FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I hate to say it, but I was about as equally captivated by the interior of that car as I was by the driver. My brain was going haywire over deciding where my attentions should lie: the pretty flashing lights, high-tech gadgets, and rumbling engine that vibrated deep into the half of my soul which craved torque and horsepower; or Red, who also shook me to my very core and made me melt like the rubber on a spinning tire.

I bet I looked like how I felt: Overwhelmed and completely out of place.

There were meters everywhere along the dashboard; a touchscreen visual display and control panel reigned in the center of the console, and, although I was incredibly giddy to press the buttons, I refrained. I'd probably eject my seat or something. The dash itself was a polished black material with carbon fiber accents, and not a speck of dust or a pad-print could be seen upon it. Red was a fairly good driver, and he switched elegantly from one gear to the next without so much as a tiny misstep; his timing was always perfect from what I could tell.

I shifted awkwardly in my custom-stitched, leather racing seat. It was as white as fresh snow, and for the life of me I was terrified of getting it dirty. It was insanely comfortable, though, but it felt as if it had conformed to the shape of a larger body. My back sank into a dip that could fit a man three times my size. The floorboards were the same, pristine and pearly, and it looked like a foot had never touched down on the carpeting. I felt really guilty when I gently sat my own feet down.

"Why are you sitting so stiff?" Red asked.

I immediately relaxed my body. His voice and concern melted me like butter. "Just...anxious."

He smiled sad and sympathetically at me, the muscles in his arms flexing with each turn of the steering wheel. "Please don't be. I don't want that at all."

I blushed under his gaze. "I...I know."

The car engine growling filled the otherwise silent space around us. I kept anticipating him to say what he wanted to say, but no words left his lips. He just stared listlessly toward the road ahead with his ears twitching in different directions. I shifted in my seat again, and his right ear popped toward the squeak my movement made.

I just waited. I didn't want to say anything. Here I was sitting next to him on my way to meet his parents. I would've been nervous, too - and I was - but I just wished I knew what he was so nervous about, and I wish I knew what to expect.

My tail twitched in the floorboard, and I sighed as I looked down at it. It was more contented than impatient, that sigh, but Red took it as me telling him to break the silence and get on with it. I hated how fretted he became then. His eyes grew big, and his ears fell back, staying pinned down and no longer swiveling about.

"I'm sorry," he groaned. His voice seemed heavy with self-frustration. "I just...Ugh."

I shook my head. A loose curl bobbed down and nearly poked out my contact lens. "No! You're fine. Just...whenever you're ready."

He relaxed then. His chokehold on the steering wheel loosed into a casual grip, and I heard his tail flopping against the side of his seat. He brought the car to a leisurely stop at a red-light, and he spoke as he looked down the adjacent roads of the intersection.

"So, my parents," he said. "They're...very protective of me."

My head jerked to take him in then. I knew where he was coming from, after all. This whole situation was a prime example of wanting to please not only ourselves, but a shielding mother and father as well. I found it kind of funny that macho, confident Red had to deal with that. I knew he could take care of himself, but parents will be parents.

I could have related everything to him, but I went for the inquisitive approach. "Why?" I simply asked.

He gave a halfhearted shrug then tugged a wrinkle out of his shirt. "It's a long story, but it's more or less because of my lifestyle."

The light turned green. The momentum of the car accelerating tugged me backward. "Because you're gay?"

His red fur flashed from a streak of sunlight passing through the windshield. "Because I'm gay, I'm in High school, and I play sports." He shook his head. "It's more because of football, though. I've had this masculine front for so long that others never anticipate that I'm gay. My folks were shocked when I came out, but they didn't care. They think, though, that if I legitimately came out my life would change because my team mates wouldn't see me in the same way again, that they'd become hateful and paranoid and kick me off of the team - or worse."

He said 'or worse' with a bit of bitter familiarity, and I frowned. "Is football that important to you? You're willing to hide who you are just so you can toss the pig-skin around?" And did I hear him right? "You said 'again.' Did something happen at your old school?"

A smirk coiled across his muzzle. "You don't miss a thing."

"Did something?"

He glanced at me unsurely, then down-shifted as we got caught behind a driving-miss-daisy going fifteen miles per hour. "To answer the first question - and..." He mocked blowing the car horn. "I'm not trying to toot my own horn - but before I left my old school I had recruiters from about seven different colleges looking to get ahold of me."

