Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Proof ❯ Chapter Twelve ( Chapter 12 )

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

A/N: Story's been put on hold. I wrote out the ending, but it was too boring for me. :O So once I finish up with my other projects, I'll continue. Leave a comment!

Chapter Twelve

Though the jocks gave their icy glares, the group was left alone. The day passed by without another incident, but Bart couldn't help but feel that it wasn't quite over, yet. Chase and Jake were still talking excitedly about the basement, Gone giving his sulky two cents about the entire thing, and that Holly Gellum continued to hang out by his side, as if she'd earned the spot. It made Bart uncomfortable to be continuously `flirted with'. All her compliments, her adoring expressions were things he felt discomfort with. He had no idea how to deal with it.

Tweedy hadn't shown up at school, and he noticed that people were in a buzz over it. There were conflicting stories about the reasoning; that he had a brutal falling out with Anthony, that the jocks were ostracizing him over his involvement with Gone, that he had the stomach flu. Anthony looked sulky, but the moment Bart made eye contact with him, the smug smirk on his face told Bart that Anthony was determined to get his revenge in some form.

It was all highly entertaining. Better than a Lifetime movie. He wanted to know what else Anthony was going to do in trying to best him.

Holly finally left them alone when they parted ways in the parking lot. As she hurried off to her giggling friends, most of whom waved and shouted their goodbyes to the group of boys, Bart exhaled heavily with expectation and looked at his charge.

“I can't believe that's all it took to get the girls to pay attention to us,” Jake said, almost airily.

Gone scowled at him.

“You might have some hope yet, J, my buddy. We'll get that virginity of yours lost before you graduate,” Chase planned.

“Oh man, that'd be so—!” Jake interrupted himself to point across the parking lot. “What was that shiny thing?”

“What? Where?”

Bart resisted the urge to slap his forehead, seeing the apologetic look Jake flashed to Gone, the other pointedly ignoring him. Once Chase realized Jake had tricked him, the boy jumped on him, both of them stumbling about with shouts and random curses. Gone quickly skirted out of the way once it seemed they'd crash into him.

“Are we going home or what?” he asked impatiently.

“Park!” Jake chirped happily.

“I got practice at six! I wanna hang with you guys!” Chase whined, tightening his arms around his neck.

Once they reached Bart's car, Chase gave a strangled sound, sliding off Jake's back. Bart looked at him until he saw his car; his eyes widened and he nearly choked himself. The doors, hood and trunk had been viciously keyed with random scratches and racial slurs.

He moved to curse as Jake gasped low in shock; but Bart caught himself, looking around the parking lot and noticing that several of the jocks were watching him from their trucks nearby. Fury burned within him, nearly igniting his need to slay before pulling himself in check. Even as it burned at him to react, he took a deep breath, unlocked the doors, and ordered the gaping teens to get in. If he reacted badly, they'd win. The trio turned to stare at him, waiting for some sort of reaction and finding none. Their expressions turned into that of disbelieving upset, expressing everything he would only allow himself to feel internally, surprised at the intensity.

“You pissed? That's fucked up, Bart, what they did,” Jake said, forehead knotted as he studied his bodyguard's face.

“Are you going to do something about it?” Chase squeaked, towering over them and gripping his backpack with white knuckled hands. Gone stared at him, looking wide-eyed and horrified as the others.

“No,” Bart replied, his teeth clenched. “No, I won't. Because if I did…I'd fuckin' kill `em. All of them.”

“I wouldn't blame you,” Jake said, sliding into the backseat, Gone following suit.

Chase gave Bart an expression mixed with awe and shock. “I'm serious, Bart. You could be a samurai! You are so filled with zen right now—! I'd be all over the place! And you're just—! Standing there, doing nothing! Man, you are such a samurai…”

“Get in before I take it out on you,” Bart warned before starting the car.

