Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Proof ❯ Chapter Five ( Chapter 5 )

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

Warning: Tons of name-calling, bad words, and teenagers ending their sentences in a question.

A/N: Thanks to all that are reading this so far. I'll be posting a chapter a week, depending on how satisfied I am with the story's direction. I just can't seem to end it properly, so I'm still writing it. Notice an inconsistency or have a question, confused by some things? Leave a comment!

Chapter Five

The park had its usual array of activity; mothers looking after young children, various adults walking through to access a shorter route into the main parts of town, teens heading or hanging after they'd left school. The playground was loud with their voices, swingsets squeaking loudly with use. Bart sat at a lone table in the back, picking at one of the candy bars he'd confiscated from Jake. The other teen was using his skateboard to cause chaos on some of the lesser used areas of the area, traversing from one to another with his usual array of action. It was almost comforting, this scene—he was lulled by the innocent activity behind him, and the casual, carefree measures of the teen he was watching over.

Beyond them lay the empty amphitheater, usual for festivals and such by the occupants of Highlands. The woodsy area surrounded the park, enclosing it with its strong enclosure. Though the air was cold and snow lay in dirty piles within the lawn areas, it, too, provided a sense of safety from dangers only Bart could envision. It was entirely youthful with its sense of security; completely opposite of New Park's high activity.

He scowled as Jake hit the sidewalk hard on a failed ollie. Though the teen picked himself up with a grumble, swiping at his dirtied clothes with nothing more than a sweep of a hand, Bart fretted. Jake's well-being was part of his duties, Bart's mysterious employer explicit in that Jake continue to turn out as innocent and naïve as he was today. As casual as he was in his seemingly self-inflicted injuries due to his clumsiness and uncoordinated physical actions, Bart still tended to think that the teen would somehow kill himself doing something of such measures.

It felt like a long time ago when he was appointed as Jake's bodyguard. To protect him from the nameless dangers that were interested in what continued to be his non-existent abilities, or to exact revenge for some wrong-doing his parents had committed back in their heyday. They encountered the sort from time to time, but the dangers had been lessened thus far. Now, Bart was drawn in only by the `normal' dramas and tribulations of day-to-day life that made up Jake's life. Which didn't mean he let down his guard—no, Bart was still searching for threats and dangers that only he could handle.

He thought of the scrapbook he'd been looking at the night before. While hesitant to ask, he was curious as to why the new deal about the soldier. He had to wonder if Jake had an idea of the truth, and that in itself made Bart curious. He really didn't want to deal with the emotional baggage, not really having any idea of what he was going to do with it, but his curiosity spurred his decision to ask.

“So, what's this deal about Ian Peters?” he asked as soon as Jake skated close. The teen nearly flipped backward as he came to a stop, and Bart cringed, waiting for the crash. But he managed to catch himself, bending and snatching his worn `board as he skirted over, digging out a Snickers bar from his backpack.

“Wassat?”

“Ian. Peters. In your scrapbook,” Bart repeated, slowly.

“Oh! Hell, that documentary last year? I forget the name, but it was, like, full of new footage an' stuff about my mom.” Jake settled himself across from him, jiggling his knee. “And I saw him and her. Interacting. I thought it was weird.”

“You don't know much about him, huh?”

“NO! I mean, completely outta no where, they show me this crap about this guy, who was completely invisible to me all this time.” Jake bit into the bar, chewing awkwardly while he thought about his next words. “So, I like, did all this research `bout him. Dad doesn't really know him, and Go and Drake were all clueless, too. I don't know of anyone to ask to see if mom really was close to this person. I mean, it got me all curious.”

Bart fiddled with the wrapper of his bar, frowning at the table. He debated the merits of telling Jake what he knew.

“I mean, it's not like there was some romance or anything,” Jake added with a snort. “He was just a Normal. What would she have to do with a Normal? And, a sorta like, `good guy' at that?”

“The military down there, they all advanced with the tech and weaponry needed to supply Normals in order to combat the Supers and Aliens. In a sense, they were almost equal,” Bart said.

“Yeah, but—! See, it makes sense if mom got with someone like dad,” Jake argued. “They were both equal. In a sense.”

