Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Pull Up For The J! ❯ Vindicated ( Chapter 32 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
Max puts his cards on the table; can Quatre deal with them?
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.21.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 6.5K | Visits: 217 | Status: Completed
Max puts his cards on the table; can Quatre deal with them?
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.21.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 6.5K | Visits: 217 | Status: Completed
Chapter Thirty-Two:
“Vindicated” Dashboard Confessional
Max walked into the room with a slow shuffle, watching nervously as Quatre looked up from his IV with a slight frown.
“Oh...hi,” the blond said with an embarrassed flush, wishing that he looked considerably better than he did right now. All...musty and unwashed...and this gorgeous creature walks in, looking as if he’d just jumped off a page from a male model mag?
“Hi.”
“I...was expecting one of my sisters to pop in...I have ten of them. Here in the States, actually. The others are...around the world,” Quatre explained in a low rush.
He glanced at the other drip that was being forced into his body, a sort of precaution that kept him from wanting another hit of what he’d been forced to take. Admittedly, this one made him feel rather nauseous, but he felt grateful for it, because he felt as if he were looking for something he couldn’t identify. Of course, he was incredulous that he’d have cravings for something he never knew he was taking, and to realize it...well...all of this was forcing him to look at things in a sort of Trowa perspective. And it made him uncomfortable doing it.
Half and half was what he felt, figuring that Trowa craved his drugs in this manner, and without the help Quatre was getting, he could halfway see why Trowa kept returning to them. In a way, he was proud for the goth to have gone without them the way he had when they first met. It also forced him to think of other things about him...
Max nodded thoughtfully, smiling slightly as he took in the monitors, the drips, the rumpled bed sheets... it just seemed so awkward to confront one’s crush, one he actually didn’t even know while he was in the hospital. It kind of made things a little more than uncomfortable, but he was determined to get through this phase and into a more friendly one.
So, he took a deep breath, and ventured:
“Those were yours? I’m afraid to ask how many you actually have–”
“Twenty-nine,” Quatre answered quickly, with an embarrassed drop of his head. “My father...had...a lot of girlfriends. And...wives. Divorces, one night stands...you name it.”
“Wow. I’ve been a single child, I could never understand what to do with a family like that. Can I...?”
“Oh! Oh, yeah, have a seat.” Quatre shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like...my room or anything.”
Max pulled up a chair, fighting hard not to break out in a nervous sweat and run far from the room. There was just something entirely different about Quatre that made him believe he couldn’t handle his own confidence. With Felicia, it was entirely different–he could be himself around her.
Well...he could be himself around a girl, and that meant displaying all the signs of like and hopeful chase, but Quatre...well, to be honest, the blond intimidated him. That’s why Max felt so flustered whenever he was around him.
It was this aura of confidence that had him reacting the way he was around the boy–all gawky and meek. Quatre brought out a different side to him, one that rocked all his senses and thoughts. He flushed with slight embarrassment as he fiddled with his hands. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew he had to be here. He’d asked the guy to the dance, for Christ’s Sake...he had to talk to him sometime.
“So,” he flicked the hair from his eyes, giving him a careful study, “how do you feel? I mean, despite the obvious?”
“Like shit. I’ve...I’ve never done drugs, and...just...the sight of people using and how they act...? Well, I don’t want it. I’ve never held a liking for it, and to know that someone did this to me purposely? I’ve got ass to kick as soon as I get out of here.”
“Do you fight often?”
“When they need their ass kicked, yeah,” Quatre mumbled, chewing on his nail. “A lot of people think I don’t do that. They think, ‘Oh, he’s a really nice kid. He doesn’t do that sort of thing!’ So when I come out and start swinging, then they get the real me. Sometimes, though, it’s different.”
“You’re a very interesting individual,” Max confessed, smiling at him.
Quatre flushed with embarrassed pleasure, unable to quite look at him. The boys sat nervously in silence, picking at various things. The clock ticked quietly in the far corner of the room, and the traffic noises outside lingered within. Finally, Quatre cleared his throat.
“I don’t even know you, but...you asked me to the dance...why?”
“I...I’m new, as you know. And...I have problems with...well, I have a slight case of Social Anxiety Disorder, so I’m on Zoloft. Actually, everyone just panics and reacts to a few things, and prescribe everything up the ass to make sure that I function as a ‘normal’ person. I don’t want to rely on what others think I need, so I wanted to cut down on it and learn how to do things without having to rely on...well, my medication. And I’m doing rather well, if you want to know, with all this venturing out, and I wanted to further my little experiment on interacting with others. Anyway, I realize that’s out of the blue, but I think it kind of helps. I...see, when I arrived at Darken, things were so...”
“Different?”
“Yes. I came from a small town–not exactly small, but–”
“From where? People don’t get things right.”
“Yuma. Arizona. Practically on the Mexican border...I went to school with a lot of minorities, so it just... weirds me out that there isn’t very many up here. A lot of racial tension. I mean, there was in Yuma, between everyone---I mean...I’m mixed. My father’s white, and my mother’s black.”
“Really? You really don’t look...”
“I know. They’re often asked if I were adopted,” Max said with a frown, reaching up to fiddle with his hair. Quatre looked at him closely, observing the tan skin, the light hair, the eyes...he really wouldn’t have known that the boy was the product of an interracial relationship. But then again, to him, race didn’t matter. Not at all. He was used to minorities as well, which was probably why he got along with Felicia so well.
“Your parents are rich? A majority of the kids at school are...”
“My mother owns Shapely Cosmetics...a popular line. Like L’Oreal, or Lancome...” He shrugged. “It’s not quite...er, manly to mention that, but...since I’ve arrived here and began school, it seems that nobody cares what image or background I come from. Well...my bloodlines are a different story, I suppose. Once certain people realize that my mother’s black, they sort of take a step back and forget that I’m there. And most of the kids don’t bother asking about that, or I’m sure they would look at me differently, too. But...forget about all that. I don’t want to talk about myself. You have very nice relatives...”
“You’re talking about Rashid and Lana, right? Because if all ten of my sisters are there, then...I think I’d rather hide under the bed or pretend that I’m dead.”
Max chuckled. “Yes. They’re both very nice people. Your aunt seems to be a very nice woman.”
“Yeah. Trowa really liked her.” Then Quatre snapped his mouth shut, realizing he’d brought his ex into the conversation. Max noticed, and sighed, fiddling with his jeans. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to–”
“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. One would have to be completely dead to not realize that you two have a history...and a strong one at that. Listen, to save any face, I just want to get things straight, Quatre. I asked you to the dance because I found you very interesting, and I wanted to get to know you better. I figured that would be something to do, considering it’s...a safe version of a date,” Max added, turning rather nervous as he picked at some imaginary lint of his jeans.
Quatre found his attention held by the lines of his hands, and he studied them intently, neither boy really wanting to look the other in the face.
Max took a deep breath, shrugging. “And...I...well, I have a crush on someone else, as well.”
Quatre looked at him, raising his eyebrows. “So...I’m being dumped?”
“No! No, I...see, I had–er, have crushes on...well, on you. And on...on her. I...I actually had this real out of the world idea that I could...sort of take you both. Kind of...a double date.”