The drive to the park was filled with the usual overexcited chatter of Jake and Chase, both of them recanting what each had done and heard during the course of the day. Jake had been sent to the principal's office earlier, for hitting the teen with the baseball during their encounter with Anthony. Chase had heard from Tyler that a few of the baseball team members had agreed with Anthony in trying to corner Bart into some type of beat-down. All of them spoke morosely of what had been done to Bart's car, still looking for clues as to what Bart was feeling. Bart stowed it all away, to remain impassive but inwardly slaughtering the grinning teens within his thoughts.

The park was its usual array of activity, and the teens added to the jovial chaos with their loud shouts. After inspecting the ruined paint of his car, Bart made a few phone calls to have it fixed, sulking because he'd have to drive into Portland for a more reliable paint job. The other teens commented and examined the car before Jake skated away as Chase ran after him, throwing snowballs. Gone sulked at the sight of incoming bad weather, while Bart checked over his outfit, making sure he was still as clean and fashionable as he was when he left his apartment.

As he did so, Gone looked around himself, tucking his hands deep into his jacket pockets and grumbling as he made his way from the parking lot to one of the walkways that curved through the park. He was immersed in his thoughts, wondering why Tweedy hadn't come to school today, and about Anthony's reasonings of revenge. He was fairly confident that Anthony had nothing on Bart, that the latter teen would take care of the problem without hesitation. Frankly, he wanted to see the confrontation, if only to see Anthony being humiliated by Bart's fists. Bart was good for that.

Hearing Jake and Chase laugh and shout aloud as they headed toward the amphitheater, Gone followed with a slower step. He started to call out for Jake to slow down before he broke something when a flash of color caught his eye. He recognized the orange and tan colors of Tweedy's snowboarding coat off a heavily wooded path to the side, and he stilled in mid-step.

Before he could truly think about things, he glanced back at Jake and Chase, making sure they were occupied. Bart was fussing over his jean hems, so Gone quickly hurried after the fleeting figure on the path.

Bart felt like some tired mother as he surveyed the other two, cringing as Jake hit a snowy speed bump, flipping over with a painful crack while Chase tripped over him while trying to avoid stepping on him.

He watched, certain bones had been broken, but relaxed once Jake got up, sweeping snow and slush from his jacket and pants with nothing more than laughter. Chase added to it as he picked himself up as well. Bart turned to say something to Gone about the importance of being a male when he realized that the other was making his way across the park, skirting into a wooded path, obviously in pursuit of someone. He made a face, wondering what the hell was going on when he looked back, seeing that Jake was trying to help Chase skate, the lanky teen screaming in a high-pitched cry as the `board wheeled a couple of inches.

“Argh,” he worded to himself. He glanced around them, making sure that nobody from school was waiting to ambush them, but the cars and teens he saw were non-threats. He thought about calling out to bring attention to Gone's absence, but then he thought of Saturday, how eager the pair were to jump into something that really wasn't their business. People could get hurt. Or in trouble.

But then…

“Argh,” he said again, wincing. He decided to venture in that direction, to allow himself to still be in reaching distance of the other two, while at the same time able to see Gone. This job really consumed him, he realized, frowning at the thought.

0o0o0o0

“I didn't feel like coming to school today,” Tweedy said, scrunching his forehead as Gone questioned him. He had a bag of junk food slung over one arm, having made a run to the grocery store. He had thought taking a walk would clear his head, but it was too cold to be comfortable, and thinking about everything else but the situation Gone had brought up the day before had been difficult—Tweedy was conflicted by a lot of things.

Seeing the younger teen now just jumbled everything. Tweedy hated feeling attracted and obligated to talk to him. He just wanted him to go away.

“I—it's not over yesterday?” Gone asked. “I just thought—maybe I overstepped some things, and I didn't want to…make you feel uncomfortable, I guess.”

“Well, you did!” Tweedy frowned at him, feeling flustered. Had he confessed yesterday? Or was his reaction just that obvious? He wasn't sure. “Look…I guess it's not a surprise that you are what you are. I mean, everyone talks about it.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why? What is it about me that makes them talk that why?”

