Static Shock Fan Fiction ❯ If It Makes You Happy ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
The emergence of the Gold Bitch Theory
Non Anime: Static Shock Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.19.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 5.7K | Visits: 958 | Status: Completed
The emergence of the Gold Bitch Theory
Non Anime: Static Shock Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.19.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 5.7K | Visits: 958 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock and associated characters. Just manipulating them against their will.
Warnings: SLASH, violence, swear words galore, and...uh..we’ll see what else later on.
OooooooooooO means scene break
If It Makes You Happy:
Chapter Three
“What?” Static cried in confusion, swooping low to the rooftop. Gear was already there waiting for him, a visible grin on his lips as the teen hovered nearby, energy crackling. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“I kid you not, my friend. They’re shutting down Dakota’s only cockroach joint because Ebon and his gang shot it up last night.”
“Noooooo!” Static howled, hands on his face. “That’s where I got the best nachoes in Dakota! This is seriously wrong! Let’s find the bitch!”
Gear laughed, hands on his hips as Static’s face shifted to something determined and venomous. “They were going to shut it down, anyway, man. Even if Ebon hadn’t gotten there first, the city would have.”
“Aw, man, you’re just all sore cuz of a little upset stomach the last time you ate there. I ain’t listenin’ to no haters,” Static sniffed, turning his head to survey the streets below them.
“‘A little upset stomach’?” Gear shouted, barely keeping himself from screeching. “I’ll have you know that I made friends with the commode for over a week! A WEEK! We’re practically brothers, now!”
“I still say ya’ll are sissy an’ couldn’t handle a little sauce,” Static sniffed.
“Oh, I can handle. I just can’t handle when my intestines are being eaten by acid!”
“Hater.” Static chuckled, and the pair of them grinned at each other. “Other than that, what else been going down?”
“Ebon’s gang and the Five Alarm Crew...all night. Something’s stirred up their nests,” Gear reported, watching the flash of data that scrolled down the inside of his visor. “Aside from the battle down on Tenth, they’ve been hitting up on each other throughout various areas of the city. No real connections–it looks like they’re just batting at whomever drops on by.”
“What the hell’s up their asses, now?” Static sighed, dropping his hold on his disc, landing neatly beside his partner. “Who insulted whose bitch?”
Gear chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know, but this ‘bitch’ better be worth all the effort.”
“Bitch better be made of Gold! GOLD!”
The two laughed briefly, then resumed scanning over the streets below them. It was a cool early morning, the sun just a couple hours away from rising. Both of them managed to rustle themselves out of sleep to come out to patrol. As it was, Dakota was pretty quiet for the now.
Gear shifted from one foot to the other, glancing over at his partner. “In that way of things...do you think this is why Hotstreak’s hiding out at the high school? Ebon doesn’t really bother the place...”
“More than likely,” Static said with a thoughtful frown, rubbing his exposed chin. “Ebon won’t touch the place, an’ Hot Head knows it. Probably just goes to feel safe. Though, it is pretty cowardly of him to be doin’ that.”
“Even if Ebon doesn’t want to touch it, he might get antsy enough to drop by, one day. And with all these drive-bys, I’m a little scared they’re going to go all out on campus. We need to be ready for that, V,” Gear said with a worried frown.
Static nodded with a solemn air. “Ah, man, definitely. Though it would fuckin’ suck if Ebon lowered himself to do that. We should just stay on alert, just in case.”
“Think we should go directly to the source, an’ find out what’s going down with the pair of them? I mean, encounter them directly?” Gear asked him, reaching back to pull one of his feet up, lightly stretching his right hamstring. “They might give a little if we do that.”
“Sounds like a plan, m’man!”
“V...stop.”
“Right. 221;
The pair of them left the rooftop, and headed directly east, heading toward Ebon’s regular hidey-hole near the lake. Upon reaching the area, though, Gear reacted with a startled exclamation, pulling back as Backpack let loose with a warning. Static moved at the same instant, just barely avoiding the thrown oil barrel. Looking down below them was a grinning Tarmack. The bang baby, formed entirely out of melted oil, sludge, and whatever else the unfortunate soul managed to absorb during the night of the Big Bang, was nearly hidden in the shadows below them.