“What?”
“I know, I know, it’s rather peculiar! And I was being selfish at the time, and completely retarded. I mean, it wouldn’t work. I had asked the both of you, and you both said ‘yes’. So...I’m kind of in a dilemma, here. I mean...I really like you both. I respect and admire the different qualities the pair of you have. In you, I see an individual that has made such an impact on others, that I wanted to be part of it. I wanted to have some of that impact,” Max explained, with a reddened flush on his features.
Of course, this only rendered him completely captivating, and despite his words, Quatre was just riveted on staring at his features alone, just vaguely listening to his stammering words.
“So...I asked you, thinking I could pull this off. And...and I asked her, because she just...she’s just as interesting as well. I have a feeling there’s a lot more to her than she actually lets on, and I...I wanted to find out.”
“So you’re bi?”
“I...I don’t know. See, I’ve never had this sort of thing happen before. I’ve never had a crush on a guy and a girl. I was sort of...in-between things. Sure, I noticed a pretty girl and–well, had my own experiences with a couple, but...guys I just sort of admired and put on the back burner. One couldn’t exactly come out in Yuma, you know. One would find themselves being shared at the prison nearby.”
Quatre chuckled, finding that the guy’s experiences were actually quite similar to his. “Yeah. That’s how I was, too. Back in Laramie...Then when I came here, I was just...blown away by everything. It was how I met Trowa...”
Max smiled at him, shifting back in his seat. He was getting more comfortable with him, actually. Quatre was actually an easy person to talk to when one got going. But the more he talked to him, the more he realized something–Quatre’s love for Trowa and vice versa was going to be a major deciding factor for him. The more he got to know the pair of them, the more he realized he shouldn’t be interfering.
“Fell in love at the first sight?” Max asked, lifting both eyebrows.
“No. Rather...disgust. I mean, the guy wears makeup,” Quatre uttered in annoyance, rolling his eyes.
“But that didn’t stop you from getting to know him....”
“No...it didn’t. I...actually, Max, I don’t think I can–”
“It’s all right,” Max interrupted quickly, straightening. “You don’t have to go, Quatre. I mean...now that I’m getting to know the both of you, I realize how complicated things actually are. You don’t have to go, and it isn’t as if...as if we’re ourselves set in things. Everyone can see how you two are really close despite your obvious differences.”
“Yeah...I’m really sorry, Max. I mean...it would have been fun, and you seem like a really cool guy, but–”
“It’s all right. Really. Perhaps it’s better this way. It would sort of...help me with...with her.”
“Who is it?”
Max just grinned. “I can’t say right now. I have a feeling she’d be very embarrassed...”
“To be going with you? Nah. You should see how everyone falls all over themselves over you,” Quatre snorted, shaking his head. “It’s like dominoes all around once you walk over.”
“I thought people were behaving funny...well...I’m glad we got that out into the open, Quatre. I wouldn’t have wanted things to have gotten awkward.”
“You’re pretty damn cocky to try and take two people to a single dance.”
Max laughed. “It was rather presumptuous, wasn’t it?”
“Do you always talk like that? For some reason, when you open your mouth, I hear a British accent coming from you.”
“Uh...Well, I do talk a little oddly, I hear. I’ve gotten beaten up because of it, but my mother always insisted on proper grammar and big words.”
“You...you’ve gotten beaten up?”
“In a small town, you either get beat up or you beat others up. I was sort of in-between, so I had my share of fights. I’m not...well, I don’t consider myself pansy material.”
“So you fight?” Quatre asked curiously, looking at the boy once more. One didn’t think this guy even knew how to make a fist. But actually, upon closer inspection, the guy had a few questionable scars over his knuckles. That in itself was pretty impressive. Looking at his own, he didn’t have that much, and no one really knew he fought until he was swinging.
Still...he began looking at Max as someone more human than the celestial being people thought he was the first time. Which was rather good, considering that he was constantly blinded by the guy’s beauty.
“Yes, actually. But only to defend myself. Not for entertainment.”
“Aw, c’mon! We can go out and kick people’s asses! Like a certain someone when I get back to the school!”
“Who was it? I didn’t hear...”
“It was Trowa’s fucking roommate. Jared. I don’t know his last name,” Quatre said in disgust, hitting the bed. “He told Trowa last night that he did it...”
“Is...is this a dark-haired guy with Buddy Holly glasses?”
“Yeah...you know him?”
“Has a girlfriend? Her name’s Middie?”
Quatre stared at him in silence, then narrowed his eyes. “Say that name again?”
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
“Yay! Uncle!” Michael yelled, running into the room. Quatre looked away from his watch as the boy jumped onto his bed, and promptly began jumping up and down on it. “You don’t look half ass and diseased! Are you cured?”
“What? Get down. You’re gonna fall and crack your head and your dad’s going to blame me for it,” Quatre grumbled as the boy continued jumping. Then he snapped, “What do you mean, half assed and diseased?”
Jake walked into the room, using one arm to haul Michael off the bed. He dropped two pairs of jackets and a Dr. Suess backpack onto the floor next to a chair. “Your sisters are tearing each other apart, man. How the hell do you deal with that shit?”
“This is why I moved far away from them. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Can’t I be concerned for a rival?”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘concerned’...”
“Does this mean you aren’t playing next Friday? I would hate to see your team lose without one of their better players actually trying to stop us...”
“Oh, fuck you, you arrogant cock suck!”
“Cock suck!”
“Mike! Anyway...I saw your ex. Man...seriously? You and him? Are like...fucking...hilarious. I cannot see you with that guy. What, did he lure you into his pants with candy and promises of video games at Never Land?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Quatre snorted, shaking his head. “You just wouldn’t know anything. After all, you’re the one stuck with that...”
“Ooh, you wound me deep, kid,” Jake laughed, taking a seat while Michael began rummaging through all the drawers he could find in the room. Quatre scowled at him, then looked at the boy as he found some packaged gloves and wrestled the box open. “Really, I was thinking your ex was something more like you. All normal looking. No makeup. You wearing makeup, Winner?”
“Go to hell and rot. NO! ...Your kid’s wasting billions of taxpayer’s dollars in playing with those.”
“Eh. Maybe he’ll become a doctor one day and pay it all back for this one grievance. So, seriously...what the hell happened? Your uncle said that some guy did it?”
“Yeah. I dunno. I was having a lot of trouble with this one guy...like, earlier in the season he was sending me all this threatening shit and all that, and–get that out of your mouth! Your kid’s going to choke and die!”
“We’re at a hospital, chill---MIKE! Get that out of your mouth! You don’t know where that’s been!”
Quatre rolled his eyes, snorting. “Anyway, I guess he just hated me. I don’t know what for. It wasn’t like I did anything to him. I barely talked to him.”
“You know who it was?”
“Yeah. It was...my ex’s roommate. I think he was all loved up on him, too.”
Jake snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s so wrong. Your ex reminds me of Alice Cooper on Betty Crocker.”
“He’ll kick your ass if he hears you saying that.”
“Bring it. I’m not afraid of some drag queen. Maybe I’ll make a man out of him. So...what’s going to happen, then? Are you still playing?”
