Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Proof ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Chapter Four

The next morning, Tweedy waited at his locker, fiddling with his notebook and paper texts. There was a small group of female freshmen next to him, and one of them was a girl that he knew had a crush on him. Her adoring expressions and shy yet excited greetings were always given a response, but he wasn't about to encourage anything with her.

He watched Jake James sail by, riding piggy-back on Chase Bellows. Both teens were whooping and yelling over something as they crashed through the crowded hall, a couple of teachers yelling warnings without any real muster. Barton McKinley followed at a slower pace, looking pained. A heavyset sophomore with a cute face hollered a morning greeting to him, making him scowl in that direction.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he caught Gone at his locker down the hall, quietly exchanging what he had in his backpack to his locker. Tweedy noticed that a couple of the nerdier students were saying something to him until they noticed him. The pair hurried away, talking between each other while glancing back at him. They then made a beeline for the group of freshmen girls that Tweedy had just left behind.

“Hey,” he then said in greeting, startling the teen. “Hey, hi, Darun? Did you do last night's assignment for Physics? I had this huge setback on one of the problems…”

Gone gave him a deer in the headlights stare. He then cleared his throat, flushing as he looked down at the items he'd gathered in one arm. “Uh…sure. Yes, I finished it.”

“Awesome. Look, is it all right if we meet before class? We can, y'know, go over it, or something. I really need a good grade in this class before the season starts,” Tweedy said, feeling strangely elated the more he spoke.

“But—! I'm not—I'm not really good at—at these things. Um…why don't you ask Clara Robinson over there? She's tutoring—”

“Oh, I can't stand her,” Tweedy said with a frown, waving off the potential valedictorian. “Y'know? She hates guys that plays sports.”

“Oh…oh. Okay. Um…”

“Look, let's meet in the library, all right? It shouldn't take that long. Hey, see ya there, okay?” Tweedy then left, even as Gone stammered a negative.

Tweedy was determined to find out if his suspicions were true. He only wanted the comfort of kinship, the knowledge that he wasn't the only gay teen in hiding. If it worked in that he helped Gone recognize his sexuality, then it was a time well spent.

Later on, he looked up from his notebook to see Gone venture over, hesitation and doubt clear on his face. Tweedy indicated the chair next to him and started talking of the problem before the other could sit down. The library was quiet and secluded, the librarian taking a break with the PE teacher inside her office.

A few minutes later, Gone helped him solve the problem, looking relieved that he was able to do so. Once Tweedy understood where he'd gone wrong, he flashed the teen a grateful smile.

“So, season practice starts in, like, two weeks? After basketball conference finals,” he said, grasping at anything to say to keep the teen's attention. Gone only gave him a polite listening expression. “I play first base. I signed onto Oregon State's team earlier this year.”

“That…that's great.”

Tweedy studied him as he pulled his backpack together. His faded ring tee showed off his thin shoulders and chest, the worn material depicting the logo of a soft drink. The teen definitely wasn't feminine in appearance—his masculine features were obvious. But it was almost as if Tweedy were looking at a different sort of human species, and wondered if Gone had some form of Alien ancestry in him.

“So,” he said quickly, noticing that Gone was getting ready to leave. “Uh, what do you do after school?”

Gone gave him a puzzled look. Tweedy had never noticed before, but the other teen's eyes were an icy blue shade—hooded with thick, dark brown eyebrows. The dark material of his shirt really caused the color to pop. Tweedy was now surprised by the twinge of interest he felt. Which confused him as he rose quickly, gathering his things to him. His height had him towering over the other, who was shrugging in response to his question.

“Nothing. I…I just hang out with Jake and Bart all the time,” Gone answered, reaching up to comb his fingers through his stick-straight hair with nervous action.

“Huh. You're tight with those guys, huh?”

“Well…” Gone trailed off, looking beyond him for an instant, then back at him again, as if he were deciding over the answer. He started to chew on his thumbnail, his anxiety apparent.

Tweedy gave him a smile. “You act like I'm going to bite you.”

Gone shifted uncomfortably, flushing and eyeing his ratty Converses. “Well, no. I just…I'm surprised.”