Tweedy made a bewildered face. While they had been right in hindsight, he couldn't think of the main reason why the other kids had isolated him as the gay kid in the school; maybe over the way Gone dressed, the way he physically handled things. Maybe it was his attention to himself, or the way he held himself back when it came to male things. Tweedy wasn't even sure.

“Why are you asking me?” he asked in annoyance.

“That's the thing, Tweedy. These people, these kids talk about anything and everything, and, really, what makes them believable? I mean, if that's what you're thinking—”

“You already told me you were!”

“I did. Because…because I think that you are.”

“Another bullshit story!” Tweedy spit. “I'm not!”

“I just…I just thought that you'd feel more comfortable with knowing that there are…there others like you. It sucks to feel isolated and lonely.”

“Well, I'm not. I'm not like you. And your boyfriend,” Tweedy added, feeling miffed. “Whoever it is. It's probably that Chase, anyway. He's so loud about it.”

Gone merely shook his head in response.

“Look, I just want this all to, like, go away? I'm sick of Anthony being mad at me, I'm sick of all the drama that came from me just talking to you—!”

“I really appreciate that you took the time to do so,” Gone interrupted. Looking up at Tweedy's discouraged expression, he could tell that the teen was genuinely frustrated in how things had turned out. Gone felt it was important that Tweedy know how appreciative he was of his earlier actions. “I mean you just…went out of your way to…to get to know me. In a sense. And…and you didn't have to. So…so I just think that it's admirable for you to do so, and not have some hidden agenda. People like you, you can do that so easily—I'm kinda jealous that you can.”

Tweedy exhaled through his nose, feeling uncertain as to what he felt at that moment.

“So…um…I won't talk to you, unless, y'know, you talk to me first,” Gone added.

“Well, wait. I don't mean to be an ass. I just—”

“No, it's okay. I'm used to it.”

It tore at Tweedy, then, realizing that the other teen was used to the treatment by his classmates. And it bothered him in that, with his actions, he was going the same route. At the same time, he just wanted to protect himself. He was conflicted with the situation, and it caused his stomach to clench painfully. He grit his teeth, watching as Gone turned to walk away, looking small in his worn jacket. He reached out, as if he were going to physically stop him from going, but then lowered his arm to take those few steps closer.

“Well, just—! Wait. You won't talk of this to, like, anyone, will you? I mean, you don't tell your…your b-boyf…wow, it's hard to say.”

Gone knew what he meant, and shook his head slightly. “No. I don't tell him much.”

“I…I mean, I won't say anything, either. You already get so much crap, so…I dunno. Um. I'm sorry for what Anthony did yesterday. I mean, he—I didn't know he'd done that. In a twisted way, he was just watching out for me.”

“Um, it's okay, I knew you weren't involved.”

“So…uh…you…you really are…” Tweedy glanced around himself, adjusting his bag over his arm. He could hear the shouts of people at the park, of traffic just up the hill. There was no one other than they on the path, but he kept his voice lowered, leaning in to say, “You're gay. Then. Huh? That was true?”

Gone nodded once, looking at his shoes to avoid eye contact.

“How…I mean, how did you know?”

“Um, well…” Gone thought about it, unable to confess too much of it, as to embarrass his friends, “when I realized that…I'd much rather be the wife while playing House. I always wanted to…take care of…of the boy pretending to be…to be, er, the husband. That was…ages ago. It…things just fell into place from there. I couldn't make myself like girls, and was certain of it then.”

Tweedy absorbed that, then found himself breaking a small smile.

Gone gave him a worried look. “Um…you…you won't tell anybody…? You…won't think of me differently, will you?”

“No. No, I won't. I mean…you're trusting me with all this, so…so I wouldn't do that.”

“Tweedy? Are you?”

He wanted to say `yes'. But he was paranoid. Paranoid in that others could hear him, that he'd lose everything he had now for allowing his plans to slip. He thought of his college years, of that freedom he wanted to explore. He thought of all the small-minded people within the community he grew up in, and all the friends he had made throughout the years playing sports.