“Yeah...I’ll be there. Hey, kid! C’mere! Want to see something neat?”
“YEAH!” Mike shouted, racing over to him.
Jake gave Quatre a suspicious look as the blond turned his back to him, and leaned down so that he couldn’t see what he was showing Mike. But the boy was obviously impressed because he crowed with joy, looking utterly disgusted and delighted at the same time.
“EW! DAD! He’s showing me a booger!”
Jake sighed, shaking his head. “Real mature, Winner.”
Quatre laughed, straightening. He wiped his newfound treasure into a wad of tissue from a nearby dispenser. “It was bugging me for the last hour. I had to do something about it.”
“High school...”
“Says the fifth year senior.”
“Hah. Anyway...who’s the guy Passage’s snagging on?”
“Huh? Some guy’s letting her get on him?”
“Seriously. He looks like a fairy...”
“Er...brown hair? Earrings?”
“Yeah. That guy. What’s with you homos and looking feminine? I mean...wouldn’t you just want a guy that looked like a guy? And not a girl? If you wanted a guy that looked like a girl, just fucking get with a girl.”
“Gee, you look mighty delicious, Trip,” Quatre said, licking his lips suggestively in the older boy’s direction.
“Suck dick and die, ass fairy.”
Quatre laughed, and they both shouted at Michael as the kid attempted to climb onto the window. Mike looked at them and grinned, continuing to climb onto the ledge. Jake rose from his seat, gathering his things.
“Well, anyway, just wanted to see if you were actually sick and not faking it for next Friday,” he said, grabbing his unruly son into a football hold. As Michael began shrieking and kicking a storm, trying to get away from his father, Jake turned away from the window and walked toward the door. “Say, ‘bye’, Mike. We’re leaving.”
“I WANNA STAY!”
“Too bad. See ya, Winner.”
Quatre waved at them both, wincing as Michael screamed bloody murder all the way down the hall, erupting into hysterics that made him chuckle. Seriously...he was never going to have kids. And if he ever did, they would NOT turn out like that little monster.
He just barely had time to grumble that he liked boys that looked like boys when Justin walked in, a sullen expression on his face as Jamie, dressed in civilian gear, and Colin walked in.
“What’s up, bud?” Colin asked, hitting the underside of his bare foot. His voice was much too loud for this room and the environment. It was actually surprising to see the senior taking the time out from his busy schedule to be there. Seeing him made him wonder if Triton was going to be one of the other guests. “You look okay!”
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just–”
“Quatre, did someone try to kill you last night?” Jamie asked, looking wholly angry as he leaned on the bed. “Who was it?”
“It was this guy named–”
“Get the fuck off the bed and man up, Winner,” Justin grumbled, looking snotty.
“Hey! I just–!”
“Hey, just to let you know, man, people at school’s been talking,” Colin interrupted, Quatre giving an exasperated gesture as they continued to cut him off. “Sayin’ that Jared fucked ya’ll over because you and that Barton guy wouldn’t let him in on a threesome.”
“That is so fucking disgusting...”
“Who’s this ‘Jared’ person I keep hearing about?” Jamie asked, frowning.
“Man, he was taken into juvie already! He’s out of school!” Justin said, rather exasperated, as if he’d been saying this over and over again. Jamie gave him an irritated expression that bordered on menacing.
“Oh, and Ramos was so fucking PISSED!” Colin continued over their voices. “Guess who else was kicked off? Fuckin’ Derrick. Derrick was kicked off, so now we’re down to an even ten. And you just passed, son! You feelin’ good about that?”
“I–!”
“Quatre, did he threaten you before?”
“He–!”
“I told you before, he did!”
“I’m asking him!”
“You know all the answers! Everyone told you what happened!”
“I’m not listening to rumors! I want to find out the actual truth! And you better stop talking to me like that, Sharp!”
“What, you gonna do your military feng shui on me?”
Quatre rolled his eyes, shaking his head as the two Js argued with each other, and Colin excitedly described what was going on with school. When those three finally left, their voices still ringing within the hall, three more people filed in.
“Quatre, why didn’t you tell us you were gay?” Fatima demanded, dark ponytail bobbing as she was followed by Amaya and Go, who looked really uncomfortable.
Quatre sighed again, hanging his head as more words from determined people moved over his head.
It was finally a good two hours later when he was alone with Trowa again, the goth looking tired and miserable as he leaned on his bed, sitting in a chair at his side. Quatre found comfort in stroking the long strands of his bang, and appreciating the silence within.
Trowa had his chin propped on his arms, and from within, he grumbled, “I’m still going to the dance with Sylvia.”
“Oh, yeah? I can’t imagine seeing you at a school dance, Trowa.”
“I know. It’ll be hell. But...I don’t think it can compare to this.”
“To what? That can mean a whole lot of things.”
“Just...this,” Trowa gestured at his bed, at the IV. “I mean...you...you could’ve died last night, and...and nothing of...of ‘us’ was–is resolved. Plus...all this shit with...with stuff, and...”
“Trowa...”
Trowa sighed, resuming his earlier position. Feeling Quatre’s fingers through his hair was mighty relaxing. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of his ex, and just wishing that for once, for just a small while, things were different and they were together again. No more dating, no more random guys, no matchmaking attempts by rabid females...just them. And this sort of thing wouldn’t happen. No...not in their world.
They could just go back to being dramatic and highly over-exaggerated when it came to certain things, and everything–the tape, the cheating, the friends, the everything!–would be nothing but a mad dream. He sighed again, reaching out to touch Quatre’s knee, curling his fingers over it.
“I miss you,” he grumbled from within his other arm.
“Really? I...I miss you, too. I mean...sometimes, I just get so...so lonely. It’s weird. Can a year really do that much to a person? Make them forget how they survived before? You know?”
“...Yeah...It’s like we can’t go back there. It’s...like being a virgin, I suppose. All over again. Once it’s done, it’s done.”
Quatre chuckled, his fingers traveling away from the bang and up to the short cropped hair on the back of Trowa’s head. He touched the scar he’d left, and smiled with a sort of embarrassed affection.
“So...are you going to boogey on down at the dance?”
“Are you?”
“No...I talked to Max...I...I don’t think I can go. Not with him.”
Trowa felt very satisfied at this, but at the same time, a little rotten.
“But...I don’t know. Maybe I might change my mind. He told me something really interesting, and I was thinking about it.” He shrugged a shoulder as Trowa lifted his head to give him a blank stare. “It sounded a little interesting, and...I don’t know. I should just go. I’m...I’m not going to be here for very long, and–”
“What? What do you mean by that?” Trowa asked, frowning as he lifted his head completely to look at him.
“I mean, after this semester ends, I’m going back to Laramie. I’m moving back there.” Quatre gave him a puzzled expression. “I thought Rashid told the lot of you...”
“I...I wasn’t there...” Trowa trailed off, slowly looking shocked. “You’re...not coming back?”
“No. They can’t afford to keep me here, Trowa. If I come back, it’s either because I got a scholarship to NPU, or something. And...I wasn’t thinking of attending here. I...I wanted North Carolina, or...I don’t know. I don’t know! I knew this since Christmas Break, and...it just....I don’t want to think about it. That’s why I’m trying to do a lot here, and trying to do things, and say things...”
