked away.  Lamont watched after him, still holding his arm and frowning at him.  That guy was so weird.  He just showed up out of nowhere AND he was a total fibber.  That's not how babies were made!  His friend Mark told him that he saw the stork leaving his baby sister in his parent's bedroom!  This Luce guy was definitely a lying jerk.

                                                                        ---

Lamont yawned loudly as he walked the halls of his school, heading to the cafeteria.  His friends usually met him at the doors of the cafeteria so they could all find a table together.  They usually all brought their own lunches because their parents couldn't afford to buy them lunch from the cafeteria every day.  Lamont had just spotted them ahead and was about to wave at them when all of a sudden he tripped over something and landed on his face, his backpack toppling over his head when he face planted into the floor.

He scrambled up and saw his friends gawking and laughing at him like he'd expect, but instead at someone next to him.  Lamont turned and saw that it was a chuckling Luce who must have tripped him.  When Luce saw that Lamont realized who tripped him, he grinned smugly.

"Hey Monty, have a nice trip?" he drawled.

"Don't call me that!" Lamont snapped, irritated.  "Why'd you trip me?"

Luce shrugged.  "I felt like it.  Besides, I think it surprised your friends over there."

"You're such a jerk!  I didn't even know you came to this school!"

"I just moved here on Friday, so it's my second day here," Luce told him.  

Mark, one of Lamont's friends, suddenly appeared at Lamont's side, glaring hard at Luce.  Luce merely just stared back, completely unphased by this sudden appearance, despite the fact that a lot of kids considered Mark to be the toughest kid in school.  

"Do you know this guy, Lamont?" Mark asked, staring down Luce.

"N-no," Lamont replied, nervously, looking away from Luce.

"Good, because this is another one of those Royal Oak snobs," Mark said, narrowing his eyes.  "If he knows what's good for him, he won't trip you or try to mess with you again, or I'll have to pu--"

Mark's sentence was never finished because Luce punched him square in the nose.  Mark had no time to react because the punch had been so sudden and quick.  In fact, the punch had forced him immediately to the ground, unable to move.  Lamont stared in horror as blood gushed out of Mark's nose.  He looked up at Luce who was shaking out his fist, blood stained on his knuckled.

"Dumbass," Luce said loudly and clearly enough for the rest of Lamont's friends to hear.  "Anyways, I'll see ya tomorrow Monty.  It's been fun."

Luce walked past Mark's unmoving body and shoved by Lamont's shoulder before sauntering by Lamont's friends.  They all jumped back, unable to react against the new student.  He had knocked out one of the toughest kids in school; they were definitely no match for him.  All Lamont could do though was just gawk and wonder what in the world would be next when it came to Luce Worth.

                                                                           ---

It was finally Friday, the end of the school week, and every single day Lamont had run into Luce some way or another and every single time Luce had either: punched, kicked, tripped, or insulted him in some way.  It was starting to get on Lamont's nerves and his body was paying for it.

After school, he had counted ten bruises, six scratches, his black eye had swollen to twice its normal size from being punched three times, and his right arm was swollen from being punched so many times.  He was still having trouble deciding why Luce was picking on him so much.  The only thing he had done was sneak into his backyard to get his ball.

Lamont massaged one of his bruises as he sat on his front porch as Luce suddenly made an appearance.  Lamont inwardly cringed, somewhat afraid of what the boy was going to do to him this time.  Luce did absolutely nothing though; he just sat there beside Lamont and remained silent.  He seemed to be contemplating something, as if he thought beyond what kind of technique he could use next to pummel Lamont.  Lamont decided to not say anything, for fear of getting hit in the nose or eye again.

They passed several long moments like that, sitting side-by-side, watching the sun set.  Every once in a while Luce would shift in his spot, his facial expression changing from thoughtful to scowling back to thoughtful.  Finally Luce spoke up.

"You're coming to dinner at my house tomorrow," he told Lamont, expressionless.

"W-what?" asked Lamont, stunned.  That was the last thing he expected Luce to say to him.

"You're going to be at my house to eat dinner tomorrow asshole," Luce repeated, his voice sharper this time.

Lamont said nothing; he was still in complete shock.  While shocked into silence, Luce stood up and looked at Lamont.  He said nothing, but gave him a curt nod.  Then he pulled back his arm, his fist curled into a ball, and thrust forward as if he were going to punch Lamont in the arm for most likely the hundredth time that week, but instead it turned out to be a gentle tap, as if it was just a friendly punch.  

"Later Mont," said Luce, walking away after this display.

Lamont brushed his fingers where Luce had landed the gentle punch, as if perhaps there was some evidence of this short, friendly display.  Glancing at his fingers though, there was nothing.  It was strange, this situation.  Luce had been beating up on him and teasing him ever since they met, but he suddenly invited him to dinner.  It was really weird and he couldn't understand it.  Maybe though, just maybe, Luce could be a friend.  He did invite him to dinner, so that head to mean something.  

Despite being opposites, it would be nice to have a friend like Luce.  Even though he was kind of a jerk, Lamont sort of liked whenever Luce harassed him.  It was so much different than being with his other friends who were so focused on being rebels.  Luce had a different agenda and he would be lying if he said he wasn't curious about it.  So maybe for not, Lamont could befriend Luce and see what can happen.  They didn't have to stay friends for the rest of their lives anyways, did they?