“Sometimes, it don't haveta make sense to make things good,” Bart said, remembering a particular Lifetime movie, where a couple that defied `making sense' made their marriage work. He still wasn't sure if such things were quality lessons to be learned.

Jake gave him a disgusted look. “Are you saying you don't agree?”

“Look. Where I came from, this guy, you can say he was my master, he knew stuff. I told you about him, Long? He trained your mom back in the day, when she was startin' out. So he knew stuff, a lot of stuff that didn't make it out into the public.” Bart took a deep breath, feeling strangely guilty and intrusive as he then said, “He said Dallas and Vegas, the other two henches working under Boston? Merrick's right hand? He said those two complained constantly about her relationship with that guy. And they would know, because they worked with her.”

Jake stared at him, forgetting about his candy bar. Hearing parts of his mother's history always caught his full attention, and hearing such things from his bodyguard made him anxious to hear more. He was fully aware of Bart's connection, as loose as it was, to his mother. The teen had come from a man that had trained her in martial arts, and he didn't doubt for a second that Bart was telling the truth. He'd learned long ago that Bart didn't lie; but now he was anxious to hear what he had to say, unsure if he wanted to learn what he didn't know.

He thought of his father, his loyalty to his remaining parent. It bothered him to know, despite the troubles the pair had gone through at their age and time in life, that his mother may have had someone else. It bothered him deep inside to think that his mother was that lonely, that shrewd to have someone other than his father. Despite the fact that he knew of her public relationship with a Normal cosmetic heir, he hated the thought of his mother having something to do with a person that nobody really paid attention to.

He thinned his lips. “No. I mean, I'm curious about him an' all? But…but I don't think I want to hear stuff about them. It's…it's almost like betrayal of my dad.”

Bart was confused. “Your dad, when he was goin' through rehab, ditched her for a stupid, fat broad. What, you have no feelings for that?”

“I just don't like the thought of her being—being with that guy!” Jake then protested, waving his hand out. “I don't…he was Normal. He was this soldier, this—totally boring guy that waved a gun around and acted all beef—”

“You don't even know who he was, dude. What if he was cool?”

“Why are you arguing with me about it? I don't want to hear it. Not now, at least,” Jake then mumbled, fiddling with the rest of his candy. He ate it quickly, taking the time to carefully chew and wipe at his mouth while Bart wondered why the sudden shift.

He just didn't get the emotional twists and pulls of the other teen. Couldn't identify with it. He had figured Jake would want to know about the mysterious man; not deny his existence, his relationship, as questionably as it was, with the woman he publicly considered an idol of sorts.

He furrowed his brow, staring at Jake. He just didn't get it.

“Anyway, Long told me they had an understanding. And Dallas and Vegas covered for her whenever they crossed paths in public, or when they were working. It wasn't like…he was trying to get close to her because of his standing in the military. Long thought that…well…they just…had a connection.”

Jake snorted, fiddling with the wrapper. He stared at it, as if he were trying to set the thing ablaze with just the sheer intensity of his thoughts. “Whatever. I guess he was just so `understanding' that he blew his head off when she went missing. I bet he had something to do with her disappearance.”

“People say he killed her.”

“He couldn't have! No one could have killed her! She was just so, just so invincible! How could that Normal have anything to do with it?”

“I'm just saying. People like Long, they think he had a hand in it.” Bart shrugged. “I can't imagine how a Normal could have killed a Super like her.”

“Your Long had too many blows to the fucking head. There's no way Ian Peters killed my mom. He'd have to have a tank, or one of them big fucking guns to blast her away, and she could smell an ambush right away.”

“Or even Yoshida.”

“I can't imagine her trying to off my mom, either.”

“She went missing.”

“She was grieving! She truly missed my mom! It'd be like, well, it'd be like if Chase, or Gone left me.” Jake sulked for a few moments, annoyed at the conversation and the heaviness it took. He tossed the wrapper away from him. “Whatever. What's with this convo, anyway? What brought this up?”

“Saw that shit in your book. `s all,” Bart mumbled, confused at how the conversation had turned.