“But...you can’t just go back! Things aren’t the same as they are here!”
“I know! It’s so...it’s going to be so different, Trowa! I mean, I came from a pretty close-minded town, came out here where everything fucking goes, then going back after having a taste of this? And...you...and everyone else...? I don’t want to go. I really don’t.”
“I don’t want you to go. What’s...what are we supposed to do, then?” Trowa asked, pulling away from him. “Just...things...things aren’t going to be fixed! We needed time, and time was hard, granted, but–! No!”
Quatre stared at him silently, then shrugged helplessly. “What can I do, Trowa? I can’t...they can’t possibly keep me here. Father had paid for only two years...last year and this one. And...Lana and Rashid can’t take over on the payments...”
“Things aren’t resolved, yet, Quat! And if we try to rush them–!”
“...I know, Trowa...I know....it sucks. I hate knowing it, and it sucks. I don’t...I don’t want to go. I made so many friends here, and I like it here, so much, and then going back there...” He shook his head in misery, reaching up to wipe at his eyes.
They were suddenly filling with wetness, and just knowing that Trowa was just as upset as he to know that he wasn’t coming back for his senior year just made things even more so...
Trowa stared at him in silence, then reached over to curl his fingers through Quatre’s. He held the boy’s hand, and lowered his head in mute disappointment, resuming his earlier position. Quatre held his head and resumed combing through his bang, silently crying that he had to leave it all behind once more.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Back at Darken, Triton was moping about in the entertainment room, flicking through the channels with a contemplative frown on his face. So many people were talking about what had happened to Quatre Winner, and while he himself felt shocked that something of that measure had happened, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about it. First off, while he’d definitely felt that he should go and see how the guy was doing, he just couldn’t. Hospitals didn’t do well for him, especially after he’d spent some time in mental health clinics for his disorder.
He’d rather wait until Quatre came back here before checking up on him.
Besides that, it wasn’t as if...well...as a teammate, he was concerned. But as for everything else? Well... it wasn’t as if he were in love with Quatre. After having sex with him that one night, things sort of...dimmed. Sure, he’d like to hit it a few more times just because it was good, but he wasn’t sure about the feelings part. As far as he was concerned, there wasn’t any feelings between them both. Hate the game, not the player.
Quatre was just...well, a warm, much appreciated toy.
He shrugged. The other team members were making an effort to go out to Grand Junction, but he was just going to wait. It wasn’t anything serious if he were in recovery and were to be released tonight. So, he’d just wait for the boy to come back to school to see him. It was better that way.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Middie was nibbling hastily on her fingernails as she stared out her bedroom window that night, thinking about what she had done. She didn’t mean for things to get that bad–! She just wanted Quatre to get into trouble and get his arrogant ass kicked off the team. She hadn’t expected him to react to the drug as he did. So, when things happened that night, she was pretty much in shock. Her fellow dance team members had just took her mute shock as something understandable, as drug overdoses and such things were unfamiliar to them.
But she could only think about how much in trouble she was going to be once Jared snitched on her. She wondered if he had, and why it was taking the school so long to confront her. While she definitely felt guilty for being half of the reason why Quatre was in the hospital, she wasn’t going to turn herself in right just yet. He was okay–! He’d survived–! If he’d died, then that would be something to go suicidal over, but since he hadn’t and was supposed to be released tonight, then...then she was just going to wait. No one knew she was involved, and Jared had been arrested earlier this morning, so...if he had told on her, then she would have been taken away by now, right?
Still...this entire situation had her stomach in severe knots, and she knew she couldn’t tell anyone about it. After all, she was going to be a criminal after this was over and done! She’d deliberately drugged someone, and...and...her reputation would be shredded! Completely! Add to the fact that she only participated because she hated Quatre, and not really because of Trowa...because...ew. The more time she spent thinking about Trowa, the more she felt disgusted that the guy spent over five hours in bed with a woman that had allowed a dog to top her.
She shuddered. Nope. Trowa was out of her mind since that horrible thought! She would just keep the much-in demand video and view it whenever she was lonely, but that was about as close to Trowa Barton as she wanted to get from this point on.
So it wasn’t about Trowa, anymore. It was more like...ruining a life of someone she really disliked. And she really disliked Quatre–the blond was just so damn arrogant and shitty, and she had to show him what she felt for his general person! Though...she wasn’t going to confess that it was all her, she was just going to–!
She gasped and gave a start when someone knocked on her door.
She stared at the closed door with wide eyes, heart racing furiously. Wait–! She needed a lawyer! She needed to call her parents! What were they going to think of her now that she was a cold cut criminal? She didn’t want to answer...maybe...if she was quiet enough...they’d realize she wasn’t here...
The knock came again, and she gripped her bed with both hands, breathing heavily, but quietly. Controlling the sound with gulping swallows and forced exhales. She didn’t want to answer...but if it were the cops, they’d be working with security, and they’d know via heat and weight measure that she was in here!
Tears in her eyes, she got up from the bed and walked over to answer it.
“Middie!” one of her friends exclaimed. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Why are you crying?”
Middie had to shake her head. How ridiculous.
“Nothing,” she answered, wiping her eyes, careful of her makeup. “PMS.”
“Oh, really? Want some chocolate? Midol?”
“No...what’s going on? What’s up?”
“Nothing, I just wanted to see what you were doing...oh, Quatre should be here, tonight! I heard from Duo that he was coming back to school! Isn’t that just awesome! I would have been so scared if something like that happened to me!” her friend exclaimed, rolling her eyes and touching her chin with emphasis. Middie stared at her with a blank expression as comments of this sort continued.
Finally, Middie interrupted with, “You know, I’m tired. I’m going to bed, now, all right?”
“Oh, okay! See you later!”
Middie shut her door, and exhaled heavily. Suddenly, the room was too small. She needed to get out. She hurriedly threw on her jacket and changed into a pair of boots, then left her room.
Walking outside, she gulped in a breath full of cold air. She stared at New Park’s skyline, at the lights and the continuous air traffic. What was she going to do?
If Jared hadn’t told on her, then she should just take this gesture as a sort of calling, and just pretend that she didn’t have to do anything. If he wasn’t going to tell on her, why should she confess? It’ll be just her little secret–well, his and hers. And it was all his fault, anyway. After all, he was the one that started the entire thing–Middie was just going to hate Quatre from the sidelines until Jared got himself involved with her. He was the one that suggested this sort of action just to get him booted off the team so they could revel in his fall from basketball grace.
It was all Jared’s fault in the first place. She was just a helpless accomplice, nothing more.
She tucked her hands into her jacket, and began walking. If Jared did tell on her, she’d take that route. Maybe she wouldn’t get into much trouble.
She had just about reached the joint where she could either turn right for the athletic fields, or left for the gym, when she heard shouts. She turned to see a large group of kids that were gathered near the parking lot, and it was obvious he had come back. She about ground her teeth together with annoyance as the crowd gave their cheers and shouts for Quatre as if he were some sort of hero.
