Fan Fiction ❯ Almost An Angel ❯ Survey Says ( Chapter 5 )

The first week that we went back to school as friends was a major adjusting time for Michael and me. I invited him to start eating lunch at my table, and he started waiting at my locker after school so we could go home together.

The first day back was a major adjusting time for the rest of my friends.

"Hey, why is he coming over here?" Anna, one of the girls at the table, asked when she saw Michael walking over to us. She didn't exactly sound impressed.

"Yeah, doesn't he know that we don't let just anyone sit with us?" added Rick Flair, Anna's boyfriend. He was sneering, and looked like he was about to try and cause trouble. That would have been just like him, actually; causing trouble is practically a hobby with him.

"Hey, shove it, Flair," I said, glaring at him, then at Anna. Just in case she wanted to try and start something too.

"What's up with you, Davis? You know that guy or something?" Jeff McNair, a senior and the star of the Varsity basketball team, challenged.

"Yeah, I do, actually. His name's Michael Saint." I shot back.

"Michael Saint?" Rick asked, looking surprised. "Isn't he that fairy boy?" he sneered. Most of the other people at the table laughed at that comment, but I didn't find it very funny. I was surprised that James, who hadn't said anything before then, didn't think so either.

"What makes you think he's gay?" James asked. "Has he hit on you before?"

"No, but I've heard-"

"Screw what you've heard," James interrupted, turning to look at me. "Hey, Davis, did you invite the kid to come sit with us?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He's cool; I met him over the weekend and we hung out for a while."

James looked like his mind was made up. "If Davis says he's cool, then he's cool. Scoot down and make room, ya'll. And someone pull up a chair for him."

Anna and her friend Stacey were the first ones to move into action. That didn't surprise me; those two were always kissing up to James. Hoping he'd start paying more attention to them or something, I guess.

"Hey, Davis!" Michael said cheerfully. He'd finally made his way across the cafeteria and over to the table. "Can I sit here?"

James responded before I could. "Hey, Saint. Go ahead." He gave the others a look, and people scooted down so that Michael could sit next to me instead of in the empty chair next to Rick.

Michael looked surprised that James was being so nice to him. "Thanks, Sanchez."

"No prob."

Michael put his tray on the table and sat down. "So, Davis… Any homework yet?"

* * *

"You know," Michael said as we were driving home one Monday after school. He'd been eating lunch at my table for two weeks. "I don't think all of your friends are used to me yet. And I still don't think Rick likes me very much."

I shrugged. "Most of them think you're okay. James actually thinks you're pretty cool… Although I think that's just 'cause he thinks you're cute. I doubt he realizes that he doesn't have much of a chance." We both grinned, knowing that James, though he might have been my type, definitely wasn't Michael's style. "And as far as Rick goes… Well, Flair's an idiot, that's all there is to it. He thinks you're gay, and he's such a 'phobe that he doesn't care about what a great guy you are."

Michael laughed. "Man… I wonder what he'd do if he knew that three of his 'friends' aren't exactly straight themselves?" he said.

I stared at him. "Three?" The number wasn't matching up right in my mind.

"Yeah. You, James, and… Oh. You don't know?" he asked, looking kind of surprised. I shook my head.

"No, I just knew about James… Who else?"

"Well, I don't know if she's bi or lesbian, but I saw Stacey making out with a girl at a bar a month or two ago. I just didn't know Stacey's name back then."

I started to laugh, then thought of something. "Man, that explains the looks she gives Anna sometimes… I bet Anna's never even noticed!"

"That's sad," Michael said, shaking his head. "Poor Stacey." Stacey had been one of the first people to accept him at our table, and she was always nice to him in the halls between classes.

"Yeah, it sure is. Man, I can't believe I never noticed…"

I pulled into the driveway of my house and parked. Michael and I grabbed our books from the back seat, then went into the house. We tossed our backpacks to the floor the minute we were inside my room.

"So, do you have much homework?" Michael asked, sitting on the bed.

"Nope. I don't have any, actually. It's a miracle. How about you?"

"I don't have any either… But that's 'cause it's just four days until Homecoming. It's this Friday, remember?"