“Well, your sources are wrong. But…but despite it all, I wanna know what he had with my mom,” Jake muttered, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, his jacket muddied from his falls earlier. “I just…like, want closure. I guess. I wanna know where she is. If she's dead, what and who killed her. That stuff.”

Bart looked at him again, unable to figure out why Jake felt as he did. His full lips were pulled tight as he wondered why Jake wasn't eager to hear the rest of what he had to say. But if Jake didn't want to hear it, he wasn't going to continue on.

For a small moment, he found himself wondering how he himself would have turned out if his parents had only kept him.

To shake himself out of it, he inhaled and exhaled tightly. “Look. Sorry I brought it up. Just makin' conversation.”

“You're weird,” Jake commented, rising from the bench. “It was totally random. Wow! Look at that shiny thing!”

Bart snapped to attention to look, then scowled once he recognized one of his distraction tricks. He then watched him skate off, nearly hitting a woman pushing a stroller.

0o0o0o0

“You left me!” Jake complained the moment he walked through Gone's front door a couple of hours later. The bodyguards, Tom and Mitchell, gave them space as soon as they saw Bart follow in after Jake. The older men usually left the teens alone, secluding themselves elsewhere. Bart suspected it was because they couldn't handle Jake's hyperactivity.

Gone gave him a frown, chewing on a thumbnail. Having changed out of his school clothes, he had been prepared to make some snacks for Tweedy when the pair came in. Jake hadn't even dropped his school backpack off at home, but his clothes looked muddy, which told Gone he'd been out skating after school. He didn't even know how long he'd stayed behind to talk to Jameson, and the very notion pissed him off. He was jealous, and he couldn't handle that emotion very well.

He snapped, “You took too long talking to those guys! I wasn't going to wait all day for you to finish up.”

“So impatient that you made another date with someone else,” Bart muttered as he invited himself into the living room.

Gone frowned after him as Jake said, “All I wanted was candy. He was selling them for too high a price. We needed to do a little negotiating.”

“ `Negotiating',” Gone repeated, almost on a sneer. “Whatever.”

“Why are you pissed?”

Because he really couldn't say, too embarrassed over the very reasoning, Gone turned away from him, walking into the den. Jake awkwardly reached back into his backpack, and tossed a handful of candy at his back.

“I asked you a question,” Jake snapped, catching up to him to jerk at his shirt.

“Did you talk to him?” Gone asked in return, looking up at him with an examining expression. “Did you tell him?”

“Oh. Well, yeah. He's, like, cool with things. He just doesn't want to know details.”

“Why would he even ask?”

“I don't know! I'm just sayin—!”

“And now that he knows, you're not saying stuff, are you? Talking to him about our most, um, intimate things?” Gone asked, growing horrified at the thought.

“No! Wait…like what? What's `intimate' mean?”

“Look it up!”

“I don't want to!” Jake then snapped back, annoyed at the argument. “Just tell me!”

Bart returned to join them, starting to find the situation amusing; he didn't want to feel left out.

The den was structured with a mini-bar area, a high-def holoset that took up almost one entire wall, and various couches, easy chairs and small tables. Most of the wall space was littered with Go's achievements in the ring—framed news articles, pictures and smaller awards. Houseplants hung from various points of the ceiling, giving the whole area a sense of coziness.

“Asshole! Always with the attitude!” Jake huffed as he sat at the bar counter, propping his feet up onto a barstool. He slapped at Gone's notebook and pen nearby, scattering them carelessly. “Why do I even bother?”

“Yes, why do you?” Bart asked snidely.

Gone turned to face them again, kicking candy aside with his shoe. “Did you come over here to moon about your self pity?”

“I came over here,” Jake announced, “because I heard you've got company.”

Gone frowned at him. He then swallowed, feeling uncomfortable with the subject. He had been wondering why he'd even agreed to having Tweedy over.

“So? We're studying,” he said steadily, despite the anxiety he felt at the very notion of it. “In case you don't know what studying is, it's something you don't do.”

“Quit being shitty to me just because you got ignored today!”

“`Ignored'. You practically shoved me aside to get to the guy.”