God, people have overdoses every fucking day, and they think he’s some sort of fucking saint, she thought in disgust, walking on. Well...if she did get into trouble, at least she had the satisfaction of knowing that he had been felled by an effort she considered her most devious yet.
“Vindicated” Dashboard Confessional
Max walked into the room with a slow shuffle, watching nervously as Quatre looked up from his IV with a slight frown.
“Oh...hi,” the blond said with an embarrassed flush, wishing that he looked considerably better than he did right now. All...musty and unwashed...and this gorgeous creature walks in, looking as if he’d just jumped off a page from a male model mag?
“Hi.”
“I...was expecting one of my sisters to pop in...I have ten of them. Here in the States, actually. The others are...around the world,” Quatre explained in a low rush.
He glanced at the other drip that was being forced into his body, a sort of precaution that kept him from wanting another hit of what he’d been forced to take. Admittedly, this one made him feel rather nauseous, but he felt grateful for it, because he felt as if he were looking for something he couldn’t identify. Of course, he was incredulous that he’d have cravings for something he never knew he was taking, and to realize it...well...all of this was forcing him to look at things in a sort of Trowa perspective. And it made him uncomfortable doing it.
Half and half was what he felt, figuring that Trowa craved his drugs in this manner, and without the help Quatre was getting, he could halfway see why Trowa kept returning to them. In a way, he was proud for the goth to have gone without them the way he had when they first met. It also forced him to think of other things about him...
Max nodded thoughtfully, smiling slightly as he took in the monitors, the drips, the rumpled bed sheets... it just seemed so awkward to confront one’s crush, one he actually didn’t even know while he was in the hospital. It kind of made things a little more than uncomfortable, but he was determined to get through this phase and into a more friendly one.
So, he took a deep breath, and ventured:
“Those were yours? I’m afraid to ask how many you actually have–”
“Twenty-nine,” Quatre answered quickly, with an embarrassed drop of his head. “My father...had...a lot of girlfriends. And...wives. Divorces, one night stands...you name it.”
“Wow. I’ve been a single child, I could never understand what to do with a family like that. Can I...?”
“Oh! Oh, yeah, have a seat.” Quatre shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like...my room or anything.”
Max pulled up a chair, fighting hard not to break out in a nervous sweat and run far from the room. There was just something entirely different about Quatre that made him believe he couldn’t handle his own confidence. With Felicia, it was entirely different–he could be himself around her.
Well...he could be himself around a girl, and that meant displaying all the signs of like and hopeful chase, but Quatre...well, to be honest, the blond intimidated him. That’s why Max felt so flustered whenever he was around him.
It was this aura of confidence that had him reacting the way he was around the boy–all gawky and meek. Quatre brought out a different side to him, one that rocked all his senses and thoughts. He flushed with slight embarrassment as he fiddled with his hands. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew he had to be here. He’d asked the guy to the dance, for Christ’s Sake...he had to talk to him sometime.
“So,” he flicked the hair from his eyes, giving him a careful study, “how do you feel? I mean, despite the obvious?”
“Like shit. I’ve...I’ve never done drugs, and...just...the sight of people using and how they act...? Well, I don’t want it. I’ve never held a liking for it, and to know that someone did this to me purposely? I’ve got ass to kick as soon as I get out of here.”
“Do you fight often?”
“When they need their ass kicked, yeah,” Quatre mumbled, chewing on his nail. “A lot of people think I don’t do that. They think, ‘Oh, he’s a really nice kid. He doesn’t do that sort of thing!’ So when I come out and start swinging, then they get the real me. Sometimes, though, it’s different.”
“You’re a very interesting individual,” Max confessed, smiling at him.
Quatre flushed with embarrassed pleasure, unable to quite look at him. The boys sat nervously in silence, picking at various things. The clock ticked quietly in the far corner of the room, and the traffic noises outside lingered within. Finally, Quatre cleared his throat.
“I don’t even know you, but...you asked me to the dance...why?”
“I...I’m new, as you know. And...I have problems with...well, I have a slight case of Social Anxiety Disorder, so I’m on Zoloft. Actually, everyone just panics and reacts to a few things, and prescribe everything up the ass to make sure that I function as a ‘normal’ person. I don’t want to rely on what others think I need, so I wanted to cut down on it and learn how to do things without having to rely on...well, my medication. And I’m doing rather well, if you want to know, with all this venturing out, and I wanted to further my little experiment on interacting with others. Anyway, I realize that’s out of the blue, but I think it kind of helps. I...see, when I arrived at Darken, things were so...”
“Different?”
“Yes. I came from a small town–not exactly small, but–”
“From where? People don’t get things right.”
“Yuma. Arizona. Practically on the Mexican border...I went to school with a lot of minorities, so it just... weirds me out that there isn’t very many up here. A lot of racial tension. I mean, there was in Yuma, between everyone---I mean...I’m mixed. My father’s white, and my mother’s black.”
“Really? You really don’t look...”
“I know. They’re often asked if I were adopted,” Max said with a frown, reaching up to fiddle with his hair. Quatre looked at him closely, observing the tan skin, the light hair, the eyes...he really wouldn’t have known that the boy was the product of an interracial relationship. But then again, to him, race didn’t matter. Not at all. He was used to minorities as well, which was probably why he got along with Felicia so well.
“Your parents are rich? A majority of the kids at school are...”
“My mother owns Shapely Cosmetics...a popular line. Like L’Oreal, or Lancome...” He shrugged. “It’s not quite...er, manly to mention that, but...since I’ve arrived here and began school, it seems that nobody cares what image or background I come from. Well...my bloodlines are a different story, I suppose. Once certain people realize that my mother’s black, they sort of take a step back and forget that I’m there. And most of the kids don’t bother asking about that, or I’m sure they would look at me differently, too. But...forget about all that. I don’t want to talk about myself. You have very nice relatives...”
“You’re talking about Rashid and Lana, right? Because if all ten of my sisters are there, then...I think I’d rather hide under the bed or pretend that I’m dead.”
Max chuckled. “Yes. They’re both very nice people. Your aunt seems to be a very nice woman.”
“Yeah. Trowa really liked her.” Then Quatre snapped his mouth shut, realizing he’d brought his ex into the conversation. Max noticed, and sighed, fiddling with his jeans. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to–”
“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. One would have to be completely dead to not realize that you two have a history...and a strong one at that. Listen, to save any face, I just want to get things straight, Quatre. I asked you to the dance because I found you very interesting, and I wanted to get to know you better. I figured that would be something to do, considering it’s...a safe version of a date,” Max added, turning rather nervous as he picked at some imaginary lint of his jeans.
Quatre found his attention held by the lines of his hands, and he studied them intently, neither boy really wanting to look the other in the face.
Max took a deep breath, shrugging. “And...I...well, I have a crush on someone else, as well.”
Quatre looked at him, raising his eyebrows. “So...I’m being dumped?”
“No! No, I...see, I had–er, have crushes on...well, on you. And on...on her. I...I actually had this real out of the world idea that I could...sort of take you both. Kind of...a double date.”
“What?”