Whoa. "I had no idea." Now for the second, and most prudent, question. "So what happened? Why'd you come here in the first place?"

His voice grew low and rumbling. "There were a number of things. First, to boost my parent's assumptions, a rumor started to spread around about me on my old team. I'd never said anything, as my folks didn't want me to, so I don't know how it happened. Either way, I learned the hard way that what my parents were worried about - what I said before - wasn't just paranoia." A dry, rattling breath escaped him. "Things got out of hand. Some of my team mates heard, turned out to be extremely homophobic, and they took matters into their own paws and sabotaged the brakes on my motorcycle."

Electricity sparked through my skin and fur at the thought of someone hurting Red. I didn't know who'd done it, but I could've beaten them to death with a blunt object. "Did you get hurt!?"

He nodded grimly, and my stomach flipped. Leaning over, he tapped the side of his head directly below his right ear. "Look."

I couldn't see anything, but he was adamant to show me something. I ignored the pleasant sensation of my fingers against his soft fur and flesh, and I parted his hair with a gentle stroke of a claw until I saw what he was talking about. A sickening twinge passed through me from head to toe as I laid eyes upon the scar. It was scarlet and crooked and about seven inches long as I continued to follow it up around the top of his skull.

He pulled himself back upright when I couldn't stand to look at it anymore. "Not only did they mess with my bike, but they did something to the strap of my helmet. When I crashed it flew off and I hit my head on something; a piece of metal in the road, maybe. Luckily I was wearing my riding stuff; otherwise my pelt would've been peeled off."

I just squeaked in utter disbelief. I couldn't have formed a coherent sentence if I tried. How could someone do something like that? What form of senseless immorality could bring someone to think that that act was justifiable? Someone could have been killed! My gut panged. Red could have been killed.

"That," he continued as I writhed inwardly with both relief (that he got out of that scrape okay) and hatred (toward his former team mates). "That was just the first nudge, though. Literally every guy on the team got suspended for what happened because no one would fess up. Instead of hating whoever actually did it - I still don't know who, in fact - everyone at school hated me instead."

"Everyone?"

He shrugged, and his eyes closed for a second or two as if he was being pained. "The team was going to the state championships, and then, all of a sudden, they'd been suspended. The school wanted that win so badly, and, because of me, they couldn't achieve it anymore." He held up a paw and flicked a single finger up. "I went back for one day when I got out of the hospital - one - and got the crap kicked out of me. The stitches in my head popped open, and I bled so much that I passed out."

I'd nearly curled up into a ball in the car seat. I couldn't believe what he'd gone through.

"After that my mom started homeschooling me. She didn't want me to even step foot in a public school again out of fear that I'd be killed the next time. All of the media attention on hatred towards gays, the bashings, the bullying, the suicides...it drove her to the point where I could hardly leave the house because she was so terrified for me. If..." He gritted his teeth. I saw his jaw muscle clench through his cheek-fur. "If my father hadn't gotten hurt fighting...if he didn't need her to take care of him...I'd still be doing Geometry on my living-room sofa."

"Wait, what?" After the brief absence of my vocal chords my voice had seemed to rise to an all-time new level of soprano. Red even winced at my sudden words.

I mewed an apology, and he smiled thoughtfully and switched off the car. "You'll see."

I hadn't even noticed, but we'd arrived at our destination. It would seem time flies when you're engrossed in someone's dramatic life-story. I could've sat there and listened to him for days and not complained. This boy - he'd suffered a lot, and he hadn't let it get him down. Well, for the most part. I didn't like the fact that his parents were afraid to allow him to completely emerge from the closet, but - after what happened - I can understand their reluctance. Red had his own life, though. It was unfair for them to dictate it so strictly, no matter how good their intentions.

I'd keep my thoughts to myself, however. I was here to make a good first impression, not start a moral-fistfight. Still, I didn't know how I should act. Red's folks were apparently alright with their son being gay, so I was okay in that aspect I guess. I wonder how much gay they could handle, though. I peered at my warped, light-streaked reflection in the windshield, and, as I've done countless times before, I thought to myself, "What will they see me as? What will they think?"

"You ready?" Red asked excitedly, his hazel eyes peering at me intently, tail thumping against the side of his seat. He smiled, but the normally contagious effect it had didn't cause me to break out in one of my own.