Gone waited for him to say, but he could see that struggle in Tweedy's green eyes. The way his clenched jaw twitched, the way his freckles seemed to stand out as his tanned skin paled slightly with just the battle of considering the answer. Just seeing such things only confirmed the answer, and he reached out to touch his arm.

“It's okay, Tweedy.”

“Don't talk about this stuff to anybody.”

“I won't. See you later.” As he turned to walk away, Tweedy reached for him, stopping him in mid-step.

“This guy…does he go to our school?”

“I'd…rather not say.”

“Do I know him?”

“I can't say.”

“Why are you protecting him? I mean, if he—if you're so happy, why—?”

“I don't want anybody mistreating him.”

Tweedy absorbed the words, frowning. “But all these people, they talk shit about you, so is that, like, all right in his eyes?”

“He hates it. But, um, well, he hasn't told me his reasons for not...”

“Why haven't you come out? To everyone?”

Gone shrugged. “I…don't really have reason to. I mean…people talk about it already, so I just…let it go as that. I don't want to be separated from him. If they knew the truth. If they knew, they wouldn't want us together.”

“You have…huge feelings for him.”

“I can comfortably say I've been in love with this boy for a very long time.”

“`In love'?” Tweedy repeated, startled to hear such words. “You don't know what love is. You're too young.”

“And you do?”

“I mean, well, no. But…how can you be in love with someone? At this age. When…when it's all about hormones and…and stuff like that? I mean, kids say that all the time, the couples at the school, but it's just…all hormones.”

“I guess when it happens to you, you'll know exactly what I mean.”

Tweedy studied him for a few moments, wondering just who this boy was, wondering what he'd done to gain such loyalty from another boy. “I wish I knew who this boy is. You're not giving me any clues.”

“What's the point in knowing?”

“I just…I dunno. I can't exactly see…see you with anybody.”

“Well…it's good that you can't. It means we're safe...” Gone trailed off, feeling almost light headed at having such a conversation with Tweedy. But the other teen was the one continuing with his questions, his observations. It almost made him smile, the way Tweedy clung to his words, seemingly unaware of how implicating he was.

At the sound of his name being bellowed, he cringed. Tweedy did as well, as if trying to hide immediately.

“I better go. Please don't think that you can't talk to me,” Gone said, moving backward down the path.

“…Okay. I guess. But…um…I guess by all this…I mean…yeah. Yeah, I am.” It was hard saying the words, Tweedy feeling his face flush, his heart rate increasing. But he felt more confident now, hearing what Gone had to say. How relaxed the other teen looked as he spoke about his status, about his boyfriend—Tweedy wanted that. “But don't tell anybody. I have—I have all this stuff, all these things—!”

“I won't. `Bye.”

Tweedy watched him go. Even though he felt letdown knowing that the other boy was with someone, he felt better letting at least one person know that he was gay. He figured he'd go home, think about things a little more, then continue life as normal.

Though he'd be watching Gone more, looking for clues as to who the boy was with. It made him insanely curious to know who it was.

0o0o0o0

“So…what was that about?” Bart asked later on that night, while Jake borrowed his laptop. The three of them were at his apartment, where Gone was flipping through the channels of his holoset and the other was surfing the Internet. Bart chewed on his protein bar, waiting for an answer. He'd changed out of his school clothes, slipping into some Tap-Out clothing. He sat on the other end of the couch and snatched the remote, changing to the evening news.

“What?” Gone asked, pulling one foot up to make sure his socks were still rolled down the way that he liked them.

“Running off earlier. And don't lie. I saw who it was you were talking to.”

Gone frowned at him, wondering how the other had known. He was pretty sure that he'd been out of sight; Chase and Jake didn't know he'd been on the trail, having seen him emerge from the trees near the amphitheater. Gone lowered his foot to the floor, saying in sing-song, “Jake, your bodyguard's jealous I was talking to someone else!”

“BART!” Jake shouted without looking away from the laptop.

Bart flung the rest of his protein bar at Gone, who had enough sense to lurch out of the way. “I'M NOT!”