The pair looked at each other, and immediately lost altitude to confront the bang baby. Static pulled ahead, throwing an energy blast at the changed man, and watched with dismay as the man merged with the street, sinking out of view.
“Left! I got left!” Gear shouted behind him, whirling in mid-air to hurl a Zap Cap at an incoming foe. Static turned sharply in time to see Shiv being bound by various metal arms, his face wrinkling with a startled expression. He hit the pavement hard in his bound state. His arms, which had formed twin glowing swords, shifted abruptly back to normal human appendages.
Static saw movement just behind his partner, and flung a blast in Gear’s direction. Gear knew when to move, and ducked quickly, startling his would-be attacker.
Talon shrieked as she was struck, her feathers ruffling as she lost height. Gear maneuvered around, withdrawing a cap from his belt and preparing to throw. Backpack uttered another warning, and he turned quickly to see Kangor leaping at him, one boot extended.
“Ouch,” he uttered before the large boot made contact with his chest. He was knocked completely out of the air, slamming back first into a nearby dumpster with a resounding bang. Static was already in Kangor’s face, knocking the large footed man back into the shadows he’d come from, avenging snarl leaving his lips.
Shaking his head, a little disoriented from the painful impacts, Gear rose from the pavement, stepping over Shiv to see where Talon had gone. Static had Kangor handled, using his power to zap the Jamaican into submission.
The bird woman emerged from the rooftop of one of the nearby buildings, her mouth opening wide to emit a scream when Gear pulled his arm back, and flung his weapon at the woman. She uttered a surprised squawk as metal bands wrapped around her torso, her dead weight dropping her from the sky. The fall was a long one–Static moved away from Kangor to catch her in mid-fall, and deposited her next to the bound Shiv.
“You ain’t got anything on us!” Shiv shrieked, kicking his feet out. “You all attacked us, first! We ain’t done shit!”
“Shut up!” Talon screeched at him. “Shut your stupid mouth, Shiv!”
“Well, well, well,” Static chuckled, alighting from his disc. “Let’s not fight, kids. We’ve got a long night ahead of us. Ya’ll got some questions we needs answered. Any volunteers?”
“Fuck you!” Shiv squeaked, receiving a foot to his face for his trouble.
Talon directed a heated glare at the boys as she twisted onto her back. “We ain’t got nothing to say,” the Latina declared, her accented voice tinged with hate. “You all rolled up on us. We were surprised.”
“I’m sure our arrival wasn’t that much of a surprise,” Gear said in an incredulous tone. “You can hear Static talking halfway across the city.”
“Har, har, Jim Carrey,” Static said dryly, giving his partner an exasperated look. “Other than the fact that my partner thinks he’s funny, what’s all this commotion about, over here? Where’s your daddy?”
Talon opened her mouth to give a snappish retort, but the sound of breaking glass caught their attention. Tarmac emerged once more from the pavement, lifting a rusted, rundown Buick over his head. Static and Gear looked at him in surprise, then both separated to avoid being crushed by the flying vehicle. Static turned and caught the rusted thing before it could crush both Talon and Shiv, both of the metahumans cringing.
Gear wound up for another attack, eyeing Tarmac’s position as he pulled his arm back. Before he could do anything, though, Tarmac suddenly relaxed, looking beyond him. He turned, looking behind him to see Ebon’s long, shadowy form emerging from the building behind him. Quickly, needing the guy in sight, Gear switched position, with Static coming up close to cover his back.
“What’s all this commotion?” Ebon demanded, resuming humanoid form as he alighted on the pavement, glaring up at the two heroes. “Whatchu doing, messing with my friends, here?”
“Oh, so they’re your friends, now?” Static asked, his tone incredulous as Gear chuckled. “Just the other day, you were referring to them as your brainless slaves...”
“What?” Talon shrieked. “You be saying shit, Ebon?”
“Shut your shrieking, Theresa,” Ebon ordered with an annoyed tone. “I ain’t sayin’ shit. Least ways, it ain’t that way, girl. He just be runnin’ his mouth, like he always does. S’what he’s good at.”
“Are you saying you know? Well, Ebon! I had no idea we were so close!” Static exclaimed, looking amazed.