I stopped wondering, and I nodded stiffly and unsurely to him.

His ears drooped as he saw the reluctance on my face, and he reached across the middle console and put his paw on mine where it was clutched over my knee. The warmth of his touch spread through my skin, and it was like he was transferring some of his confidence into me. "There's nothing to be worried about, I promise. They're not the kind to judge; never have been. Well..." He rolled his eyes. "My dad had as an awkward sense of humor, so don't take what he says to heart. He's just joking around. He had to learn to laugh to get through what happened."

Why would his dad have needed to learn to laugh about his son's troubles? That didn't sound like a very compassionate, fatherly thing to do.

I quickly learned, however, that Red hadn't been referring to his own situations.

As we made our way to the front porch of the two-story modular home I noticed the ramp that wound around to one side, but I didn't think anything about it. It didn't strike me as anything strange. Then I noticed the handicap button alongside the doorbell, and the mechanism that would open the door automatically once the button was pushed. The front door wasn't closed, so Red just pulled the glass screen-door that divided the inside from the outside world open and beckoned me in before him. I stepped into a wide greeting area, and refreshingly cool air and the smell of cinnamon wafted into my face. The floor was hardwood, a light walnut perhaps, and as I peered deeper into the house I could see random streaks of black on it, in the middle of a hall or winding around a corner. Red kicked off his shoes, so, to be courteous, I did the same, although I didn't understand the point of it since the floor was already riddled with sneaker-treads.

As we thumped up the hall I heard a clatter from one of the rooms off to our left, then there followed a steady, rhythmic rumbling that vibrated through the floors. I then learned that the black streaks weren't from sneakers, but from wheels. The wheelchair practically skidded around the corner from where I'd heard the noise, squeaking a little, and the man who sat in it could only have been Red's father. I choked on what would've been a gut-wrenching gasp of horror, holding it in as the legless Husky, who Red held a mighty resemblance to, wheeled himself with gusto toward us. There was a sticker on one of the handlebars of his chair, I noticed: Semper Fi.

At once I knew what Red had meant by saying his father had gotten hurt while fighting.

He was a wounded marine - severely so.

I could only imagine what had happened, and although I was incredibly curious to know how he lost his legs I wouldn't dare ask.

From his knees down there was nothing but the frame of the wheelchair, but the fact that he was maimed didn't seem to dampen his good spirits in the slightest. His smile was enormous and kind, and his tail, which stuck out from a split in the back of his chair, was a rich-red blur. His upper body was wrapped in thick sheets of muscle - his arms were nearly as big around as my thigh! - and his fur was short and clinging and bristly as if it had been buzz-cut. His hair was buzz-cut from what I could tell, and it was the same cinnamon-brown color as his son's.

As intimidating as he could have been, he seemed to be all the more goofy, a big kid at heart. I instantly liked him. I banished any thoughts of pity from my mind. I knew they'd only insult him, and, even given his condition, he didn't look as if he wanted - or needed - any pity.

"Well, howdy," he said with a quirky grin. His voice was deep, rich, and resonating, and I bet he could've beckoned a mountain to move with a single, gentle word and it would've complied without so much as dropping a pebble from its surface. "And who might this be? Sasha?"

Oh my God I blushed. He was so charming, and his voice was so like Clive Owen's. "Yes, sir," I said bashfully as he offered a paw and we shook hands; It swallowed mine whole. Like Red's had been, his was pleasantly soft, and he gave mine a gentle squeeze before letting it go.

"Bah," he chuffed. "This isn't the military, son. Call me Axle." His eyes popped expectantly as he smiled.

I wondered if this was what Red had meant by saying his father had an awkward sense of humor. Was he serious? Or was he being funny? It seemed a mighty coincidence that a man named Axle would end up having to rely on one so heavily. I didn't know what to do. I just chewed on my lip and prayed that the next words out of my mouth wouldn't insult him. If he liked funny then I'd try and be funny.

I turned to Red. "I wondered why you told me to bring a can of grease as a peace-offering."

He looked at me confused for a moment, and in that brief few seconds I felt the air thicken until I was almost suffocating while waiting for his dad's reaction. The elder husky just blinked dumbfounded, and then he awkwardly wheeled his chair backward and forward, the squeak sounding shrill and forlorn in the quiet hallway. He looked from his wheels then back to me, and his face was void of any emotion whatsoever. I got ready to either beg for forgiveness or run for the door.