“Wait, who were you talking to?” Jake asked, looking up. He was seated in the dining room, keeping the laptop averted, so no one could see what it was he was looking up. He decided to take advantage of Bart's usefulness in having a laptop without parental controls and his printer. At the moment the printer was spitting out everything he wanted to look over; Bart thought he was just downloading a new clothing magazine.

Gone reached out to poke Bart's cheek, the teen whipping away with a snarl. “No one.”

“You fuckin' liar, you tell him before I do.”

“Stop touching me!” Gone mock-complained, poking his cheek again.

“You stop touching me!”

“What are you looking up, Jake?” Gone then asked, noticing that Jake was being secretive. As he thought, the teen returned his attention to the laptop.

“You are such a manipulator,” Bart muttered, jerking away when Gone poked him again. “Will you fucking assholes quit touching me?”

“Are you in love with Holly Gellum?”

“NO!”

“Is it because she's heavier?”

“NO!”

“Is it because she's really a blond? She hella likes you, Barton. I think she'll help you out in various areas.”

“I don't want my various areas helped out.”

Gone laughed at the very words. Then he popped a finger into his mouth, wetting that before reaching out to poke into one brown ear. He watched as Bart freaked out, the teen jerking himself off the couch to move away from him. Gone ducked the punch that caused the couch to snap, the wall behind it protesting with another loud crack. The couch seemed to cave inward before catching, settling.

“GONE! Stop trying to make him kill you!” Jake boomed, printing out another page.

“I swear, I will friggin' snap you in half if you do that again!” Bart screamed at him.

Gone laughed again; sometimes he let himself be silly. It was a rare thing he did.

“DISGUSTING!” Bart snarled, stomping off to his bathroom to somehow get out the slobber that had been inserted into his ear.

“What'd you do?”

“Wet Willy,” Gone answered as he snatched the remote and changed it back to the channel he'd been watching before Bart had changed it.

“EvenI wouldn't do that!” Jake said with a laugh, clearing his history, and then checking to make sure he had everything he printed out. He closed the laptop, gathering up all his material. “So, what's he talking about?”

“I saw God. He was old.”

“G. You liar.”

“He was more brown than white. Maybe he really is from the Middle East, and not the north end of Utah like everyone thought.”

“G, you friggin' liar. Look what I got,” Jake then said, sitting down on the couch and finding himself rolling inward once it started to sink. He caught himself, papers fluttering over Gone's lap. The younger teen gathered them, tapping them at the bottom to keep them in order. He leaned over to kiss Jake, pulling away before the other could do anything. He then glanced over the papers. His face, neck and ears turned bright red. “Yeah. See? This is what I wanna do. Someday.”

“Oh…oh my…you…these pictures…” Gone couldn't complete his words, taking in the pictures of gay sex with near horror. He thrust them aside, blushing beet red.

“They are my textbook for sex. You and I, we're gonna do it. Like this. Or…this looks fun.” Jake studied one of the pictures, feeling excited at it.

“I feel so weird looking at stuff like that!”

“Or maybe like this. You can do that, can't you?”

“Don't—! Oh my God. I can't—no!”

“Let's go to your house. Try this…Mitch and Tom won't bother us. Dad's going to be home all night. Oh man, this picture right here…look how far in there he's got his—”

“Don't say it out loud!” Gone cried in embarrassment, ripping the papers from him and wadding them up. He then thrust them into Jake's backpack before the other could take them back. By the time Bart came back, the pair of them were shifting uncomfortably on the couch, the visuals on the paper affecting them physically. Mortified with their reactions, Gone hoped that Bart was unaware of their excited shouts and words while he was cleaning out his ear.

“I hate when you guys look like that. Like you were talkin' about me behind my back,” Bart complained.

“We were.”

“Hey, we're going to head home. We can walk,” Jake said hurriedly, but took his time getting up from the broken couch.

Bart winced at the thought of the cold outside. “I'll take you back. Or I'll call your dad.”

“No, let's walk.”

