Chapter 1
Scorn and Unease

The teenage red panda fidgeted in his chair; his tail was wrapped around himself. For the past ten minutes, the drumming on the window was the only sound that seemed to exist. It had rained all night; it hadn’t stopped by the time he had arrived at school. There was no indication the rain was going to stop anytime soon. To say the mood was depressing was probably an understatement.
Everyone else was probably in class. As for Carter himself, he had been asked by his homeroom teacher to go to the teacher’s lounge and wait there. As for why? There were a few things he could think of. Mr. Blake didn’t seem like he knew the reason and was likely just the messenger. Preston’s messenger. That tosser was one of the teacher’s in charge during the ski trip.
Then again, knowing old Prissy, he probably considered himself in charge of the school and all the other teachers were subordinate to him. Maybe he thought he was the principal. As far as Carter knew there was no principal, there was just a primus inter pares and the teachers were all equal, if they weren’t just substitute teachers. Ultimately the school department of the municipality had to nod everything off.
Carter rubbed his temples. That ski trip had been such a disaster. He had never interacted with Preston prior to it. Then day one, he made it to the top of his shit list. The rat practically had a nervous breakdown at the side of the mountain, before giving up even entertaining the idea on talking the panda into skiing down the mountain. He must have never accounted for the fact someone could be so paralysed with fear.
Skiing had never been a favoured activity. It had been five or six years since the last time. His mother had been able to coax him down the mountain, somehow. Although the helmet was left somewhere at the side of the mountain, since she didn’t want to carry it and he didn’t want to wear it. The truth is, Carter had never realised that the fear would be an issue. It was enough to get on the shit list.
It was doubtful that was the reason he had been called to the teacher’s lounge. Not that the rat would ever forgive him for that incident. No. It was likely the damn magazines again. Sure, he had bought a pornographic magazine and ended up hiding it in the worst possible spot. Was that arsehole truly not satisfied after what he had done? Smug bastard.
After finding the magazine but before breakfast, Preston had proceeded to call him out and berate him in front of all the students. Seventy students or so. Even worse, there was apparently a second magazine found that had been ripped apart in one of the basement storage rooms. Naturally, Carter was blamed for that as well. Even the other teacher seemed to be shocked about the sheer ignominy of it all.
Plus, he hadn’t even been consulted, there was quite the heated argument between the teachers afterwards. Maybe Prissy had been convinced to apologise for it? That was highly doubtful. He had never been given a chance to defend himself before. He had nothing to do with the other mag. But, no one cared and honestly, he’d rather forget all about the incident.
No such luck apparently. It wasn’t enough that he was teased and bullied over it, by other students, who weren’t even there. This was such a joke.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a middle-aged rat carrying a clipboard stepped inside. He closed the door hard enough the entire school must have noticed. “Hmph... There you are,” he mumbled, before taking a nearby seat.
“Mr. Blake said you… uh… wanted to see me, sir?” Carter looked at Preston, somewhat incredulous, as he gulped. Yikes. If he didn’t know for a fact, the times teachers could physically punish students were in the distant past, he’d be positively terrified now.
“No, I don’t want to see you, Carter. There’s just no way around it.” The rat placed the clipboard on the nearby table with a thud. Briefly, the words ‘psychological services’ could be read, before a paw covered up the paper. Less to hide it and more for demonstrative purposes. “The school got a call from a parent. Their daughter brought a certain... incident to their attention. A formal complaint has been made to the school.”
Incident? What was it now? “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He said honestly. He couldn’t think of something at the top of his head. If it wasn’t the mag, what else could it be?
“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what you did.” Preston was raising his voice now, not helping the confusion. He pulled one of the papers from the clip board and turned it around for Carter to read, pointing to a specific sentence on the phone call transcript.
“Carter was mas-…” the panda began reading aloud, only to choke on the third word and proceeding to keep his mouth shut, as he continued to read. Holy shit. Yes, he was in trouble now. It certainly explained why Preston was unwilling to just spell it out. “I...” he began trying to muster a defence before he was interrupted.
“I don’t care about your excuses. The school is looking bad, so a course of action has already been decided on.” The rat put the transcript back on the clipboard and handed Carter the information on the psychological services. “We’ve made an appointment for you. Frankly, its high time you’re sent to a shrink. The appointment is in one hour. Get out of here.”
“But… what about school?” This wasn’t what he wanted to ask. He wanted to defend himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Not like he’d believe him anyway. All this because of the word of someone who got some information through the grapevine. Female students weren’t allowed in the male’s dorms by the school’s own rules. So how could she possibly know anything for a fact?
“You could say you’re suspended for the day. For good, if it was up to me. But the higher ups say they need the report of the psychologist. Now, get out of here and enjoy riding your bike in this fine weather.” He gestured towards the window, still getting hit by raindrops. Reluctantly, Carter got up and left the room, shoulders slouched.
Murphy’s law in all its splendour. On the bright side? No one can tell you’re crying, when you’re riding the bike in this rain.