I jumped as Red's father threw back his head and shook the walls with a belly-busting fit of laughter. Tears dampened the fur around his blue eyes as he clutched his stomach, his boulder-like shoulders jutting up with each cackle. Red seemed to look on in amazement, and from the way he smiled warmly at me I could tell I hadn't been wrong to crack a joke like that. His father sure was enjoying it.

I heard someone quickly stomping around upstairs. Red's father wiped his eyes with the back of his enormous hand. He smiled at me sincerely, his upper body bobbing from small, laughter-aftershocks. "You're something else, hon. Brave. Many a fur has come into this house, seen these..." He motioned toward his leg-stumps which were wrapped in some kind of black compression material. "...and slapped one condolence after another on me. You know how depressing that is? How annoying?" He waggled a finger at me. "You're the first to play with me, though, and you have no idea how much I appreciate it." He offered his paw again and I took it without hesitation. "My name's Luther, and it's nice to meet you."

"What happened?" A high, trilling voice asked from down the hall. All three of us turned to see Red's mother paused on the bottom step of the stairs, her eyes wide with concern. She saw me and her mouth pinched into a flat line. Her curly tail curled higher up her back.

Uh-oh.

"This is Sasha, hon!" Luther said giddily to Mother. He turned back to me while momma-husky made her way over. Red stood vigilant off to the side. His mother smirked at him as she came to stand next to Luther, and she placed her paw resolutely on his shoulder - which came up to her hip - while she glanced over me.

She was a beautiful woman, but I could see where the stress of all that had happened to her boys had marked her prematurely. Her fur was a soft gray - almost blue - but around her cheeks and on the bridge of her nose it was beginning to speckle with thick, white patches. She had a lovely, graceful face - a little gaunt - with endearing green eyes and a slim, pointed snout that sprouted a few deep wrinkles along the sides of her mouth. She had her long, raven-black hair tied back, and it waggled in its ponytail as she shifted from one leg to another. She was slim, but not thin - her clothes hanging loose - and her body had round, matronly curves to it. I met her gaze but couldn't hold it. I didn't feel I had the strength - or the right - to look into those eyes that had seen so much pain. The strength she herself exuded weighed down upon me like a cloak of stones. I admired her, but I was frightened of what she'd think of me.

I could have melted where I stood and seeped in between the cracks in the floor. They were giving me the once-over. I felt like I was being picked for slaughter.

"Rudolph, dear," She said glancing toward Red. "Luther, sweetheart," She purred, patting her husband gingerly atop his brown-haired head. She grinned for a second, and then sharply rapped Luther between the ears with her knuckles. He barked a gasp and winced, ducking as low as his wheelchair would allow. "I can't believe you didn't invite him to sit down! What kind of hosts are you two!?" She then shuffled around Luther and stood before me suddenly quite bubbly, her mouth pursed into a delicate smile. "Come on, sweetheart. We'll go have a seat."

Luther grunted as he wheeled closer and presented his lap to me. "Here's the best seat in the house." I blushed as he patted his thighs and beamed. "I got too excited and forgot to offer."

Red moaned in embarrassment. His mother swatted her husband's shoulder and he babbled a quick, jittering apology. She then tilted her head to the side sighing, and she clicked her tongue while looking me over again. "You are just lovely; really beautiful." I smiled awkwardly, and her paws flung up to her mouth. "Oh God, you don't mind me saying that do you? Rudy told us..."

"Mom..." Rudy - I mean Red - grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Oh sorry," she twittered.

"It's okay, Mrs. Kendrick. I don't mind," I said. And I didn't. I was surprised by myself. Coming from her it sounded like a genuine compliment, and I felt flattered by it.

"Oh, call me Tanya," she giggled.

Tanya yelped as her husband clutched her from behind and yanked her onto his lap. "The best seat in the house can't be left empty!" She exclaimed her disapproval, but Luther just bared his teeth in a jubilant grin and whirled about in his wheelchair. "To the living-room!" Both of them then rumbled speedily down the hall, and Tanya yelped as he turned so sharply into the den that the chair went up on one wheel, the rubber shrieking under the pressure.

"Luther! I swear to God! My floors!"

He just cackled.