“It's normal to wonder what others are doing,” Tweedy said, gesturing at the door. “`Sides, we've never really spoken outside the classroom before.”

“Um, yeah. That's right,” Gone said, quickly opening the library door before Tweedy could reach it. “Well, uh, yes, I'm…close to Jake. And…Chase. Bart, not so much.”

“He's from New Park, right?” Tweedy asked, moving to slow his steps but Gone was used to walking fast to keep up with his taller friends, so Tweedy adjusted his stride.

“…Yes.”

“Thanks for helping me out,” Tweedy said once they reached their shared class. “Y'know, we should, like, study together some time. You can help me, and I can talk your ear off.”

Gone gave him a shy smile, having to tilt his head back to do so. He said nothing as he made his way to his assigned seat, Tweedy following after him. “Well? You think?”

“…That's fine. It's fine.”

“Awesome.”

Tweedy sat back in his chair, feeling accomplished. Talking to Gone was easier than he thought—he just had to get over his initial nervousness in actually doing so. Not that he was intimidated or scared, but in that he didn't want to reveal himself so quickly. He didn't want to put anybody in such an awkward position. He kept feeling those twinges of interest hit him, though. With a certain sort of acknowledgement, he knew that the more he spent time with Gone, he was going to develop some feelings for the other. He'd done it before with a couple of friends, and learned to live with unrequited interest due to heterosexuality.

But he knew that once he made it out of Highlands, he would have more options than he'd ever thought he would. He just had to wait it out and settle for a crush or two among his current peers.

0o0o0o0

It was PE. Jake had been thinking all day in how to tell Bart of his relationship with Gone. Although Bart had hinted around that he already knew, Jake knew he had to say something to clear the air. Bart didn't seem like a homo-hater; just that he wanted to know nothing of it. He didn't get into the bashing as much as Chase did. Merely skirted around the issue.

Maybe breaking the news to him would be easy. Jake wondered just how to bring it up. But he kept finding himself distracted by last night's messing around. Gone sure learned fast in how to manipulate him, he realized.

He grimaced then, sitting quickly as another stirring of his penis made it uncomfortable for him to stand. Looking around the gym, where Mr. Bradley allowed free activity, he spotted Gone listening to Chase tell him some outrageous tale from basketball practice, the pair of them sitting on the bleachers at the far end. Most students were milling around with volleyballs and footballs, and Jake had one of the former cradled in his hand.

He hadn't bothered entering into any athletic fray because of his uncontrollable urges. It was starting to drive him insane. Bart was shooting hoops with a couple of the basketball jocks nearby. Watching him, Jake wished he could be just as cool as Bart was. Reacting coolly to any situation, saying the right things to adults, making friends simply by being.

It would also help to look like him, too. Bart was brawny because he trained every day—getting up early to run a few miles, train with both the short swords and hand-to-hand combat with a holographic trainer. He was damn good with flexibility. The guy could pounce into random gymnastic moves without a single strain. Jake wished he had the same coordination as Bart had. Maybe people would like him better.

As it were, the kids around him ignored him, careful to keep their distance. Despondently he looked around, wishing he could just be that popular kid. That kid that got along with everybody and said the right things. It was no use wanting such things, he decided, frowning at the group of kids nearby. It wasn't that easy to change people's minds when theirs were already set.

Bouncing the volleyball with an absent-minded action, Jake frowned and tried to think of the best way he could go about his task. He looked over at Bart again, trying out sentences in his head and failing with each one. Sighing, he looked over at Gone to find the other teen smiling at him, as if he could read Jake's thoughts from across the gym. Unable to help himself, Jake smiled back. He started to feel giddy as he realized that Gone had had feelings for him for ages. Because the same expression that Gone was wearing now was the very same one he'd shared for years. It amazed him that somebody could like him the way that Gone did.

It finally hit him, how to break it to Bart. Calling the other over, Jake gave Gone a thumbs-up, and the younger teen watched anxiously, chewing on a thumbnail while Chase continued to talk.

Once Bart sat down beside him, exhaling heavily as he wiped sweat from his face, Jake nudged him with his knee.

“Hey. Just so you know me and Gone are tugging each other's dicks.”

Bart choked.