“Well, you aren't hurt, are you? You know I wanted some of that candy!”

“Is that all?”

Jake scowled at him. “What do you mean, `is that all?'”

“You know exactly what I mean. Asshole.”

“No, I don't! Why don't you explain it to me?”

Bart exhaled heavily. “Is this what marriage is like?”

Gone threw one of the candy bars at him, causing him to duck. “Shut up.”

Jake rose from his stool, grabbed the bar as it landed on the counter, and tossed it back at Gone. “Don't talk to him like that! He don't need your shittiness, you fuckin' queen!”

“Fuck you, dickhead!”

“You are just—!” Jake paused in mid-shout, then sat down on his stool. He smirked. “No. Wait. You're doing this deliberately. I'm onto you. You don't want us around when that guy comes over, do you?”

“Correct. I need peace and quiet.”

“No, you just don't want us seeing you make googly eyes at him.”

Gone gave him an expression of disgust. Bart made a face as well, wondering if he'd actually have to see that.

“You're startin' shit because Tweedy's coming over. You want alone time with him, don't you? Why don't you just ask us to leave, instead of trying to start a fight with us?”

“You're so sharp, bud, you know exactly what's up,” Bart cut in, with fake enthusiasm.

Gone picked the candy bars up from the floor. He strode away from the den, Jake scrambling after him with haste, knocking various barstools over in his action. In the midst of it, he tripped and hit the carpet with a garbled noise, clawing at the floor to rise back up to his feet. Bart tried to catch him, saying, “It's a trick! Don't!”

Gone rushed to the food disposal, Jake flying after him. Stuffing the candy bars down into the disposal, Gone pushed at Jake to activate the machine. Jake pushed at him with his whole body, Gone meeting the action with a hip, trying to push him away so he could press the button.

“I paid ten bucks for those!” Jake growled, shoving Gone away easily, moving to rescue his candy. Bart jerked him back just in time, as Gone resteadied himself and slapped the button. Jake barely managed to evade getting his fingers caught as the candy became victim to the disposal.

“You asshole!”

“Get out of my house! You and your faggy boyfriend, and your stupid attitude! Get out!”

“Bitch! You are such a bitch!” Jake cursed, pushing him, then trying to kick him once Bart pulled him back. He jerked away, backing up a few steps. He made a dramatic show of calming himself down. Bart had to roll his eyes, but he was secretly amused by it all.

“I know what you're doing. And I'm not going to fall for it.” Jake frowned, and then cleared his throat as he straightened his clothes. “Again.”

“Hah!” Bart crowed, waving a finger in Gone's face. “Take note of that self control, son.”

“Please. You both are retards,” Gone muttered.

“I'm going to wait in here. Visit with the guys until Tweedy comes over. What's up, Mitch, Tom?” Jake then hollered, hailing the bodyguards as he found them in the living room.

Bart heard them groan. He looked at Gone with a smirk. “He knows what's up.”

“I don't want Tweedy thinking you're all—that you're all just—!” Gone growled, waving his hands around for emphasis. “Never mind. You're retards, anyway. Can't hide it.”

Bart bopped him atop of the head as he walked by.

0o0o0o0

The Darun house was normal in every way. Located in a quiet cul-de-sac, it looked something out of a realtor's guide. The two car garage, the wide driveway, the layered landscape…the inside of the house was clean, sturdy, and touched with a sort of clutter that made it look homey. There were fighting magazines littering every table top surface, old mail, clutters of nondescript papers…it sure didn't look like a prizefighter's home. Almost disappointed after a third-degree drilling of his background by the bodyguards, Tweedy followed Gone to the den. The younger teen was scowling, something Tweedy found humorous.

“What's up with you?” he asked, taking out the needed materials from his worn Adidas bag. He'd changed out of his school clothes as well, settling on a plain white t-shirt that emphasized his shoulders and arms, and baggy jeans. His hair was arranged to fall in a shaped manner underneath his well-placed beanie. “Looking a little cranky there.”

“I have unwanted company,” Gone muttered, sitting at a bar stool, setting a cordless phone down atop of his notebook.