"Oh yeah… I knew I was forgetting something!"

He rolled his eye. "Davis! How can you forget Homecoming when it's all they talk about at the table at lunch?"

I stared at him. "That's exactly why I forgot about it. I tend to block them out most of the time."

Michael rolled his eyes and pulled me onto the bed next to him. "Pathetic. So, what're we gonna do until supper, then?"

"Have you seen Jeepers Creepers yet?"

"No way! I'm a major wimp when it comes to scary movies."

I couldn't help but grin at that. "Hmm… This could be interesting… Let's go make some popcorn, then we can come back and watch it on DVD."

"We're going to watch popcorn on DVD?" Michael asked innocently. I hit him upside his head, laughing.

"Idiot. We're watching Jeepers Creepers on DVD."

"Okay… I don't know how smart that is, though. I'll be squeezing your arm off half the time," he warned me.

"Somehow, I don't think I'll mind very much."

He blushed, I laughed even harder, and we went downstairs to the kitchen.

* * *

"It just had to start raining, didn't it?" Michael sighed as we waited for the popcorn to finish. "The weather guy said there was only a ten percent chance of rain this morning, and it would lessen as the day went on!"

"Michael, this is North-Central Texas! The weather's always like that, you should know that by now! And besides, when is the weather guy ever right?" I said, only halfway joking. It was the truth.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Cloudy and snowing one day, 80 degrees and sunny the next. That's our weather." He made a face and sighed. "Still… It'll make the room that much darker during the movie. You aren't going to turn off all the lights, are you?" He sounded kind of scared.

"Hmm… Depends…"

"On what?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"Davis!"

"Come on, baby," I said, lowering my voice and sounding seductive. "Don't you wanna be in a dark room with me? Alone?" There was a split-second pause, then we both burst out laughing at my overdone acting. The microwave beeped, letting us know the popcorn was done.

"Come on," Michael said, opening the microwave and grabbing the popcorn. "Get a bowl for this, and I'll grab some sodas." I nodded, and we both got the snacks ready.

"Race you to my room!" I shouted once the popcorn was in a bowl. I started running towards the stairs before I got a response.

"Cheater!" Michael yelled, dashing after me. We both dashed up the stairs as fast as we could, Michael just a few steps behind me the entire way. If Mom had been home, she would have yelled at us for being so noisy.

It took me a second or two to get my bedroom door open once I reached it, and that was all Michael needed to catch up. I took one step into the room, then got tackled onto the bed. Popcorn went flying across the room, and the two Coke bottles rolled onto the floor.

"I win!" I cheered. "Thanks for the help, Michael!"

"No way! I tackled you, so I win!" Michael protested, punching me in the side.

"Fine, fine. It's a tie, then."

Michael considered that for a few seconds. "Well, I guess that'll work… this time. You won't be so lucky next time, though."

"Uh-huh. Yeah. Real intimidating words there, pal. I'm so scared."

He grabbed a pillow that was lying nearby, then whacked me in the face with it. "Shut up, and let's just watch the movie, okay?" he said, staring down at me.

"I thought you don't like scary movies?" I asked, grinning.

"I don't, but at least you'll have to keep your mouth shut to hear what's being said."

"Not necessarily…"

"You will if you want me to watch it with you!"

"Okay, I'll be a good boy, Daddy."

"That's what I thought," Michael smirked, scooting out of my way. "Now, go pick up that popcorn you spilled, and turn the movie on."

Man. What a jerk! I laughed and did what he said anyways.

* * *

Michael was right; he really was a major wimp when it came to scary movies. The minute that the evil car-thing started driving down the road at the beginning of the movie, he grabbed my hand and squeezed until it was chalk white instead of the light tan color that the rest of my body was. I could barely keep myself from laughing at him.

And when he got his first view of the inside of that cave? Right when the guy found the dying dude? Michael hid his face against my chest. Actually, that's the way it was most of the movie, to tell you the truth. He was halfway on my lap, squeezing me to death, his face against my chest, and only peeking at the TV every now and then.

It was great; I have to admit it. I mean, sure, he's just my friend, but how else was I supposed to react when there was a gorgeous guy on my lap, especially one that practically threw himself into my arms? It was impossible not to like it.