Ebon lost his cool, jabbing a finger up in his direction. “I don’t want no shit coming from you, boy! What the fuck are you two doin’ here?”
“We heard there was a yard sale ‘round these parts. Been lookin’ for some bachelor furniture. Ain’t one of you guys seen a three legged table here?”
“I really tire of that mouth of yours, Static. That’s all you fucking do. Meanwhile, you’re wasting my time. Seein’ as my crew hadn’t done anything to the two of you, why don’t you let them go? They ain’t done shit.”
Gear exchanged a look with Static, who shrugged. Touching onto the pavement, Gear took his time in releasing the two that lay on the pavement, both of them hissing in annoyance as they were freed from the tightened bonds.
Ebon set his hands on his hips, nodding at his metabreed followers, and Static watched with some careful consideration as the four disappeared within the shadows around them. Satisfied that he was alone with the pair of superheros, Ebon looked at them both once more.
“Well! I’m here! What the hell do you want?”
“How do you know we’re lookin’ for you?” Static questioned, touching down on the pavement, and holding his disk in front of him. “Maybe we’re just scouting this area out for something fun to do.”
“Like yourselves?”
“Ever the comedian!” Static declared. “You’ve no idea how many times a night we get that, eh, Gear?’
His partner chuckled weakly, then cleared his throat. “Constantly. I think they know something we don’t. Should we be afraid?”
“Cut the crap! Get this shit over with!” Ebon ordered, his eyes narrowing with exasperation. “Betcha all are wonderin’ about this thang with me an’ Francis.”
“What is going on between you two?” Gear asked, frowning at him.
“I don’t know shit. Just some rumors here and there. Ain’t nothin’ of importance,” Ebon answered coolly, looking as if he knew nothing of what they were asking.
“So you’re sayin’ you don’t know why you two are busting caps at each other, an’ wrecking each other’s rides?” Static asked incredulously.
Ebon crossed his arms over his chest, and gave a stubborn sniff. “Don’t know shit. Probably ain’t even my crew. Has anybody seen me out in that shit?”
“Well, er...not really.”
“Then what the fuck? Why ya’ll being all racist an’ automatically pointing at me?”
“‘Racist’?” Static cried incredulously. “We’re the same race, Ebon! There’s no issue of race in this business!”
“Always fingerin’ the black man, always tryin’ to bring him down. Always pointin’ at me. How do ya’ll know it ain’t Hotstreak that’s causin’ shit? Just cuz he’s the right color, an’ all...”
“We’re not going to get anywhere with him, Static,” Gear said on an exasperated sigh, sore shoulders slumping.
Static recharged his disk, alighting into the air as he frowned at Ebon. “Even if no one seen you around these things, we know it’s all you involved. Your guys may as be wearing big ole bright ‘E’s on their clothes to broadcast their affiliation.”
“I ain’t guilty of nothin’, you little shit. Get your baby asses out of my area. You ain’t got shit on me,” Ebon cursed, crossing his arms once more, and eyeing them with contempt.
Static sighed tiredly, shaking his head as he glanced at his partner. “Welp. You heard the guy. Let’s head on out of here.”
Gear shrugged and joined him in the air, the two leaving amidst the cackle of energy and boosters. Ebon watched them leave, shaking his head in disgust. From the shadows, Kangor emerged, looking more than miffed as he approached his boss.
“Man, we got the tag on Stone,” the large footed Jamaican reported, narrowing his eyes. “He be seen wandering around Twentieth and shit earlier on...he ain’t anywhere, now.”
“Any clues on the kid he pulled?” Ebon questioned, glancing around curiously as he and Kangor made their way to a closed door nearby.
“Yeah. Just some high school brat he be goin’ to school with. Ain’t no one of any importance. Already checked out his family. Father works for that insurance agency down on Main, and mamma’s one of those bitches that stay at home. Ain’t nothin’ interestin’.”
“Hotstreak ain’t savin’ no kid that ain’t worth nothin’,” Ebon said in disgust, giving the man a dark look. “There be something important about that kid, an’ I wanna know why.”
“Why you gotta be that way, man? Who cares? Probably just some brat he be thinkin’ joinin’ his crew!” Kangor replied in a similar manner, hands splayed. “You all obvious, man.”