I just stood there motionless as Red's parents thrashed about down the hall. His ears fell back as he approached me wearily, and his eyes were stretched so wide that I could see the whites. "What's the matter?"

There wasn't anything the matter. Or at least I didn't think there was. I mean, Luther and Tanya seemed to be wonderful, kind, and accepting furs. Why had Red been so worked up about what they would think of me? His mother called me beautiful for God's sake! And his father...

The fur along the nape of my neck bristled as I glared. I kept my voice as low as my anger would allow. "Why the hell didn't you tell me your father was...was...hurt like that! I didn't know what the hell to do!"

He stepped back, but even then he smiled. "You did fine."

"I almost had a heart attack! You can't just toss me into something like that without preparing me for it! What if I would've said something insensitive and pissed him off!"

He shook his head, but the disapproval was aimed back at himself. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I honestly didn't mean anything by it. I won't do it again."

"Please don't," I fretted. I smoothed my fur back down as he stepped closer. Once composed I looked earnestly at him. "Do...do they like me?"

His tail went into overdrive. "Oh yeah. My dad's never - ever - taken up with someone so quickly, and you heard my mom." Blood bubbled like magma into my cheeks as he leaned in close to me, so close that his breath tickled across the fur in my ear. "You're lovely."

I moaned inwardly as I felt his muzzle brushing down the side of my face as he leaned back. He bobbed his head in the direction of the living-room and held out his paw. I looked at it, but that was all. I just looked. I then looked at him. He was grinning, watching me and patiently waiting for my hand to reach toward his. For some reason the gesture was suddenly very confusing, and my hand twitched in want of his touch, but my arm stayed lax by my side.

We'd agreed to start as friends. I'd told my parents that Red was just a friend. I'd been called beautiful and lovely. What did that mean? What had Red told them? Did he tell them he liked me already? That I liked him? He'd told me his parents were afraid for him to be "out" in everyday life, and yet they'd practically embraced me in welcome to their home, and I was pretty damn gay considering how I looked. Did they realize how I would make Red look? Did they, and were they alright with that? Or - like they'd done with their son's life- would they try and keep the relationship contained? Now that I'd met them I didn't see them as the kinds of parents to do such a thing, but...

"Sasha?"

I looked him square in the eye. "Red, what did you tell them about me?"

He shook his head in surprise to my brashness, ears giving sharp little pops as his head twisted. His glistening black nose twitched as he searched my face. "I told them that I had met someone - another athlete - and that...that I liked you, that you were gay, too, and that you'd invited me to go with you this weekend."

"What about how I looked?"

He scowled. "What difference does it make how you look? I..."

My tail twitched between my feet. "What about what you said? I thought your parents were too afraid to let you come out? How would we work out if we couldn't show any affection toward each o..."

I froze and burned at the same time as he leaned in, placed his hands on my shoulders while standing on his tiptoes, and planted a kiss right on my forehead. He then slid back slowly and held me at arm's length while the warm ring his lips had made tingled like electricity on my skin. "Sasha, you're worrying too much." His hazel eyes burned passionately into me and he held me firm. "I like you; everything about you."

"You don't know anything about me," I admitted, my anger deflating.

"But I want to! Yes, my parent's fear for me, but they won't stop me from being with someone I care about!" He chuckled halfheartedly. "Give me a chance to get close to you - to be with you - before you shoot me down."

My heart cringed. He was right. What was I doing? I let my head fall. "I'm sorry. I just...get frazzled easily when it comes to things like this. I've...I've gone through a lot, too."

He bowed close to me. "I don't doubt it. I can see it in you when you get so worked up." He lifted my head with a gentle nudge. "That's in the past, though. I don't know what'll happen, but I'd like to see what the future holds for us. Work with me here."

He smiled, and I smiled.

"Boys?" Tanya called from the living-room.

Red huffed and stepped back. He held out his paw again and waited like before. "Coming? I can get my dad to come and give you a ride if you want."

"That's okay," I said, taking his paw.

For the next hour or so I sat and told Luther and Tanya about myself, and, in return, they listened without so much as the squeak of a wheelchair wheel. They'd politely interrupt to ask a question every so often, but other than that they just reacted to what I was saying. Red fell in alongside them, even. Like I'd told him before, he didn't know anything about me. This was as much an "Intro to Sasha" class to him as it was to his parents. Although I felt Red's experiences had been much more debilitating, he'd wince and scowl as I told about some of my most troubling experiences; namely how my appearance had caused me so much grief when I was younger. I even told them about my parents and how over-protective they were of me, and Tanya and Luther nodded in both mutual understanding for my folks and in sympathy for me.