“I know, I know, it’s rather peculiar! And I was being selfish at the time, and completely retarded. I mean, it wouldn’t work. I had asked the both of you, and you both said ‘yes’. So...I’m kind of in a dilemma, here. I mean...I really like you both. I respect and admire the different qualities the pair of you have. In you, I see an individual that has made such an impact on others, that I wanted to be part of it. I wanted to have some of that impact,” Max explained, with a reddened flush on his features.
Of course, this only rendered him completely captivating, and despite his words, Quatre was just riveted on staring at his features alone, just vaguely listening to his stammering words.
“So...I asked you, thinking I could pull this off. And...and I asked her, because she just...she’s just as interesting as well. I have a feeling there’s a lot more to her than she actually lets on, and I...I wanted to find out.”
“So you’re bi?”
“I...I don’t know. See, I’ve never had this sort of thing happen before. I’ve never had a crush on a guy and a girl. I was sort of...in-between things. Sure, I noticed a pretty girl and–well, had my own experiences with a couple, but...guys I just sort of admired and put on the back burner. One couldn’t exactly come out in Yuma, you know. One would find themselves being shared at the prison nearby.”
Quatre chuckled, finding that the guy’s experiences were actually quite similar to his. “Yeah. That’s how I was, too. Back in Laramie...Then when I came here, I was just...blown away by everything. It was how I met Trowa...”
Max smiled at him, shifting back in his seat. He was getting more comfortable with him, actually. Quatre was actually an easy person to talk to when one got going. But the more he talked to him, the more he realized something–Quatre’s love for Trowa and vice versa was going to be a major deciding factor for him. The more he got to know the pair of them, the more he realized he shouldn’t be interfering.
“Fell in love at the first sight?” Max asked, lifting both eyebrows.
“No. Rather...disgust. I mean, the guy wears makeup,” Quatre uttered in annoyance, rolling his eyes.
“But that didn’t stop you from getting to know him....”
“No...it didn’t. I...actually, Max, I don’t think I can–”
“It’s all right,” Max interrupted quickly, straightening. “You don’t have to go, Quatre. I mean...now that I’m getting to know the both of you, I realize how complicated things actually are. You don’t have to go, and it isn’t as if...as if we’re ourselves set in things. Everyone can see how you two are really close despite your obvious differences.”
“Yeah...I’m really sorry, Max. I mean...it would have been fun, and you seem like a really cool guy, but–”
“It’s all right. Really. Perhaps it’s better this way. It would sort of...help me with...with her.”
“Who is it?”
Max just grinned. “I can’t say right now. I have a feeling she’d be very embarrassed...”
“To be going with you? Nah. You should see how everyone falls all over themselves over you,” Quatre snorted, shaking his head. “It’s like dominoes all around once you walk over.”
“I thought people were behaving funny...well...I’m glad we got that out into the open, Quatre. I wouldn’t have wanted things to have gotten awkward.”
“You’re pretty damn cocky to try and take two people to a single dance.”
Max laughed. “It was rather presumptuous, wasn’t it?”
“Do you always talk like that? For some reason, when you open your mouth, I hear a British accent coming from you.”
“Uh...Well, I do talk a little oddly, I hear. I’ve gotten beaten up because of it, but my mother always insisted on proper grammar and big words.”
“You...you’ve gotten beaten up?”
“In a small town, you either get beat up or you beat others up. I was sort of in-between, so I had my share of fights. I’m not...well, I don’t consider myself pansy material.”
“So you fight?” Quatre asked curiously, looking at the boy once more. One didn’t think this guy even knew how to make a fist. But actually, upon closer inspection, the guy had a few questionable scars over his knuckles. That in itself was pretty impressive. Looking at his own, he didn’t have that much, and no one really knew he fought until he was swinging.
Still...he began looking at Max as someone more human than the celestial being people thought he was the first time. Which was rather good, considering that he was constantly blinded by the guy’s beauty.
“Yes, actually. But only to defend myself. Not for entertainment.”
“Aw, c’mon! We can go out and kick people’s asses! Like a certain someone when I get back to the school!”
“Who was it? I didn’t hear...”
“It was Trowa’s fucking roommate. Jared. I don’t know his last name,” Quatre said in disgust, hitting the bed. “He told Trowa last night that he did it...”
“Is...is this a dark-haired guy with Buddy Holly glasses?”
“Yeah...you know him?”
“Has a girlfriend? Her name’s Middie?”
Quatre stared at him in silence, then narrowed his eyes. “Say that name again?”
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
“Yay! Uncle!” Michael yelled, running into the room. Quatre looked away from his watch as the boy jumped onto his bed, and promptly began jumping up and down on it. “You don’t look half ass and diseased! Are you cured?”
“What? Get down. You’re gonna fall and crack your head and your dad’s going to blame me for it,” Quatre grumbled as the boy continued jumping. Then he snapped, “What do you mean, half assed and diseased?”
Jake walked into the room, using one arm to haul Michael off the bed. He dropped two pairs of jackets and a Dr. Suess backpack onto the floor next to a chair. “Your sisters are tearing each other apart, man. How the hell do you deal with that shit?”
“This is why I moved far away from them. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Can’t I be concerned for a rival?”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘concerned’...”
“Does this mean you aren’t playing next Friday? I would hate to see your team lose without one of their better players actually trying to stop us...”
“Oh, fuck you, you arrogant cock suck!”
“Cock suck!”
“Mike! Anyway...I saw your ex. Man...seriously? You and him? Are like...fucking...hilarious. I cannot see you with that guy. What, did he lure you into his pants with candy and promises of video games at Never Land?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Quatre snorted, shaking his head. “You just wouldn’t know anything. After all, you’re the one stuck with that...”
“Ooh, you wound me deep, kid,” Jake laughed, taking a seat while Michael began rummaging through all the drawers he could find in the room. Quatre scowled at him, then looked at the boy as he found some packaged gloves and wrestled the box open. “Really, I was thinking your ex was something more like you. All normal looking. No makeup. You wearing makeup, Winner?”
“Go to hell and rot. NO! ...Your kid’s wasting billions of taxpayer’s dollars in playing with those.”
“Eh. Maybe he’ll become a doctor one day and pay it all back for this one grievance. So, seriously...what the hell happened? Your uncle said that some guy did it?”
“Yeah. I dunno. I was having a lot of trouble with this one guy...like, earlier in the season he was sending me all this threatening shit and all that, and–get that out of your mouth! Your kid’s going to choke and die!”
“We’re at a hospital, chill---MIKE! Get that out of your mouth! You don’t know where that’s been!”
Quatre rolled his eyes, snorting. “Anyway, I guess he just hated me. I don’t know what for. It wasn’t like I did anything to him. I barely talked to him.”
“You know who it was?”
“Yeah. It was...my ex’s roommate. I think he was all loved up on him, too.”
Jake snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s so wrong. Your ex reminds me of Alice Cooper on Betty Crocker.”
“He’ll kick your ass if he hears you saying that.”
“Bring it. I’m not afraid of some drag queen. Maybe I’ll make a man out of him. So...what’s going to happen, then? Are you still playing?”
“Yeah...I’ll be there. Hey, kid! C’mere! Want to see something neat?”
“YEAH!” Mike shouted, racing over to him.