For Tweedy, it was odd seeing the other teen in casual loungewear. Despite the old clothes that he wore with great care, seeing him in this state left the senior feeling as if he were glimpsing into something private. The younger teen looked more relaxed at home. Tweedy realized that his crush on the teen was getting a little stronger.

“Ignore anything that might happen.”

Tweedy nodded slowly, unsure of what he meant. As he shifted his backpack onto his knees, he grew to acknowledge the sensation of being watched. As he glanced up, flicking sandy blond hair aside, he realized that it wasn't Gone looking at him. He straightened in his stool to look around again until he realized Bart was standing nearby, nearly hidden in the shadows of the den. Startled, Tweedy looked away quickly.

Gone caught sight of the other teen, picking up an empty beer mug from the other side of the counter. He hurled it at Bart, annoyed that it was caught easily. “Get out of here!”

Tweedy had just opened his paper text when he realized that Jake was standing beside him, watching him closely. He couldn't help but recoil, startled at his proximity.

“What's up, man?” Jake asked quietly. “Gettin' your study on?”

“Yeah,” Tweedy answered, eyes darting here and there, wondering what was going on.

“Go home!” Gone snapped at Jake. Tweedy looked over to give an appeasing comment when he realized that Bart was standing on his other side, giving him a dead-eye.

“Sure you got the proper study materials, there, cowboy?”

“Y-Yeah,” Tweedy stuttered, unsure of what to do.

Gone growled, fingers balling into fists. “Will both of you please leave?!”

“As you can see, Go's not in. Does that bother you?” Jake asked Tweedy.

“Um…no. No, I wasn't here to see Go?” Tweedy stammered, giving Gone a questioning look. As if asking him silently what his friends were doing. “It…it doesn't bother me at all.”

“Jake, Bart, leave!” Gone commanded. “For fuck's sake, knock it off!”

The two backed away—but only to situate themselves comfortably into the easy chairs nearby. Both of them were staring hard at Tweedy, who shifted uncomfortably in his stool.

“I'm only here to study, guys,” Tweedy assured them, feeling sweat bead at his hairline. He was starting to think that they knew his secret. His skin grew clammy, and he started to panic at the thought that they'd out him. He didn't know the pair well—he wasn't sure what they were capable of doing.

Gone suddenly set the cordless phone down between them. He gave Jake and Bart a direct stare. “Jake, Bart, we're trying to study here, in the den of my home. Can you please leave? You're terribly distracting.”

“We're just sitting here,” Jake said coolly.

“As it is, I'm having a hard time in this class, and Tweedy's here to help me,” Gone continued calmly. “You and Bart are being deliberately distracting for no good reason. Go would be pissed if he finds out I've failed this class.”

“Bullshit,” Jake snorted. “We're just sitting here. Being out of the way.”

Gone gave him a snubbing gesture as he looked back at his work. “Sorry, Tweedy. I didn't think they'd behave this way.”

Tweedy nodded. “Um, it's okay. But, really, I'm the one in need of—”

“Jake. Bart.”

Three heads snapped up at the sight of Mr. James in the doorway, looking quite pissed. Tweedy was disappointed. He looked just like a normal, middle-aged guy. Non-threatening in appearance—save for the face. Those blackened eyes looked like they were ready kill at any moment's notice. It sent shivers down his spine, causing his skin to go clammy once more.

Jake jumped from his seat in a dramatic move, Bart looking stunned, then embarrassed.

“What the hell is the matter with you two?” Mr. James snapped at both. “Leave them alone. Go home this instant, and you should know better. Following him around like this, like you're both fucking children.”

As they were filing out, properly scolded and looking every bit of it, Tweedy noticed Gone depressing a button on the cordless. Jake noticed it as well, recoiling with flair.

“You sneaky little narc! I should kick your ass—! OW! DAD!” he then wailed as Mr. James grabbed his braid, roughly hauling him away.

“What'd I do?!” Bart protested as they were roughly led out the door.

To Tweedy, it was incredible how quiet the house was now that they were gone. He could hear the sounds of a holoset somewhere, but he couldn't place its position.