After I'd had my say Tanya and Luther took turns relating their past situations to me. The first was about the motorcycle incident Red had already enlightened me to. Tanya nearly broke down as she reminisced over Red lying in the hospital with his skull flayed open, and bile rose in my throat as she got into gory details that I would've preferred not to hear. She exclaimed her fears for her son, betting my parents reluctance to let me date were birthed from the same reasoning: The world was a very unforgiving place and furs could be unbelievably cruel. I agreed. Like Red, I knew firsthand how cruel furs could be, but, after all that had happened to me, I didn't want the fear of others to turn me into a trembling, cowering mess. I told them that. I told them I still got scared, of course, but I did my best to overcome it like I had so many times in my life. Luther blinked and smiled gently at me. He of all furs knew about overcoming fear as an obstacle, and he hadn't let his condition destroy who he was. Tanya then took a break, and Red, a reluctant sparkle in his eye, went to get ready for his game that night.

In their absence Luther remarked on the good intentions of his and Tanya's decisions, but he knew Red was suffering because of it.

"He's been alone for a long time," he said bitterly. "I'd talk with him via Skype while I was overseas, and even then - no matter how happy he seemed - I could always tell he was hurting. There was always this miserable gloom lurking in the back of his eyes." He sat back in his chair and rubbed his temple fretfully. "I couldn't stand for him to feel that way. His mother and I had him locked a gilded cage. When this happened..." He wiggled his stumpy legs. "...it was as much a blessing as it was a curse."

I felt comfortable enough now to ask what had happened, and Luther eagerly told his tale about how his unit, while in a Humvee, was hit by a road-side explosive. He had been in the front where the most damage was inflicted, and, as he put it, "Boom-diddly-boom! And my legs were mince-meat."

I cringed, but he held up a paw while shaking his head. "It was bad, no doubt, but I wouldn't change what happened for the world." He bore that goofy, but sincere, smile. "I got to come home. I got to spend time with my wife and my son who I hadn't seen, or held, or kissed in ages. I got to comfort them in their agony over what happened to me, but I was more concerned about them." He scratched his left stump absentmindedly. "Rudy had been cooped up in here for too damn long. I made his mother see what she was doing by sheltering him, and we took the first step in changing how we treated him by moving here and letting him go to school again." He snuffed, closing his eyes. "He was an entirely different boy; happy - actually happy. Something still weighed on him, though: that loneliness. He never really tried to date because he was afraid..." He gritted his teeth. "He was afraid something like what happened with his old team would happen again. He didn't want to be hurt again, and I didn't blame him. But..." He pointed at me. "Then, after his first month here, he comes home smiling and laughing and skipping around like something I'd never seen." He crossed his burly arms and bobbed his eyebrows. "I thought to myself, 'Well, hell, he's smoking pot or something. What's going on?' But, no." He tilted his head toward me, and his ears fluttered as he grinned. "That was just a few days ago."

I smiled and my cheeks lit up.

He peered wonderingly at me. "It was when he met you. It made me the happiest I've been in a long time to see him so...so..." He scoured around for a worthy word, scratching his chin until one came to mind. "Pardon the tastelessness, but...gay."

I smirked.

"He was actually acting himself, and it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen," he chuckled. "His mother and I were just taken aback. Then he asks if he can go on a weekend trip with you, his eyes so big and pleading and ecstatic - we couldn't say no, but we wanted to meet you. We wanted to meet, as he put it, 'The most gorgeous guy he'd ever laid eyes upon, and who could kick him in the sack whenever he pleased.'"

I blushed so hard that I had to turn my head away.

"We didn't know what to expect, honestly," he continued. "But I'm blown away by you, Sasha." He peered kindheartedly at me. "What you told us about yourself, what you've dealt with; it's made you incredibly strong, and I admire you. I really do." He leaned in close to me and rested his elbows atop his ravaged legs. "Thank you. I know you're just friends right now, but..." He leaned back and winked coyly. "I'd be the happiest dad in the world if you became my son-in-law one day."

I choked in shock. I literally choked. No water in my mouth, barely any spit, and yet I end up hacking as though I'd sucked a gallon of pool water down my windpipe. My eyes were soggy when I looked back up at him.