“It's snowing!” Gone complained, sure that his body was under control as he slowly stood. “I'm not walking.”

“J, ask him why he went to talk to Tweedy,” Bart then asked snidely, snatching his keys.

“How'd you talk to Tweedy?” Jake asked Gone in surprise.

Gone sighed, taking his hand in his. “I saw him there. I went and spoke to him. It wasn't anything.”

“Why'd you talk to him? You said you wouldn't,” Jake snapped at him, snatching his hand back.

“It wasn't a big deal. I'm not going to make a big deal over it. I'll talk to you about it later.”

“You are so—! Everything is always some secret with you!”

“Don't fight with me!”

“PLEASE,” Bart muttered in response, not wanting to be around the bickering couple. He strode outside, cringing at the blistering cold, lifting an arm to cover and protect his face.

Gone held onto Jake, wrapping his arms around his neck and hanging from him, nearly dragging the pair of them down onto the floor. “Please don't fight with me. Please just trust me.”

“No. You're having, like, an affair with him. After you said you wouldn't talk to him anymore.”

“I'm not! How dumb!”

“Get off me! What are you, some monkey?” Jake then snapped, walking awkwardly, bending down with the weight of Gone's pull. He had to catch himself as Gone pulled his legs up, wrapping them around his waist.

He leaned in to say, “I'll do some of that stuff in the pictures if you'll just drop it.”

Shuttered between wanting to know why he was talking to Tweedy and the possibilities that might arise at the promise, Jake found himself in a quarry. It didn't help as Gone kissed his neck, his lips soft and warm against his skin.

“Please J, please? Just drop it?”

“C'mon, you fuckers!” Bart bellowed from outside. “It's fucking cold out here!”

“Fine. Fine. You're so—fucking…like, evil,” Jake grumbled, wincing at his body's reaction to Gone's manipulation. The younger teen finally let go of him, but not without kissing him sloppily, giggling as he did so. Jake pushed him away, reaching down to adjust himself while Gone hurriedly grabbed their jackets and his backpack.

As they clamored down the stairway to the parking lot, Bart turned to make sure there were no threats in the shadows, and to make sure they weren't doing anything weird behind his back. He heard the sound of a car driving through the complex, and looked over to make sure that it wasn't any sort of danger to his charge. Instead, he saw the close-up of headlights before impact with the car caused it to stop short, a loud smash of sound snapping through the cold air.

Undamaged, but definitely pissed at having a car hit him, Bart pushed the broken vehicle away from him, hearing Jake's and Gone's startled shouts. The engine ground and squealed as the panicked driver behind the wheel tried to get the vehicle to move. Bart rounded the car's front and jerked the driver's side door open, yanking out the driver with an irritated curse.

Recognizing one of the jocks from their school, he growled, giving the boy a shake. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

“Holy shit,” he stammered as Bart dropped him, Jake and Gone hurrying to his side. People began to look out their windows, calling for help. “Holy shit. Holy shit, I just hit you. I just—he said you were a Super. He said that—holy shit. I thought you'd just move, but you let it hit you.”

“It takes more than that to knock me down,” Bart muttered. “You weren't even going fast, you dumb dick. You wanna ram that shit into me, you gotta go faster than that. You fucking loser.”

“You actually tried to hit him?” Jake asked of the teen, astounded that someone from his school would actually go through such measures just to try and hurt Bart. “Oh my God, you're so fucking dumb.”

“Man, it was an accident!” the boy said, rising. As lights flooded the area, due to people turning on their front and back porch lights to gape at the scene, the teen started to change his story. “It was just a fucking accident! I was just driving around, looking for a parking spot! I didn't even see you!”

“Liar!” Jake spat at him. “You overrode your car's controls just to try an' run him over!”

“I have manual—I have a faulty system!”

“You kids okay over there?” a man called out, venturing over. A couple of people came over to investigate, sirens audible in the distance. “Everyone okay? What's going on? What happened?”