Gone sighed, still looking rather mortified by the entire ordeal. But it was really the first time Tweedy had seen him relaxed and somewhat normal. At school he was so stiff and so quiet, but he fit right in with the rowdiness.

“Finally. Sorry. They were so annoying.”

Tweedy stared at him, and then laughed. “Does this happen a lot?”

Embarrassed, Gone shook his head. “No. I don't have many people over…I guess this is why.”

Tweedy chuckled.

0o0o0o0

The next day, Jake strode over to Gone's house. Bart was due to arrive at any minute to take them to school, but he still had beef he needed to sort out, away from Chase's sensitive ears. He let himself in and called out a greeting to the `guards, racing up the stairway with a determined air. He burst into Gone's room, the younger teen looking startled as he pulled on his shirt, emerging from his private bathroom. Jake pushed him back through the doorway, not allowing Gone a chance to regain his footing. He pushed him again, Gone tripping to the floor with a startled cry.

“What was that all about, asshole?! Starting shit with me over what? Over that guy?” Jake snapped, standing over him. “What the fuck is that about?”

“You wouldn't leave! What else was I supposed to do?” Gone snapped back, startled that the encounter was started with hostility.

“It started before that! That shit with the candy! What, you all pissed off because I was talking to Jameson? What the fuck, G? I'm always talking to that guy; he's the only one that talks to me!”

“You left me standing there!” Gone growled, rising to his feet.

“So you're mad about that?!”

“You always do that! Whenever one of your stupid dream interests comes around, you forget that I'm there!”

Jake gave him a disgusted expression. “I do not!”

“You do! What am I supposed to think? Am I not supposed to be upset about it?”

“I'm totally free to do what I want! I wanna talk to a guy, I'm going to talk to him! You can't keep me from doing that sorta thing! What the hell's the matter with you?”

“Talk, yes, that's fine! Groping?! NO!”

“I don't grope!”

“You grope! You hang all over him! How do you think I feel when you're hanging all over someone?”

Jake frowned at him. “Well, so? It's not like…like I'm with them. I'm not thinking of bein' with them. I'm just…hell it's all like…”

“You grope them because I'm not built like that. That's the sort of guy you want, and I'm not that type. So you go and grope any available asshole that comes by! You don't care how I feel when you do it!”

“I do not! Don't be all shit-stupid!” Jake exclaimed, growing red in the face at the sheer nerve of the argument. “It's not like I'm doing it on purpose!”

“You do know what you're doing! You told me, before!” Gone snapped. “It's okay for you to do that sorta thing, and it's not okay for me to even study with someone?”

Jake waved his arms about. “Study? Hah! Is that what you call it? When have you ever hung out with that guy? You were studying anatomy, maybe!”

“You would think so! Cheater!”

Jake gave an outraged gasp.

Gone pushed at him. “Get out, asshole.”

Jake grabbed him, and then pushed him to the floor with an angry grunt. He strode out from the bathroom in a huff. “Forget you, you jealous dick! You still pull this shit, even after you know I ain't like that!”

Gone picked himself up from the floor and ran after him. He jumped onto his back, effectively knocking him to the floor. “I wouldn't be so jealous if you weren't jumping all over everybody, and expecting me to be okay with it!”

“Get off me! Get off!”

“You belong to me! You belong to me, I don't like it when you're playing around with someone else! I don't care if they're better looking, I just want you to pay attention to me!” Gone growled.

Jake gave him a startled look, unsure of how to grasp that situation before Gone leaned over and bit him hard over his forearm.

“OW!” He looked at his arm in dismay, seeing that it was bruising immediately. The pain caused sheer tingles up and down his limb, causing him to draw his arm in to hold it against him. The pair hurriedly climbing to their feet. “What'd you do that for?”

Breathing hard, Gone slumped his shoulders. “I…I don't know. I just…got so angry.”

“Well, you don't bite people. Gone! You don't bite people when you're angry! You do this to Go, too? When you're mad at him, do you do this to him?”

“…No.”

“Then what the fuck?!”