Jake gave Quatre a suspicious look as the blond turned his back to him, and leaned down so that he couldn’t see what he was showing Mike. But the boy was obviously impressed because he crowed with joy, looking utterly disgusted and delighted at the same time.
“EW! DAD! He’s showing me a booger!”
Jake sighed, shaking his head. “Real mature, Winner.”
Quatre laughed, straightening. He wiped his newfound treasure into a wad of tissue from a nearby dispenser. “It was bugging me for the last hour. I had to do something about it.”
“High school...”
“Says the fifth year senior.”
“Hah. Anyway...who’s the guy Passage’s snagging on?”
“Huh? Some guy’s letting her get on him?”
“Seriously. He looks like a fairy...”
“Er...brown hair? Earrings?”
“Yeah. That guy. What’s with you homos and looking feminine? I mean...wouldn’t you just want a guy that looked like a guy? And not a girl? If you wanted a guy that looked like a girl, just fucking get with a girl.”
“Gee, you look mighty delicious, Trip,” Quatre said, licking his lips suggestively in the older boy’s direction.
“Suck dick and die, ass fairy.”
Quatre laughed, and they both shouted at Michael as the kid attempted to climb onto the window. Mike looked at them and grinned, continuing to climb onto the ledge. Jake rose from his seat, gathering his things.
“Well, anyway, just wanted to see if you were actually sick and not faking it for next Friday,” he said, grabbing his unruly son into a football hold. As Michael began shrieking and kicking a storm, trying to get away from his father, Jake turned away from the window and walked toward the door. “Say, ‘bye’, Mike. We’re leaving.”
“I WANNA STAY!”
“Too bad. See ya, Winner.”
Quatre waved at them both, wincing as Michael screamed bloody murder all the way down the hall, erupting into hysterics that made him chuckle. Seriously...he was never going to have kids. And if he ever did, they would NOT turn out like that little monster.
He just barely had time to grumble that he liked boys that looked like boys when Justin walked in, a sullen expression on his face as Jamie, dressed in civilian gear, and Colin walked in.
“What’s up, bud?” Colin asked, hitting the underside of his bare foot. His voice was much too loud for this room and the environment. It was actually surprising to see the senior taking the time out from his busy schedule to be there. Seeing him made him wonder if Triton was going to be one of the other guests. “You look okay!”
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just–”
“Quatre, did someone try to kill you last night?” Jamie asked, looking wholly angry as he leaned on the bed. “Who was it?”
“It was this guy named–”
“Get the fuck off the bed and man up, Winner,” Justin grumbled, looking snotty.
“Hey! I just–!”
“Hey, just to let you know, man, people at school’s been talking,” Colin interrupted, Quatre giving an exasperated gesture as they continued to cut him off. “Sayin’ that Jared fucked ya’ll over because you and that Barton guy wouldn’t let him in on a threesome.”
“That is so fucking disgusting...”
“Who’s this ‘Jared’ person I keep hearing about?” Jamie asked, frowning.
“Man, he was taken into juvie already! He’s out of school!” Justin said, rather exasperated, as if he’d been saying this over and over again. Jamie gave him an irritated expression that bordered on menacing.
“Oh, and Ramos was so fucking PISSED!” Colin continued over their voices. “Guess who else was kicked off? Fuckin’ Derrick. Derrick was kicked off, so now we’re down to an even ten. And you just passed, son! You feelin’ good about that?”
“I–!”
“Quatre, did he threaten you before?”
“He–!”
“I told you before, he did!”
“I’m asking him!”
“You know all the answers! Everyone told you what happened!”
“I’m not listening to rumors! I want to find out the actual truth! And you better stop talking to me like that, Sharp!”
“What, you gonna do your military feng shui on me?”
Quatre rolled his eyes, shaking his head as the two Js argued with each other, and Colin excitedly described what was going on with school. When those three finally left, their voices still ringing within the hall, three more people filed in.
“Quatre, why didn’t you tell us you were gay?” Fatima demanded, dark ponytail bobbing as she was followed by Amaya and Go, who looked really uncomfortable.
Quatre sighed again, hanging his head as more words from determined people moved over his head.
It was finally a good two hours later when he was alone with Trowa again, the goth looking tired and miserable as he leaned on his bed, sitting in a chair at his side. Quatre found comfort in stroking the long strands of his bang, and appreciating the silence within.
Trowa had his chin propped on his arms, and from within, he grumbled, “I’m still going to the dance with Sylvia.”
“Oh, yeah? I can’t imagine seeing you at a school dance, Trowa.”
“I know. It’ll be hell. But...I don’t think it can compare to this.”
“To what? That can mean a whole lot of things.”
“Just...this,” Trowa gestured at his bed, at the IV. “I mean...you...you could’ve died last night, and...and nothing of...of ‘us’ was–is resolved. Plus...all this shit with...with stuff, and...”
“Trowa...”
Trowa sighed, resuming his earlier position. Feeling Quatre’s fingers through his hair was mighty relaxing. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of his ex, and just wishing that for once, for just a small while, things were different and they were together again. No more dating, no more random guys, no matchmaking attempts by rabid females...just them. And this sort of thing wouldn’t happen. No...not in their world.
They could just go back to being dramatic and highly over-exaggerated when it came to certain things, and everything–the tape, the cheating, the friends, the everything!–would be nothing but a mad dream. He sighed again, reaching out to touch Quatre’s knee, curling his fingers over it.
“I miss you,” he grumbled from within his other arm.
“Really? I...I miss you, too. I mean...sometimes, I just get so...so lonely. It’s weird. Can a year really do that much to a person? Make them forget how they survived before? You know?”
“...Yeah...It’s like we can’t go back there. It’s...like being a virgin, I suppose. All over again. Once it’s done, it’s done.”
Quatre chuckled, his fingers traveling away from the bang and up to the short cropped hair on the back of Trowa’s head. He touched the scar he’d left, and smiled with a sort of embarrassed affection.
“So...are you going to boogey on down at the dance?”
“Are you?”
“No...I talked to Max...I...I don’t think I can go. Not with him.”
Trowa felt very satisfied at this, but at the same time, a little rotten.
“But...I don’t know. Maybe I might change my mind. He told me something really interesting, and I was thinking about it.” He shrugged a shoulder as Trowa lifted his head to give him a blank stare. “It sounded a little interesting, and...I don’t know. I should just go. I’m...I’m not going to be here for very long, and–”
“What? What do you mean by that?” Trowa asked, frowning as he lifted his head completely to look at him.
“I mean, after this semester ends, I’m going back to Laramie. I’m moving back there.” Quatre gave him a puzzled expression. “I thought Rashid told the lot of you...”
“I...I wasn’t there...” Trowa trailed off, slowly looking shocked. “You’re...not coming back?”
“No. They can’t afford to keep me here, Trowa. If I come back, it’s either because I got a scholarship to NPU, or something. And...I wasn’t thinking of attending here. I...I wanted North Carolina, or...I don’t know. I don’t know! I knew this since Christmas Break, and...it just....I don’t want to think about it. That’s why I’m trying to do a lot here, and trying to do things, and say things...”
“But...you can’t just go back! Things aren’t the same as they are here!”