“But if people know about it, they're going to fuck him up. And I won't like that,” he said, giving Bart his best glare.

Bart used his t-shirt collar to wipe at his face. “Like it's news for me to spread.”

“So…you won't say anything?”

Bart watched the teens he'd left behind continue to shoot baskets. In his peripheral vision, he could see Jake waiting for his answer. “It's not my place to gossip.”

“It's really important that people don't know. I could give a fuck about how'd they'd react to me, but I'm serious. Go would freak out. These kids around here do anything to him cuz they found out, I'm going to have you going in to bust heads. Or at least help me out doing it,” Jake added. “I'm serious, dude. Don't say anything.”

“I won't.”

“I really like him, B. He's the only one that likes me back.”

“So, this is one of those desperation scenarios?”

“I mean it, B. It's just…he's everything I need right now.”

Bart couldn't quite understand why Jake felt that way about another guy. But it wasn't his place to say. “…I'm going to barf.”

Jake punched him, but felt uplifted once he realized that Bart was going to hold true to his word. “Thanks, man. I knew you'd be cool about it.”

Bart shrugged a shoulder. At least he'd found out the day before.

“Whatever. I knew,” he muttered, reaching up to make sure his hair was still in place.

Jake exhaled heavily, dribbling the volleyball once more. His nerves were jittery. He felt as if he'd emptied a heavy weight from his shoulders. “Awesome. You're awesome. I knew my awesome taking would help you out.”

“You ever fart on me again, I'll lay you out and run you over.”

Jake laughed.

0o0o0o0

After school, within the confines of Bart's apartment, he ignored the sounds of Jake and Chase going through the limited options of his music entertainment. He zipped through various options set before him to sort through his email, junk letters from various acquaintances from New Park, and underground news forums that allowed him to keep an eye out for plots on Jake's life.

The small two bedroom apartment was located within Highlands' center, behind the main shopping district. An eight minute drive from the cul-de-sac, and a ten minute hike from school. It was equipped with the very basic of things—all his daily life were that focused on Jake. There was a projector set on the entertainment center that looked like a home theatre system, but really projected holographic AI's of fake parents; his cover in that he was a single child for a pair of non-English speaking parents that were trying to make it in Portland with ethnic fashion for minorities. It was activated by voice, something Bart could turn off and on with just a greeting.

The back bedroom was opened wide, revealing a set-up of what an adults' room should be—he changed the haphazard mess of clothes and various toiletries daily just in case apartment staff had to come in. The smaller room was the one he slept in—the closet was cramped with his essential style-ware. A dresser that lined one wall was littered with toiletries, cologne and various weaponry projectors that looked like accessories.

He caught sight of a Starz article that detailed Jake's fashion sense—the paparazzi were really grasping at some sliver of news. The paps had caught many of Jake's casual wear in order for so-called fashion police to pick apart. As usual, his hairstyle was the top of disdain; an article had even given him Photoshopped hairstyles from various well-known actors to help him sort out the mess. There were a couple of shots from yesterday that made him wince.

“Dude I can't win with these people,” Jake moaned, catching sight of the article. “And what the hell's wrong with my hair?! It's original! I wanna grow it out a little. Like that guy's in that movie we watched the other day.”

“Oh yeah, I know the one,” Bart said sarcastically.

“Sistah, you lack style,” Chase commented. “Look at that mess. Man, I look good if you look at me long enough.”

“I like those shoes! And what's wrong with my jeans? I like `em dark and wide!”

Chase suddenly erupted into laughter, sending stabs of pain through Bart's thoughts.

“I even hem those puppies,” Jake added, lifting a leg to show off his work. “Dad taught me how to do this back in middle school, son, and this daddy can make it work.”

“Why are you hemming your pants? That's stupid. Look at this fashion awesome,” Chase said, lifting a leg to show off his tattered hems. “Now that's style.”

“You stepped in dog-shit, asshole.”

“Not on my carpet!” Bart shouted, whirling around to investigate and finding that Jake was only pulling his chain. Grumbling, he returned to the computer.

“Who am I with this week?” Jake asked, touching the page turner on the holographic article and finding what he was looking for. There was an older picture of himself and a Winter Fest Queen photo of the school's head chick. The article detailed a rumored romance between the pair, based on what `sources' around them had to say. “Oh, snaps. Leslie Miller!”