“I didn't even see this guy! I didn't! My system's faulty! I didn't even see him! I didn't know he was there! My car's system has been faulty, and I—I hadn't fixed it, yet, but I didn't know!” the teen continued shouting, pointing at Bart in accusation. He was shaking from head to toe, clearly distressed in what he'd done. His car was in ruins—the hood was smashed back, displaying the insides; smoke was now lifting up, coloring the air.

Gone watched as more people gathered to gawk, murmuring over what they had heard. He then looked at Bart, calmly arguing with the teen while Jake shook. He knew what he had seen; the teen had clearly intended to hit him. He felt uncomfortable with the knowledge that someone their age had tried to intentionally hurt another of this degree. Even if it were Bart; Bart clearly wasn't hurt, but the very fact that he could have been…if he hadn't been Super…

Now that it became apparent that Bart was a Superhuman, his neighbors started to gape at him. Most were asking where his parents were, to which he had to reply that they were out of town. Seeing that they weren't going to leave the scene for awhile, Gone decided to head back to the apartment, to call Mr. James and let him know what happened.

0o0o0o0

At school the next day, their peers turned to look at Bart with both awe and horror. Uncomfortable with the attention, Bart hunched his shoulders, feeling Jake and Chase crowd his sides, as if they were to stop any threat coming to him. Holly flew at him, causing him to stumble back to avoid hurting her in any way, his hands coming up to keep her from touching him. Instead he found it awkward, seeing that he nearly touched her chest. It seemed to heave like a living animal against his stomach, something that made his innards squeeze upon themselves in horror.

“I heard what Marcus tried to do!” she cried. “How awful!”

“Get off me. Don't touch me—!”

“You almost died, I heard!”

“I didn't almost die!”

“Holly, the man is traumatized,” Chase said, drawing her back. “Being touched reminds him of how the car hit him.”

Bart sputtered.

“Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry!” Holly gasped, pulling her hands back. Once Bart realized that it was said to keep him from being touched, he had to give Chase an approving nod. “I just—! When I heard of what happened, I was so scared. I thought—I mean, I know you're a Superhuman and all, but—!”

“It's all good, Holly Gellum,” Chase said, “Bart's awesome like that. He's gonna be okay. That car did not hurt him—he hurt it.”

“But still—! Marcus did it deliberately! He had no business being there! I heard he was arrested!”

“He was,” Jake said with a wince. Seeing a classmate being led away in handcuffs, the entire incident caught on security cameras that were posted throughout the complex, made him feel oddly.

“I can't believe they'd go so far as to do that!” Holly continued, her bright nails pressed against her lips as she continued to look at Bart in horror. Her brightly made eyes looked to tear, Bart reacting with a startled jerk away from her.

“He's fine. Let him go to class, now,” Jake said, pushing the teen through the staring throng of their peers, Holly moving aside to let them pass. “Geez. This is one way to get attention. Having someone trying to kill you.”

“He wasn't even,” Bart mumbled, pulling away. “Hell. All it did was smudge my jeans. I'm more pissed that he even tried, than the actual action.”

“Man, it looked so cool! But scary, too. Because what if you weren't Super?” Jake asked, Chase crowding Bart on his other side.

“Well, I am. And the fact that I am was what made him do it.”

“Stop gawking at him! He isn't a piece of meat!” Chase admonished a group of popular girls, all of whom were eying Bart in a new light. He performed a double take, then grinned cheekily. “Well, wait. Britney, Kelly, Leslie, Jennifer—he is single. He is on the market.”

“Chase—!” Jake exclaimed, shocked and delighted that they actually had the girls' attention for once.

“I'm not interested!” Bart snapped, stalking away.

“If you'll give me your numbers, I'll give them to him,” Chase said, grinning widely as the girls glanced at each other, each silently daring the other to do it.

Gone rolled his eyes and followed after Jake and Bart. “I haven't seen any of those guys since we came in,” he reported, catching up to the pair as they made their way to their lockers.

“That's right,” Jake realized, looking around them.

“Who. Cares? Shit.” Annoyed at all the attention he was getting, Bart dialed the combination needed to open his locker.