“I know! It’s so...it’s going to be so different, Trowa! I mean, I came from a pretty close-minded town, came out here where everything fucking goes, then going back after having a taste of this? And...you...and everyone else...? I don’t want to go. I really don’t.”
“I don’t want you to go. What’s...what are we supposed to do, then?” Trowa asked, pulling away from him. “Just...things...things aren’t going to be fixed! We needed time, and time was hard, granted, but–! No!”
Quatre stared at him silently, then shrugged helplessly. “What can I do, Trowa? I can’t...they can’t possibly keep me here. Father had paid for only two years...last year and this one. And...Lana and Rashid can’t take over on the payments...”
“Things aren’t resolved, yet, Quat! And if we try to rush them–!”
“...I know, Trowa...I know....it sucks. I hate knowing it, and it sucks. I don’t...I don’t want to go. I made so many friends here, and I like it here, so much, and then going back there...” He shook his head in misery, reaching up to wipe at his eyes.
They were suddenly filling with wetness, and just knowing that Trowa was just as upset as he to know that he wasn’t coming back for his senior year just made things even more so...
Trowa stared at him in silence, then reached over to curl his fingers through Quatre’s. He held the boy’s hand, and lowered his head in mute disappointment, resuming his earlier position. Quatre held his head and resumed combing through his bang, silently crying that he had to leave it all behind once more.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Back at Darken, Triton was moping about in the entertainment room, flicking through the channels with a contemplative frown on his face. So many people were talking about what had happened to Quatre Winner, and while he himself felt shocked that something of that measure had happened, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about it. First off, while he’d definitely felt that he should go and see how the guy was doing, he just couldn’t. Hospitals didn’t do well for him, especially after he’d spent some time in mental health clinics for his disorder.
He’d rather wait until Quatre came back here before checking up on him.
Besides that, it wasn’t as if...well...as a teammate, he was concerned. But as for everything else? Well... it wasn’t as if he were in love with Quatre. After having sex with him that one night, things sort of...dimmed. Sure, he’d like to hit it a few more times just because it was good, but he wasn’t sure about the feelings part. As far as he was concerned, there wasn’t any feelings between them both. Hate the game, not the player.
Quatre was just...well, a warm, much appreciated toy.
He shrugged. The other team members were making an effort to go out to Grand Junction, but he was just going to wait. It wasn’t anything serious if he were in recovery and were to be released tonight. So, he’d just wait for the boy to come back to school to see him. It was better that way.
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Middie was nibbling hastily on her fingernails as she stared out her bedroom window that night, thinking about what she had done. She didn’t mean for things to get that bad–! She just wanted Quatre to get into trouble and get his arrogant ass kicked off the team. She hadn’t expected him to react to the drug as he did. So, when things happened that night, she was pretty much in shock. Her fellow dance team members had just took her mute shock as something understandable, as drug overdoses and such things were unfamiliar to them.
But she could only think about how much in trouble she was going to be once Jared snitched on her. She wondered if he had, and why it was taking the school so long to confront her. While she definitely felt guilty for being half of the reason why Quatre was in the hospital, she wasn’t going to turn herself in right just yet. He was okay–! He’d survived–! If he’d died, then that would be something to go suicidal over, but since he hadn’t and was supposed to be released tonight, then...then she was just going to wait. No one knew she was involved, and Jared had been arrested earlier this morning, so...if he had told on her, then she would have been taken away by now, right?
Still...this entire situation had her stomach in severe knots, and she knew she couldn’t tell anyone about it. After all, she was going to be a criminal after this was over and done! She’d deliberately drugged someone, and...and...her reputation would be shredded! Completely! Add to the fact that she only participated because she hated Quatre, and not really because of Trowa...because...ew. The more time she spent thinking about Trowa, the more she felt disgusted that the guy spent over five hours in bed with a woman that had allowed a dog to top her.
She shuddered. Nope. Trowa was out of her mind since that horrible thought! She would just keep the much-in demand video and view it whenever she was lonely, but that was about as close to Trowa Barton as she wanted to get from this point on.
So it wasn’t about Trowa, anymore. It was more like...ruining a life of someone she really disliked. And she really disliked Quatre–the blond was just so damn arrogant and shitty, and she had to show him what she felt for his general person! Though...she wasn’t going to confess that it was all her, she was just going to–!
She gasped and gave a start when someone knocked on her door.
She stared at the closed door with wide eyes, heart racing furiously. Wait–! She needed a lawyer! She needed to call her parents! What were they going to think of her now that she was a cold cut criminal? She didn’t want to answer...maybe...if she was quiet enough...they’d realize she wasn’t here...
The knock came again, and she gripped her bed with both hands, breathing heavily, but quietly. Controlling the sound with gulping swallows and forced exhales. She didn’t want to answer...but if it were the cops, they’d be working with security, and they’d know via heat and weight measure that she was in here!
Tears in her eyes, she got up from the bed and walked over to answer it.
“Middie!” one of her friends exclaimed. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Why are you crying?”
Middie had to shake her head. How ridiculous.
“Nothing,” she answered, wiping her eyes, careful of her makeup. “PMS.”
“Oh, really? Want some chocolate? Midol?”
“No...what’s going on? What’s up?”
“Nothing, I just wanted to see what you were doing...oh, Quatre should be here, tonight! I heard from Duo that he was coming back to school! Isn’t that just awesome! I would have been so scared if something like that happened to me!” her friend exclaimed, rolling her eyes and touching her chin with emphasis. Middie stared at her with a blank expression as comments of this sort continued.
Finally, Middie interrupted with, “You know, I’m tired. I’m going to bed, now, all right?”
“Oh, okay! See you later!”
Middie shut her door, and exhaled heavily. Suddenly, the room was too small. She needed to get out. She hurriedly threw on her jacket and changed into a pair of boots, then left her room.
Walking outside, she gulped in a breath full of cold air. She stared at New Park’s skyline, at the lights and the continuous air traffic. What was she going to do?
If Jared hadn’t told on her, then she should just take this gesture as a sort of calling, and just pretend that she didn’t have to do anything. If he wasn’t going to tell on her, why should she confess? It’ll be just her little secret–well, his and hers. And it was all his fault, anyway. After all, he was the one that started the entire thing–Middie was just going to hate Quatre from the sidelines until Jared got himself involved with her. He was the one that suggested this sort of action just to get him booted off the team so they could revel in his fall from basketball grace.
It was all Jared’s fault in the first place. She was just a helpless accomplice, nothing more.
She tucked her hands into her jacket, and began walking. If Jared did tell on her, she’d take that route. Maybe she wouldn’t get into much trouble.
She had just about reached the joint where she could either turn right for the athletic fields, or left for the gym, when she heard shouts. She turned to see a large group of kids that were gathered near the parking lot, and it was obvious he had come back. She about ground her teeth together with annoyance as the crowd gave their cheers and shouts for Quatre as if he were some sort of hero.
God, people have overdoses every fucking day, and they think he’s some sort of fucking saint, she thought in disgust, walking on. Well...if she did get into trouble, at least she had the satisfaction of knowing that he had been felled by an effort she considered her most devious yet.