“She's a hottie. Look at those double D's!” Chase crowed. “You dawg.”

“I am like that, my protégé. I can get the ladies easily.”

“LIAR! You've never touched a girl in your life! And G don't count!”

“Well, still, if I were interested in one of these beeyouches here at school, they would definitely know it. As it is, I'm more interested in the older ladies.” Jake wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “You know what they want.”

“Your D? HAH!”

“NO!”

Bart waved them away, causing Jake to close the article. “I can't sit here with you two girls screaming in my ears. Chillax, shit.”

“Papa's hearing aid's on the fritz,” Chase commented, jamming a thumb in Bart's direction as he strolled toward the kitchen. “What'cha got for your guests, here, Bart-ola? Mm…wait. Is this that wheatgrass shit? I told you about that stuff, man. It'll make your dick shrink.”

“HAH! Chase said `dick'!”

“I did not!”

“Get out of my fridge!” Bart shouted automatically, not putting any effort into it. Jake shifted away from him to join Chase in the kitchen, both of them digging through the various cupboards within their reach. With a sigh, Bart closed out of his email and began scanning the forums, finding mention of several people he had known in New Park. Other than that, nothing stood out for him to be interested in, and he closed the laptop down.

0o0o0o0

“So, we have this test coming up. Next Wednesday?” Tweedy said the next day, looking over the study packet he had yet to complete. “How about I drop by your house tonight, and we can go over this?”

Gone looked at him with a start, holding his locker open. It was the end of the school day, and though he'd noticed that Tweedy was talking to him more, growing uncomfortably persistent in `hanging out' with him, he was a little thankful for a distraction.

Off to the side, Jake was busy talking to Jameson and his friend, haggling the price of candy. He had been standing there with them for the better part of five minutes, now, and Gone had gotten impatient. And angry, because Jake kept touching him—playful punches, nipple pinches, noogies. It was normal boy behavior between them both, but it was still annoying to see.

Bart was grumbling next to Gone, making sure that he was within reaching distance of the three boys. Once he noticed Tweedy was talking to the younger teen, he looked over with a scowl. He gave the other boy a measuring inspection, sizing him up for any threats. It made Tweedy feel incredibly self-conscious, being checked out by another boy, and he felt himself flush.

Tweedy glanced at Gone for an answer. “So is that okay?”

“Y—you want to study?” Gone repeated dumbly.

“Yeah. For the test? If that's all right. It's Thursday, and I've got nothing to do.” Someone called out his name, and he turned in reaction, spying that female frosh giving him a quick wave as she walked by. Automatically he waved back.

“Um…” Gone was at a loss for words.

“Go ain't gonna be there,” Bart said, a touch snidely. He leaned over to crowd Tweedy's space, fingers curling over the locker door to keep it out of his face. “If that's what you're looking for.”

Tweedy had no beef with the guy, but he could feel himself tensing up. Bart had a brawny frame about him that made him look intimidating. “I don't…I don't want to see Go? We have this test coming up in Physics that I need help with.”

“What, you can't find the answers yourself?”

Gone's response was to slam his locker shut, effectively catching Bart's fingers in the process. The Superhuman growled while Tweedy gave the younger teen a startled expression. Gone glared at Bart. “Heel, boy.”

“I'm gonna beat you bloody, you little—!”

“I'll be home around sixish,” he said, walking away from Bart as he cursed at him. “But I have to warn you now, Go has bodyguards that'll give you the third degree once you arrive.”

Looking away from Bart, who managed to pull his fingers free, Tweedy cautiously turned his back to him and followed Gone away from the locker. “Okay. Th—that's cool. That's all it is, man, is just studying. You probably get that sorta thing all the time, huh? People wanting to see Go.”

Gone shrugged, sliding on his backpack.

“Okay. Okay, see ya then.” Tweedy then walked off, glancing back at Bart once more.

“`Tch,” Bart muttered, examining the damage he'd caused to Gone's locker. With his fist he thumped the metal back into place, but the resulting scar was a rippled effect that he knew the janitor would freak out about.