“‘Obvious’ ‘bout what, Kangor?” Ebon hissed, rearing on him, his form shifting slightly to loom over the guy.
Nervously, Kangor cringed, hands up in a placating gesture. “I was just sayin’. We all know you like them white folk.”
Ebon whacked him across the head. “You’re pathetic. I ain’t none of that. I’m just fuckin’ curious. Could be something to use against that hot-head in the future. You been out of jail long, Kangor? Only something like that could make you say what you say.”
“Nah, I ain’t nothin’,” Kangor muttered, head lowering. “Just sayin’.”
Ebon snorted, glancing at the other members of his crew as they watched the pair silently. The darkened room of the abandoned clothing sweatshop was covered in dust and broken machines, the floor littered with various thread spools, trash, and the occasional material roll.
“Ya’ll got somethin’ ya want to say?” he demanded. “What they be doin’ out here? What made them come out here?”
“Man, stop your bitching,” Talon muttered, flipping the end of her ponytail from her face. Her humanoid face, covered with tiny light orange feathers ruffled with her irritation as she examined her nails. From her arms, the long flight feathers she used to fly with ruffled with her mood as well. Ebon eyed her with annoyance as her tone grated on his ears. “They came out this way, and we didn’t get a chance to find out why. They surprised us.”
“So you guys got all guilty an’ called them out?”
“We didn’t do anything, Ebon!” Shiv exclaimed. The Asian was excitable, as usual, his shirt flapping as he jumped down from a table to confront the shadow man with his exclamations. “We was just minding our own business! Then they’re all throwing stuff at us, and wrecking us around–!”
“It’s all obvious it’s all you causing trouble, Ebon!” Talon snorted, awkwardly crossing her arms as she glared at the shadowman. “Everyone knows you ain’t gettin’ along with Hotstreak and his crew. Anyone would think that!”
“Yeah, well...that ain’t my business. I just want none of ya’ll giving shit away,” Ebon decided, frowning at them all. “Saying as such, seein’ as we backed the fucker into a corner, we got us a little leverage over his group. He ain’t got peoples the way I got peoples. And I got ya’ll. I want ya’ll to be backin’ me up at nights. But stay out of sight.”
“Aw, man! I don’t want no part of that!” Talon cried. “Hotstreak and his crew are just refusing to acknowledge what’s your territory! We shouldn’t be part of that bullshit! He don’t come this way!”
“You defending him, Theresa?” Ebon asked curiously, his shadowy form moving swiftly to come up before her. She startled at his sudden closeness, drawing her head back as he loomed over her. “What’s this business, man?”
“I’m just saying!” she insisted, slipping off her table, and sliding around him to give herself some space. “He hasn’t done shit to you. You just got all up on his face that one day, cuz he didn’t listen to what you wanted to say.”
“I had some plans, man, an’ he just started mouthing off, like he normally does,” Ebon complained, hands out to the side.
“Then you hadda go and bust shit up by stirring up all this business!” Talon snorted, shaking her head. “It’s all on you, Ebon, and your regular crew. Leave us out of this one. We ain’t doing no fighting against stupid shit like this.”
“You back talking me, Theresa? You sure you wanna go that route?” Ebon threatened, looming over her once more.
“You ain’t scary shit, Ebon,” Talon said quietly, glaring at him. “We follow you an’ all, but I just don’t think we should get involved with this shit you got going on with Francis...”
“‘Francis, Francis, Francis’,” Ebon said on a sneer, mimicking her tone. “You got somethin’ goin on with that cracker, girl?”
“Fuck you, Ebon!”
“I don’t do animals, girl.”
Before Talon could strike at him, Kangor interrupted, placing himself between them. He was listening to a handheld police scanner with a serious expression. “Listen to this, man,” he ordered. “The police are putting out an APB on you, Ebon. Seems we gotta witness that confessed the shit goin’ down on Tenth.”
“What?” Ebon cried angrily, rearing on him. “I made sure to stay out of sight!”
Talon rolled her eyes. Why did Ebon think he was going to get away with something like that, when it was obvious his crew were the culprits?
Ebon suddenly whirled, growling fiercely as he balled his fists. “That little shit talked!”