“I bet this sorta thing was so the usual down in NP,” Jake said. “Like, so casual, no one looked twice.”

“Yeah. It was like that.”

“I wish I could go down there.”

“I wish people would stop touching me.”

Gone leaned against the locker beside him, picking at a hangnail. “This could be your big chance. Show everyone just what sort of winner you really are.”

“I don't need to prove what's already known. Get away from my proximity.” Bart reached out and pushed him away, forcing Gone to catch himself before he slammed into another student.

Jake rolled his eyes. “I wanna see what Anthony has to say. Or think. One of his friends was tossed into county for doing what he did. All this shit, caused by, what? It's so stupid. So ridiculous.”

“So you finally see it?” Bart asked him incredulously, shutting his locker. Dressed in a camo shirt, in baggy white jeans and olive green Nike sneakers, his combination was already being studied by a few freshmen boys that were actively trying to steal his style. His black hair was pulled back into a tiny ponytail, messy layers tucked behind his ears. “You finally see the shit I've been trying to tell you all this time?”

Jake grumbled, but Gone found himself smiling at the other, startled into a grateful state by his words. Bart reached out and pushed his head. Chase raced up to them, trying to catch his breath.

“Leslie said she'd talk to you in class,” he reported. “She thinks you look fine today.”

“Sick,” Bart said low in disgust, shooting a glare in the girl's direction.

“Hells yes!” Chase agreed.

“I meant GROSS.”

“BART!”

“Only because I'm not interested,” Bart corrected himself on a sigh, feeling his head pound. He searched for his Tylenol.

“Is it because Anthony fucked her first? Your first arch-nemesis!” Chase crowed.

“Like I give a rat's ass, an', no. I'm not interested in general. I'm not. I don't want anybody!” Bart exclaimed, tired of having to repeat himself.

“You are such a liar. You're a liar. But, I guess, if you are gay, at least you can hook up with guys away from town,” Chase said on a heavy sigh. “Y'know, out of my knowledge. Sight. Hearing. That sorta thing…”

“I'm not gay!”

Jake chuckled at that, reaching out to grab Gone's arm. The other had on a pair of worn pants that kept distracting him; a thankful one at that. Leaning down to whisper, he said, “I like your ass.”

“Don't look!” Gone said with a blush.

“No one's paying attention, anyway. Here. Grab mine.”

“NO!”

“Hey! No whispering secrets!” Chase admonished, whipping around to glare at them for not paying attention to Bart. Trailing after the older boy, he said, “It's all about Bart today, boys. As of right now, he's sorta a celebrity. You both need to take advantage of it. Once he gets the main chick, J, you can pull a sneak attack. But I get Jennifer. G…well…I think maybe you can try one of the freshmen. One of the ones that don't mind being with…well…a shortie.”

“I'm not getting no one!” Bart growled, annoyed. Chase started to argue with him, drawing his attention away.

“But I like Jennifer, too,” Jake grumbled, then laughed as Gone pinched his arm, and he jerked it away. He then reached out to grab him by his jacket, forcing him to lean in to say, “Just kidding. I'll see you after class, `k? Don't be talking to that guy. He'll put a hit out on you.”

“Stop.”

“I'm serious. His friend's psycho. Lookit what he tried to do to Barton, here.”

“Stop.” With that, Gone frowned at him and headed for his class, Jake looking after him with an approving grin. Chase pounced at him, looking in the same direction and completely misreading his line of vision.

“Yeah, that's Nicola. She has this ass that never ends—she's wearing those pants today. Man, I like those pants. Wait. Wait, let's see what the hero has to say about them. Hey! Hero!”

Chase ducked the textbook that Bart flung at him, letting go of Jake. “Check ya laters, playas! Don't hook up with anybody without my help! I totally get a cut of anything you guys do!”

With a roll of his eyes, Jake hurriedly picked up Bart's book and rushed into the classroom before the tardy bell rang, the instructor calling out a warning that he immediately protested.