"In all seriousness, though. Whatever happens between you two, I know Rudy's in good paws."

I was utterly baffled. Here I thought dating would be out of the question, but...

"You...you're saying it's okay? What about other furs finding out?" I asked.

He simply shrugged his massive shoulders. "It scares the hell out of me, but it's not fair to hide who you are. You helped me to see that even more. So, of course it's okay. I know you two would take care of each other, and Tanya and I are always here - as are your parents, I'm sure."

I nodded. I honestly didn't know how my parents would take this. This would be as new to them as it was to me. I couldn't help but imagine they'd be alright with it, especially since my mother and father have so much in common with Luther and Tanya. I think they'd get along just fine. I think they'd love Red.

No - I know they would love Red.

Greenwood wasn't such a desperate mission for their acceptance any longer.

A thought crossed my mind: why not hook my parents up with Red's? It only seemed like the logical thing to do, and I think the huskies would be wonderful company for my folks. Besides, it seemed like an asshole thing to do to invite their son to a cookout at the lake without asking them to come, too. I'd love having them there as much as Red. Well, maybe not as much, but you get my point.

Tanya came back in and Luther informed her of what he'd said. She beamed and agreed with every word her husband had said. Red then struggled down the stairs with a duffel-bag full of heavy football gear, and I waggled my finger at him and beckoned him over to me. He let the bag drop to the floor - Tanya rolled her eyes and scowled as it cracked against the hardwood - then he plopped onto the arm of the love-seat I was propped in. I whispered into his ear and asked if he cared whether or not I asked his parents to come to Greenwood, and he beamed sweetly at me.

"They'd love that," he mumbled quietly into my ear, his tail thumping against the side of the seat.

So I asked, and the two of them gleefully accepted. I was genuinely even more excited now.

They followed us out and Tanya begged for Red to drive carefully.

"Take care of my baby, baby," Luther said to Red.

I could've cried. I daintily whisked my paw over the Mustang's door handle as I realized Luther wasn't even able to drive his own, beautiful car. My heart then thumped an agonizing beat against my chest as I also realized that Luther must've pressed that groove into the passenger seat, and the spotless floorboard made all the more sense now. I didn't feel like I deserved to sit in that spot, but I reluctantly climbed in as both parent's agreed to meet Red after the game. They even told me where they were sitting in case I wanted to join them.

The ride back to the school parking lot was much more relaxed than the drive earlier. We talked reverently about what had happened, and I gushed over how much I adored his parents. He was ecstatic when I told him what his father had said to me about us dating - if that came about - and he told me that his mother had had a similar conversation with him while he was getting ready upstairs. Luther and Tanya worked in tandem it would seem.

For some reason the school decided to build our stadium at a different location then on school grounds - so that it could be utilized for a wide range of events - so Red dropped me off to pick up my car before driving there himself.

"I'll see you there," he said happily as I slid out of the Mustang.

"And I'll see you. I'll be the one cheering louder than Tory with her megaphone," I said with a wink.

He cackled, and then his ears fluttered bashfully as he gazed at me through the open door. "Sasha," he said. "I'm...glad we met; really, really glad."

I sucked in a huge, exhilarating breath, and then I crawled back into the car, grabbed him by the cheeks and kissed him on the forehead like he'd done to me before. I felt warmth blossom on the sides of his face as I smiled at him. "Me, too; really, really." I pulled myself back out. "Good luck. You'll do great." I then closed the car door, and my tail swished elegantly as, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Red place his hand delicately against the spot where I'd kissed him. He grinned, looked to me, and then he drove off.

I watched him go, and then once he was out of sight and earshot I walked to my car while unlocking the door with my key-fob. For some reason it wouldn't work, though, and, to my disbelief, I was shocked to see that there weren't any keyholes in the damn door. "You have got to be shitting me."

I fumbled angrily with the fob as the sun began to sink toward the school building at my back. It cast an enormous, square shadow that enveloped the entire parking lot; otherwise I would've seen the shade of the other fur pass tall and stretched over me as they approached from behind.

I didn't notice something was wrong until it was too late to react.

All I heard was a growling, menacing voice hiss "Damn, fucking queer," and then my head snapped forward, and the world before me erupted into dancing specks of blazing, agonizing light.

Then all was black.