We were lucky, though. Not two minutes into the ending credits, the bedroom door swung open and my little brother walked in. Thank God that Michael had just decided to get off the bed--and my lap--to stand up and stretch.

I had long since decided that I didn't want anyone walking in on me when I was looking or acting even remotely gay, and Michael on my lap definitely would have screwed up the common view of my sexuality.

I mean, come on! What would I have said? "Oh, hey Jason! What? Oh, Michael just got scared 'cause of the movie. Yeah, guys always sit on each other's laps once you get older. Trust me, I know!"

Yeah right. Jason may not always be the brightest crayon in the box, but he's not stupid. I don't think that even Esther would have fallen for a lame excuse like that.

Call it cowardly, hypocritical, whatever you want… But I just wasn't ready for my family to find out that I liked other guys. Especially not by walking in on me with one. I wanted to come out, but on my own terms, not on accident.

"I'm home," Jason announced, walking into the room. He took a look at the TV, listened to the song playing for a couple of seconds, then glared at me. "You watched Jeepers Creepers without me again? Man, that's wrong! You said you'd wait next time so that I could watch it with you!" he snapped.

I shrugged. "Sorry, guess I forgot." I really had, actually. "We can watch it together some other time, though."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. I bet you'll just 'forget' again."

He probably wouldn't have made such a big deal out of not being able to spend time with me normally, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Mom wouldn't let Jason watch R-rated movies by himself until he was 14, so he had to get someone old enough to watch with him. When it came to scary movies, I was always his best bet.

Michael walked over to my brother, smiling. "Don't worry, Jason. Unlike that jerk of a brother of yours, I remember my promises, and I say we can all watch it together sometime, okay? Just make sure you give me enough advance notice to get my homework done beforehand," he proposed.

Jason stared at Michael for a few seconds, looking pretty skeptical, then finally broke down and just grinned. "Okay. I may not be able to trust Davis, but you seem cool enough so far. I'll hold you to that promise though."

"Sure thing, kid," I said, getting up off the bed. I already looked bad enough compared to Michael; there was no point making myself look even worse. "Now get out!"

"Ah, the wonders of brotherly love in action." Michael commented, smirking, as I shoved Jason out of my room.

"Jerk! I'm gonna tell Mom that you're pushing me around again!" Jason yelled from the other side of the door.

I shrugged. "So what?" I shouted back. "Go ahead. I'll just tell her about the collection of Playboys underneath your mattress!"

Jason didn't say anything for a few second, but then the door to my bedroom swung open, revealing my angry, red-faced little brother. "How'd you know about those?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I smirked. "Now get out, and don't try threatening me anymore."

Jason hurried to leave the room. I heard his footsteps heading down the hall, the creak of hinges as he opened his bedroom door, then a loud slam as he closed it behind himself.

"So…" Michael said a few seconds later, sounding curious. "How did you know about the Playboys under his mattress?"

I grinned wickedly and winked. "I didn't," I revealed. "Haven't you ever heard of bluffing?"

* * *

That Wednesday night, after supper, Michael and I were lying on my bed, doing our homework. We didn't have much; I had a few math problems to do, and he was reading ahead in English. My stereo was turned on, and "Papercut" by Linkin Park was blaring out of the speakers; I had in their CD, Hybrid Theory. It was kind of addicting, actually; we'd listened to the entire thing twice already, just that night.

I finished scribbling down the answer to my last math question, then shoved the paper into the book and pushed the book off the bed. It hit the ground with a soft thud, and I pushed my pencil after it.

"Finished?" Michael asked me, looking up from his English. I nodded.

"Yeah, I actually didn't have all that many problems to start with. Just ten of them, and they were all pretty easy."

I hadn't actually expected my homework to be hard. I'd made it through Algebra, Algebra II, and Geometry without too much trouble, so Math Models was no problem. I was just taking it so I wouldn't get out of practice at doing math; the idea was that college wouldn't hit me so hard that way once I graduated.

"That's cool. I'm almost done too." Michael nodded. "Hey, what time is it, anyways?"