* * *

Fuck Roger. It’s all his fault. Oh, and fuck Prissy too. Maybe it wasn’t entirely Roger’s fault, but it certainly made Carter feel better to think so. So, what if it’s just his own stupidity and he had no one else to blame but himself? He didn’t have to do what he did, but that would have had its consequences too. Worse? Perhaps. Embarrassing? Definitely.
The panda eyed the digital clock above the door of the waiting room. About five more minutes until his appointment with the psychologist. What was he going to tell him? Admittedly, he did indeed do what that parent had accused him of. Masturbating in the boy’s dorm and eating his own cum. It wasn’t entirely voluntary. For some reason, he’d thought it a good idea to bring his diary to write in it during ski camp.
That was a big mistake. Roger had stolen it earlier that evening and Carter had been begging him to give it back. That husky had been a pain his arse for almost a year now. As embarrassing as some things in there were. There were descriptions of certain incidents, he could not afford anyone to learn about. Fortunately, Roger had not discovered it skipping through the pages.
Roger had made a demand for giving the diary back. He’d dare Carter to jerk off in bed, with other guys being aware and was not allowed to refuse. The others did jeer and did not believe he’d do it. When he did anyway, no one really seemed to care enough to pay any attention. At least not until the panda came and Roger pulled the sheets back to expose the cum stains on the fur.
After covering himself up again, he didn’t want to go to the bathroom, so he’d chosen to lick himself clean, while pretending to sleep. Roger had been true to his word, and quietly slipped Carter the diary at some point during the night. That was supposed to be the end of it. But obviously, someone had been talking about it. It could have been anyone and once the word was out, this was bound to happen.
The door opened. A man entered. The mouse wearing glasses was perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties. A quick glanced above the door confirmed it was time for the appointment. So, this must be… “Waylon Tatham. I’m a youth psychologist. I’m cooperating with your school. You’re Carter, I presume?” He was incredibly soft spoken and his demeanour confirmed his friendliness wasn’t simply an act.
Making his way over the panda shook the offered paw and offered customary greetings, before following him and proceeding to the office itself. Which turned out to be a rather large room with a sofa, coffee table and chair arrangement in one corner, where they were headed. Looking around it was clear the age range of his clientele was larger, than expected.
“Don’t worry,” the mouse said after sitting down on the sofa, having decided that Carter looked a little forlorn. “I don’t know what you’ve been told. But first and foremost, I am here to help you.”
“Mr. Preston said the school would expel me, based on your report…” the panda said dejectedly staring at the floor.
Mr. Tatham sighed and rubbed his temple with his non-dominant paw. “I see. Oh dear. I can’t condone that.” He readjusted his glasses and took some notes. “I will be sending your school a sternly worded letter along with my report. Don’t worry too much about the report, there’s a lot less to it, than Mr. Preston probably thinks. Based on what I’ve been told, you’ve done nothing wrong.”
The panda perked up at that. “I’ve done nothing wrong?”
“Indeed. I’ve been told that a parent complained. They heard from their daughter that, supposedly, you’ve been masturbating in the boy’s dorm and, furthermore, ingested your own semen.” The mouse explained matter-of-factly and for some reason had no issue spelling it all out. “Is this correct? Or have I been misinformed?”
“I… umm…” Carter looked away not at all comfortable with the conversation. “That is… well, it’s what the parent said… according to Mr. Preston.” He didn’t know what was worse, his frustration about suddenly being unable to form complete sentences or being embarrassed about the nature of the topic.
Tatham chuckles. “I understand. Let me make this easier for you. The report I’ll be writing doesn’t contain anything we’re discussing, it’s a much more… hmm…” he gestures, before proceeding: “…abstract assessment. Whether or not you did it, doesn’t matter. The school overreacted. They probably knew it too and just sent you here to satisfy a parent.”
Just a pawn on a chessboard, that’s what Carter was. He knew on some level, but Prissy had succeeded in unsettling him enough to believe he was in trouble. Tatham had been frank, so maybe he should be grateful and tell him the truth? He sighed, taking a deep breath, before he spoke. “I was dared into doing it. I didn’t want to. Roger stole my diary and threatened to read it aloud…”
The mouse nodded, not even taking notes. “I figured it was something like that. Masturbating is a normal thing. Young boys, like yourself, discover it around your age. Everyone does it, even if they don’t admit it. Even Mr. Preston.”
Thank you, Mr. Tatham. That mental image was entirely necessary. Carter sighed and shrugged lightly. “So, does that mean I’m allowed to go now? I’m good?”
The mouse gestured to not be quite so hasty. “Yes. If that’s what you want. But tell me, there must have been something really embarrassing in that diary. Would you like to talk about it? Like I said, nothing you say goes into any reports. And if I can, I’d like to help you.”
The panda’s expression darkened, and his eyes became vacant. Memories were clawing at the edge of his consciousness, wanting, no, demanding to be remembered and re-experienced. He began to hug himself, before realising what he was doing and folded his arms instead. “No…” he lied dispassionately. “Just stupid stuff. I should probably just burn it, so it can’t be stolen again.”