“What? Who?”
“Francis’ little bitch! That’s it! I’m sick of this shit! Kangor, get my crew on the line. I need to talk to the man in charge of things.”
“Er...right, boss.” Kangor hurried off to do as his boss said, and Talon rolled her eyes once more.
Ebon turned to her, jabbing his finger just below her collarbone. She hissed, slapping his hand away from her as he growled, “And we’ll continue this later, Theresa. Don’t you be runnin’ far.”
“Like I’m scared of you, Ebon. An’ I ain’t going nowhere.”
Ebon snorted, and turned away from her. It was very early morning, but that didn’t mean anything when it concerned his business.
OooooooooooO
Richie sighed as he rubbed his eyes. His lack of glasses, his eyes straining to see, was giving him a headache. One that couldn’t be chased away with Coke or aspirin. Virgil was busy yammering a mile a minute, looking entirely as if he’d gotten more than eight hours of sleep, and Richie himself was sprawled almost bonelessly on the bench nearby. Virgil was playing a free-for-all basketball game with a couple of other boys, Daisy cheering him on from nearby.
It was lunchtime, and while Richie had caught a nap in first period, it wasn’t enough to keep his attention focused on things. Besides that, he felt sore all over. His father had been furious about something or another last night; adding to that the impact, Kangor’s kick had left more than one spot colored and muscles tender. It hurt just to sit. Of course, he really wasn’t going to complain about his family situation–he didn’t want people to look at him oddly, the way they did whenever they learned someone was having ‘problems’ at home.
Anyway, it wasn’t as if the situation were a new one–out here, where he was a minority, the school composed mainly of blacks and Hispanics, everyone had a sob story to confess. It wasn’t anything new. He especially didn’t want Virgil to worry, anyway. The guy knew his father was a racist–why add to the fact that he was also an abuser? He didn’t want that concern and pity, so he kept quiet about it. Besides, he always had explanations for the marks, in the excuse of patrolling.
He watched, squinting as Virgil dribbled maniacally around Felix and Ducky, shouting some commentary out loud as he did so. When he lost the ball, Wade picking up the sphere with a loud shout and a shot, Virgil moaned his lack of skill by limping over to Daisy for some comfort.
Richie snorted, shaking his head as he pillowed his arms before him. Virgil’s obvious like for Daisy grated on his nerves. He was jealous, all right, but couldn’t he be? He was in love with his best friend, and the guy liked someone else. A girl, at that. The story of his life, actually. He was always fated to be a step behind happiness, what with his home-life, and all. And for the fact that he felt he didn’t have cool superpowers like V. Sure, having a genius brain was nice, but was it able to fire lasers, or create shields, or blast bombs–?
It sure didn’t keep him from getting bruises from both his father and Kangor, last night.
He sighed again, this time in misery, and closed his eyes. May as well as catch up on some rest. He had almost faded away into dreamworld, where a half naked Virgil was awaiting him with nachoes and cola when he felt a hand on his back. He blinked one eye open, squinting up to see a couple of black teens standing over him, both dressed in expensive Adidas wear and gold. A lot of gold.
“Hey, we wanna talk to you,” one said, this one wearing sleek Ray-Bans and sporting four gold teeth.
“Let’s go someplace private.”
Richie didn’t move. “You guys weren’t released from prison recently, by any chance, were you?”
“Wha–? Shit, white boy! Shut your trap! Ain’t none of us came from fuckin’ prison!”
“Just checking. What’s this all about, anyway?” Richie asked, rising from the bench.
Virgil was too busy trying to snatch Daisy’s glasses from her, and wasn’t paying him any attention. Wade and Felix were too busy playing each other, and no one was noticing him being kidnaped by a pair of G-Unit shoes wearing thugs! Who knew where they were taking him? And for what business?
“Oh, just a few words we gotta have wit’ ya. Nothin’ much,” the other boy said, clapping his hand down onto his shoulder.
“Can’t we talk here? I mean..the bell’s going to ring, soon,” Richie said lamely, being forced away from the court and out toward the side of the school. He started to panic, knowing this place was infamous for jumps and random beatings, and wondered what he did lately to piss someone off.