I checked my watch. "It's only 9:15." I told him.

"I should be finished by 9:30, then. Don't go anywhere; I want to talk to you once I'm done with this," Michael requested.

I thought that was kind of a weird thing to ask of me, but I shrugged and nodded anyways. "Okay." I was quiet for a few seconds, but my curiosity got the better of me. "What about?"

"School," he replied, sounding kind of distracted. He was still focusing on his homework. "And your friends. And stuff," He tagged on after a few more seconds.

"What about them?" I prodded after a few more seconds. I've never been that good at staying quiet when I want to know something.

"Davis! Just shut up for a second, let me finish my homework, and I'll tell you," Michael snapped. I guess I must've looked like he'd hurt my feelings--which, actually, he kinda had-since a split-second later he added, in a much nicer voice, "Okay? Just a few minutes longer."

I just shrugged and nodded. "Okay, whatever."

While he was finishing up the chapter he was reading, I decided to pursue what was quickly becoming my favorite hobby: Michael-watching.

Okay, I guess that must sound kind of weird, but… It really isn't. I mean, it's not like I'm some peeping tom that watches him all the time or anything. It's just that, if the opportunity to just watch him presents itself, I take advantage of it. And what's so wrong with that?

Apparently Michael finished reading sooner than I thought, and didn't bother to tell me, since the next thing I knew he asked, "Are you done staring at me now, or should I start posing for you?"

I'm pretty sure that I blushed when he said that. I don't normally blush all that easily, but I didn't expect to actually get caught staring at him, so…

"I'm done for now," I said as soon as I could think of a reply. "But if you're offering to pose, I'll bring a camera next time, and tell you in advance."

Michael grinned. "How thoughtful of you. And what type of outfit should I wear?" He'd decided to play along with my little game, which made me grin.

"Oh, I don't know. Just whatever… as long as 'whatever' means really skimpy or extremely tight. Or both."

"What about leather?" he suggested with a grin. My eyebrows shot up at that one, and I knew it.

"I never thought you'd be into that type of stuff. I always thought you'd be more the 'silk sheets and expensive wine' type," I teased.

Michael grinned at me. "Oh, silk sheets and expensive wine are great… But I have some sort of weird, unexplainable attraction to leather, whips, and chains." He paused for a few seconds, and his grin got even wider. "Besides… Who says you can't have a combination of the two? Personally, I think that'd be great."

"I'll be sure to remember that," I promised him with an almost evil grin and a wink. Michael winked back at me.

"I'm sure you will. Now… About what I wanted to talk about?"

It didn't take me long to sober up; after all, I wanted to know just what was bothering him about school. "Yeah? What is it?"

Michael sighed and pushed the book he'd just stopped reading off of the bed. "It's nothing big, really," he began with a shrug. "It's just… I really don't think that the other people at the table like me. Every day at lunch I feel like I've been caught invading enemy territory and been forced to sit around with a bunch of enemy soldiers." He stopped for a second, then added, "And a few fellow POWs in disguise, of course." I figured he was talking about James, Stacey, and me.

I hate to admit it, but I knew exactly what he meant. Ever since Michael had started sitting at our table, some of the others, namely Rick and a few of his buddies, decided that it would be fun to see who could come up with the most anti-gay comments during lunch. I was used to hearing a few random remarks from them, but that wasn't anything weird. Most guys say stuff like that every now and then. But what they had started doing…

It was just wrong. They were going out of their way to make Michael feel like he didn't belong. Every time they said something about a "fag" or "queer" they always looked straight at him. You would have had to been blind, deaf, and dumb to not notice what they thought of him.

"Yeah. I've noticed the way Rick and some of his friends have been treating you, but I wasn't sure how bad it bothered you… Sorry, I should have asked how you felt about it earlier," I apologized. I felt majorly guilty about it; after all, I was the one that invited him over to the table.

Michael smiled, but it wasn't as cheerful as usual. "It's okay," he said with a shrug. He actually sounded almost sad, if you ask me, and that made me feel even worse.

"No, it's not," I said, shaking my head. "I'm going to say something to them, and give them a few days to see if they get any better. If they don't…" I stopped for a second and shrugged. "Well, we can always find someplace else to sit, you know."