* * *

Tatham probably knew Carter was hiding something. But he didn’t want to talk. Not about that. He’d rather pretend it didn’t happen. That it didn’t matter. Perhaps even that it hadn’t been happening. A comforting lie. It’s nice. It wouldn’t last. Maybe he should have taken the chance to talk to Tatham. As soon as he got home, he’d become painfully aware of the lie.
Even if he didn’t talk about that. What else could he bring up? The fact he’d been constantly bullied ever since he was in kindergarten. The fact life has no inherent meaning. The fact religion is a joke and delusional nonsense? Or maybe the fact he’s gay and will never truly live a ‘normal life’? Just… ‘stupid stuff’, as Carter so eloquently put it earlier. And that’s not even addressing Pandora’s box.
In the end he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Back in the waiting room he had noticed that pamphlet about IQ tests and Tatham offering them. So desperate to distract the mouse, he talked him into allowing him to do an IQ test with the rest of the time that was allotted anyway. It was the perfect distraction for himself as well. Especially, if there was math involved.
Scoring 137 on the test did raise his mood a bit. Tatham had cautioned him, that someone’s IQ was more of a potential and it wasn’t the final word on one’s intelligence. Carter never really thought about his own intelligence before. The trouble he got himself into certainly suggested he was more an idiot than a genius. Consequently, that number didn’t really mean anything. Besides he only took the test as a distraction.
The rain still hadn’t stopped, when he got back on his bike. He dreaded going home, even more so than having to explain why he’d been suspended. Maybe he could somehow get around saying exactly why he wasn’t going to school this afternoon. That is of course, unless Prissy called. He did call, didn’t he? That arsehole would have gleefully done so.
Fuck.