“Hi, Bart,” Holly greeted. Her bountiful figure was covered today, and though her clothing presentation was something he noticed as well thought out, he just didn't have any interest in her. “Heading home for the day?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you waiting for Jake?”

Duh, he wanted to say. He started to look away without response when she stepped again in his line of view, a bold move on her part. Apparently, his indifferent response wasn't something that'd discourage her easily.

“What are you going to do tonight?” she asked.

“Nothin'.”

“My family's having this get together down in Olive Garden,” she said, adjusting her notebook and magazines closer to her bosom. “You guys are invited to come. It's a sort of thing for my older sister, for an article she wrote for the Washington Post. She's a reporter. Interested?”

“No.”

“Okay, but I'm telling you, you guys can eat for free,” she said, undeterred by his answer. “Don't you want free food?”

Bart finally looked at her, but only to make his point clear. “No.”

For a few moments, Holly stood with a frozen smile on her face, but she quickly recovered. “Okay, then. It's too bad. Hey, see you tomorrow, bright and early!”

He watched her walk away, but only because he hated the way that she'd styled her hair, staring at the blue-black strands with a curled lip.

By the time Jake pulled away from Jameson, he realized that the halls had pretty much cleared out. Holding an armful of candy, he frowned at Bart. “Where's Gone? He was just here.”

“Made a date with someone else,” Bart muttered, shifting away from the lockers. “That'd better not be all yours…”

“Nah, the Snickers is all mine. That's all.”

Bart noticed that there were five King-sized Snickers bars there. He snatched most of the candy away from him, stuffing it all into his jacket pockets while Jake protested. “You eat too much candy, and you get all hyper.”

“Why'd G leave me? He knew I wanted to walk home with him, today,” Jake whined, dumping the rest of his candy into his backpack and then sliding that on. In the process, he managed to smack Bart's face with the bottom of his bag, causing the other teen to stumble. “Was he talking to that Winston guy again?”

“Tweedy. Calls himself `Tweedy'.”

“What for?” Jake then asked, picturing the senior and feeling a twinge of something unidentifiable. He stumbled over his own feet, Bart catching him before he could fall. “What'd he say?”

“Somethin' about a test coming up. Wants to study with him. Tonight, at his house,” Bart said, feeling uncomfortable about the whole situation. He knew he was going to be dragged into something stupid.

“Tweedy's going to Gone's house? When?”

“Six. Ish. Why?”

“Hmm. Dunno. Just…just asking.”

Ignoring the typically overcast day, Jake strode out from the school and turned toward the west, toward their cul-de-sac. Bart followed him, pulling his cellphone from his pocket and dialing a few numbers. Within the student parking lot, his black Chevy Knight roared to life. Once he had the coordinates set, Bart would expect to see his car parked at Mr. James' house before they could even reach the cul-de-sac.

“Sometimes these assholes just use him. Think I'd better just…go…supervise. Yeah. Ya know, hang out. While he's there.”

“…You're jealous. You're fuckin jealous,” Bart realized, giving his charge a startled look.

Jake whirled quickly, the action only allowing him to take out another student with his backpack. “I am NOT!”

With a roll of his eyes, Bart kept in stride with Jake's quick steps. The skateboard that Jake currently had bounced heavily within its special pocket on his backpack, threatening to konk the teen over the head.

“I'm just saying, as his longtime friend, I just want to make sure that nothing happens. Tweedy's—well, I don't…I don't really know him…” Jake trailed off, frowning. “The matter of the fact is, I just want to make sure he don't pull anything on my—on my little buddy. That's all.”

Bart snorted. “Sure. Whatever. Just admit you're jay.”

“Tweedy's in it for the girls anyway,” Jake said with a scoff. “I always hear about him messing around with the soccer girls at these parties…can't you, like, Google him for me?”

“I'm not looking up this guy just to satisfy your curiosity. Though, I might have to, just to…y'know…check things out. Make sure he isn't some sort of…threat.”

“Great. Give me the details. We're gonna have to be there, pal. You work the muscle, and I'll just be…myself. We'll make sure Tweedy don't start anything.”

Bart shook his head. He'd seen plenty of this type of drama on Lifetime. He was sure he could handle it, he just didn't want to.