"You don't need to do that, you know. They might get suspicious of you or something."

I stared at him, one eyebrow raised, then laughed a little. It wasn't what I'd call a happy laugh. "You think I actually care what those jerks think?"

"No, not really…"

"Then it doesn't matter. I'll talk to them tomorrow."

Michael smiled again, and this time it looked a lot more real, and a lot happier. "Thanks, Davis," he said, looking straight into my eyes.

"No problem, Michael," I replied.

I felt a little better once I'd made my decision. I hoped that he felt at least a little better too.

~ ~ ~

"So, where's Fairy-Boy today?" Rick asked me the next day. Michael hadn't arrived at the table yet, even though it was already ten minutes into lunch.

"If you're talking about Michael, then call him by his name," I said, glaring at Rick and trying to keep my voice sounding at least halfway polite.

"Fine. Where's Michael?" Rick somehow made Michael's name sound like something filthy and I could barely keep myself from punching his lights out.

"Not that you really care, but he's probably still in the line," I told him, making my voice sound as cold as I could get it. "And since we're talking about him anyways… You and your buddies need to just leave him alone, Rick." I glared at Rick, then at the two guys sitting on either side of him: Cody and Darek.

"Oh yeah? And just why do we need to do that?" Cody asked, leaning forward and cracking his knuckles one by one. He played defense on the Varsity football team, so even I had to admit that he looked kind of scary. Okay, he looked really scary.

Not that a little intimidation stopped me from telling the three of them exactly why, anyways. "It's pretty simple, actually. First off, he's my friend, and I don't like people insulting him when I'm around. Second, you're starting to make me think that the three of you are gay, with all the attention you pay to a guy you call "queer." And third…"

A smirk popped up on my face, even though I seriously tried not to let it. Smiling seemed like a safety hazard, considering the guys in front of me, but apparently my body didn't care what my mind told it. "I just don't want to listen to you jerks talk any more than I have to."

All three of their faces turned a splotchy red, their hands clenched into fists, and their mouths moved without words coming out. To say they were mad would probably be an understatement.

I figured that it would be best if I made a smooth getaway, so I stood up with my tray, shoved my chair back, and started walking away. "See you later, James," I said over my shoulder. He looked like he was about to laugh, but apparently he had more self-control than I did.

"Later, Davis." I walked a few more steps before he yelled out, "And say hi to Michael for me too, would ya?"

I waited at the exit of the lunch line for Michael to get out so that we could find a new table together. He only looked halfway surprised to see me.

"Let me guess. You tried talking to them, and it didn't go too well," he said, raising one eyebrow. He looked around the cafeteria for a second, then headed off towards one side; I followed him.

"Well, it went about as well as I expected it to. Actually, it went better, since they ended up making themselves look like complete idiots." We reached an empty table in one corner of the side of the cafeteria farthest away from my old table and sat down. "James says hi, by the way."

"That's cool." We both took a few bites of our lunches, not talking, just sitting there and letting the noise from everyone else move around us. I could hear a few pieces of other peoples' conversations, and some of them seemed to be talking about Michael.

"I thought he went over to them," said a girl from a nearby table.

"To who?"

"You know, the preps. Haven't you seen who he's been sitting with lately?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

I saw another girl run by me, and from the sound of it, she only stopped by hitting the table. "Hey, guess what Nancy just told me?"

"What?"

"Davis Brown just called Rick Flair, Cody Black, and Darek Lannigan queers!"

"What? Are you serious? Man, he's crazy! Why'd he do that?"

"I dunno, something about them calling Michael Saint a faggot, and Davis didn't seem to like that or something."

"Well, he is a queer, they were just telling the truth!"

"Oh my God, are you for real? That's so nasty!"

"I think it's kinda cute."

"You're sick, Clara."

"Shut up."

Michael kept me from listening to anything more by sighing and hitting his head against the table. "Well, I guess that's out…" he sighed.

I reached across the table and squeezed his shoulder gently. "Don't worry, man. It'll be okay."

"Easy for you to say. Listening to what popular opinion seems to be already… Well. Survey says I'm screwed."