“You don't know what it's like to, just…like a person for so long, and never knowing if you're ever going to be with them, and then once you have them, knowing that you're so inadequate and could lose them to some—! You just don't know, all right?”

“You're psychotic! You—you dick!” Jake examined the bitemark again, hissing at he touched it. A near perfect set of teeth reflected back to him, and he stamped a foot in agony. “Argh, why the fuck did you bite me?”

“I said I don't know! I'm sorry, all right?” Gone apologized. “I'm sorry. I just got angry.”

“Well, when I'm pissed at someone, I yell at them! I don't bite them!”

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Jake.”

“I'll bet you are. Walk your dumb ass to school. Or do you want me to call Tweedy to come pick you up? Fuckin' biter,” Jake said with a huff, striding out from the room.

Gone watched him go, feeling extremely upset over the whole situation.

0o0o0o0

Chase and Bart were waiting in the James' driveway when Jake left Gone's house. Getting into the passenger seat with a huff, both teens looked up from their conversation over music stations. Jake held out his arm for all to see.

“Gone did this to me,” Jake complained. “He fuckin' bit me!”

“Why?” Chase asked, looking puzzled.

“Let's just go,” Jake then ordered Bart, pounding on the dash with a fist. “Leave his ass here to walk to school.”

“It could'nt've been that bad,” Chase protested, looking worried as Bart moved to comply. “Don't leave him, man.”

“Go, Bart! He knows we're leaving him. Just go,” Jake snapped.

“I have to listen to him,” Bart muttered to Chase's protests.

“Well, why'd he bite you?” Chase asked, leaning between the seats. “What'd you say to him?”

Jake shook his head, scowling out the window. Chase pushed a shoulder, prodding him to talk.

With a smirk, Bart said, “Jake's mad because that guy Tweedy was at Gone's home last night.”

“Shut up, Bart!”

“Tweedy?! What the fuck is Winston Tweedy doin' at Gone's?” Chase asked, bewildered.

“ `Studying'.”

“Shit. Baseball's coming up, and all those jocks are getting their friendly on with the nerds to make sure they qualify.”

“G got all mad because me and Bart were there last night to make sure it wasn't all that,” Jake exclaimed. “He got dad over there to haul us out.”

Chase shook his head, sitting back in his seat. “Well, if isn't about grades, it's something else. Peeps been saying that Tweedy's a fudge-packer, anyway. Just don't act normal. Hell, you see the way he fixes his hair?”

“That ain't proof he's homo,” Jake muttered. “I always hear about him and the girls' soccer team.”

“Dude, McAllister's, like, team captain for the boys, right? He's going out with the girls' cap'n, that hoochie Sara. Sara told McAllister that the night in question at an away game up south, Tweedy was letting the girls put make-up and shit on him. He wasn't trying to boo on any of the girls, either. He was just hanging with `em. Just to do it.”

“So? Lotsa guys do that just to get the girls to like `em!”

“But also, ALSO, assholes,” Chase raised his voice, as if he weren't already loud enough, “when the girls were givin' tips on how to snag, Tweedy was in it, too. Only he weren't saying nothing about girls. Some of those soccer dykes were saying that Tweedy was gay. The dykes, dudes. If the dykes are talking about it, you know it's true!”

Bart gave a solemn nod of his head. “That there's real definite proof.”

“Wowiee, Chase, you really are in the know,” Jake said sarcastically. Then he blinked. “There are actual lesbians on the soccer team? How come I didn't know this?”

“I'm serious, people! Even Anthony, his wingman, said Tweedy's gay. So I'm thinkin' Tweedy's going after G, because everyone thinks G's gay anyway.” Chase kicked their seats in maniacal action. “That fuckin' fag better not be hitting on G! What's G going to do about it when he sees Tweedy's all hard-up for him? He isn't going to do anything! I'mina ask G what the fuck was up with last night.”

“Chill out, you overexcited dick,” Bart ordered, pulling into the school parking lot with a relieved expression.

“Why would Tweedy go for Gone, anyway?” Jake asked, bewildered. “I mean, just between us, he's not exactly…y'know…attractive or anything.”

Bart cleared his throat loudly and deliberately, Jake shooting him a warning expression before getting flustered.

“Cuz G won't say anything. Who's G gonna tell? You think he tells us anything? NO! I mean, you fucking found out that he was getting beat up by those nerds cuz you saw it happen that one day, Jake! He's not gonna say shit! Tweedy's going after G's ass, man, and I'mina make sure that ain't happening! Let me out, J,” Chase then ordered, pushing at Jake's seat once Bart parked and switched off the car. In a flurry of sound, both boys tumbled out into the snowy mush of the parking lot.

Bart sighed and popped open a packet of energy gel, preparing himself for a long day.

0o0o0o0

Tweedy was laughing with his friends near the cafeteria when he heard his name bellowed through the halls of the school. Only one student had a voice like that, so he grimaced as he turned to see Chase racing for him, Jake and Bart right on his heels. Tweedy felt a slight twinge of panic as he realized Chase had a rather angry face on him.

“What the hell is wrong with these people?” he muttered, more for himself than to his friends.

“Hey, Tweedy, nice hair,” Chase said snidely, reaching up to muss his shag. “What'cha doin' there, buddy? How'd it go with my friend, Gone, last night?”

“You went to Darun's house?” Anthony asked Tweedy, giving him a surprised look. The dark haired, six foot three shortstop had been Tweedy's best friend for years. To know that Tweedy had done something without his knowledge was startling for him. “Was Go there?”

“Dude…we studied. That's all. All we did was study for Physics,” Tweedy said, answering both questions. “He's good at it, and I needed help for this test coming up.”

“For Dillon's class? Dude, gimme your notes,” another one of his friends said, pulling at his backpack.

“Lemme talk to you alone,” Chase then said, swinging one skinny arm around Tweedy's neck and dragging him off to the side. “Me and G are tight, right? We grew up together.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Y'know G's no fag, right? I mean, we all make fun of him and say shit, but he isn't.”

“Get off me!” Tweedy snapped, shoving him aside. “What the fuck, Bellows? Why are you saying shit like that?”

“What the fuck is this about, Bellows?” Anthony chimed in, pushing Chase easily into the wall.

Jake shoved him away, squaring up when the senior caught himself to glare at him. “Leave him alone, dickhead!”

“I don't have a problem with you, Jake!”

“You will if you keep that shit up!”

Chase pointed at Tweedy in warning. “You know what I mean, Tweedy. It isn't like that! It isn't gonna be like that! Not with my buddy!”

“What the hell is going on?” Anthony asked, truly puzzled as to why they were attacking his friend.

“All of you are fuckin' insane,” Tweedy snapped, glaring at each member of the trio. “Like he's not allowed to have friends outside of you.”

“Who?” Anthony cried.

“That Darun kid,” another kid chimed in with a baffled look. “They're fighting about that Darun kid.”

“Why?”

“Fuck if I know!”

“Not fag friends—!” Bart silenced Chase with a chokehold, dragging the taller boy after him so he'd cool down. Jake paused to look at Tweedy with what Tweedy thought was a worried expression. Before Tweedy could decide that it was, Jake hurried after the others.

“What's that all about?” Anthony asked, giving Tweedy a bewildered look.

“I dunno,” Tweedy muttered, turning away. “They're fuckin' crazy.”

“Well, why are you hanging out with that Darun kid? That's weird.”

“I told you, Tony, for Physics!”

“But he's not even good! That Trevor kid was telling Charlie here that he doesn't even get good grades in that class! Why are you picking on him?”

“That Trevor bastard's wrong. Anyway, whatever.”

“But that's weird,” Anthony insisted, following after him. “Why are these guys all mad about it?”

“I don't know!” Tweedy nearly shouted at him, stomping off, annoyed by the entire encounter. During the incident, kids had gathered in a speculative group nearby, waiting for fists to fly. As he walked, a few of the girls broke away from the group to grab and question him, following him down the hall with their excited chatter and words of comfort.

Anthony watched him go. He turned and looked at the others, mind racing with confusion and doubt. He had no idea Tweedy was hanging out with Gone, and it truly perplexed him as to why Tweedy would pick him out of everybody else in the school to get help from.