“Just a few words, kid. Don’t even worry none what it’s about,” the first one said, walking ahead.
Richie shrugged and walked along with them, hands in his pockets. He was aware that his heart was beating a million miles an hour, and he was actually a little scared as to what the two wanted. When they emerged from the danger zone and approached a Navigator that looked suspiciously like the one that tried to run him over yesterday, he paused.
The hand on his shoulder tightened, and he knew he was in trouble if he stayed. The door to the back of the vehicle opened, and he took this chance to whirl away from the two teens, his hoodie being caught by the one he stood closest to. Quickly, he slithered his way out from the hoodie and ran off, ignoring the pained shouts behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he winced at the curses and shouts that followed him, but felt relieved that he wasn’t in that situation anymore.
He sighed as he walked back to his bench, rubbing his arms. That had been his favorite hoodie, too. Damn bastards. They could have at least traded their teeth for cash to get their own, he thought crossly as he sat back down on the bench.
He noticed that neither of his friends had noticed he’d been gone. Leaning his elbows upon his knees, he watched their game and tried to ignore Virgil flirting outright with Daisy.
“Where’s your sweater?” Virgil then asked during sixth, and Richie had to roll his eyes. He just now noticed? Virgil was too dense, sometimes, even for someone as brilliant as he.
“I let someone borrow it for awhile,” Richie answered, shrugging. Honestly, he felt naked without it. He was wearing a tee that was a couple of sizes bigger than he should, but the comfort the hoodie provided him left him feeling vulnerable.
“Who’s the lucky girl?”
“Girl?”
“That you let borrow it! You don’t let anyone wear it!”
“It’s because it was mine! And it wasn’t a question of me letting them borrow it–more rather, it was a... unasked borrowing situation.”
Virgil gave him a blank look. “What?”
Richie sighed. “Never mind. Hey, about yesterday...I need to talk to you about yesterday. I think I have a problem with someone.”
“Again? What’s it this time?”
“It–” Richie shut his mouth as he saw Hotstreak leaning against the wall, near the water fountain, glaring at him fiercely. He swallowed, clearing his throat as the older male watched them pass, without his cap and hoodie today. The intimidating menace was dressed in a faded red tee sloppily tucked into a pair of baggy pants that were defying gravity and a belt with his first initial on it. He looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed, red and yellow hair sloppily mussed, and eyes narrowed with irritation.
“Whoa! He’s back!” Virgil exclaimed. “This is the third day he came to school! What’s up, man? Gettin’ those grades on?”
“Fuck you, Hawkins!” Hotstreak snarled, straightening away from the wall and walking off.
Virgil cupped his hands around his mouth. “I’m proud of you, man! You just walked away! Proud of you!”
“You’re gonna piss him off, V,” Richie sighed, reaching back to rub the back of his neck. “Then I’ll have to take the fall for you, again. I seriously don’t want none of that, man.”
“Yeah, you’re right. C’mon, my fey friend! Off to class we go! Follow the road, the wonderful road of the hall!”
“V, seriously, you’re giving me a headache. What’s got you excited?” Richie asked him curiously, wincing at Virgil’s off-key tune.
“I got me a date! Yes, yes, yes, I know–one of many, but this is special.”
“‘One of many’? Shit, V. Like you go out. How many’s going this time?”
“Well, I was kinda thinkin’ a small group of friends–you, of course, Felix, Wade, Daisy, Freida–if she could pry her fine self away from the journalism thing–and a coupla other favorites. But this one is special. It’s just me and Daisy in the theater.”
“Oh, really? Where are the rest of us?”
“Sitting far on the other side of the theater–preferably in another movie.”
Richie shook his head. “You’re pathetic, V. If you’re on a date with someone, you gotta leave the friends home.”
“I can’t do that, Rich. It’s safer to go in groups. ‘Sides...uh...Daisy don’t know that it’s a date. And that you guys won’t be in the same theater.”
Richie rolled his eyes as they entered their classroom, taking their usual seat near the window. “Whatever, Virgil.”
“What’s that tone, for?’
“What tone?”
“You had a tone...”
“I didn’t have a tone!”
“There was a tone, there, Foley. The one that let me know just how jealous you are of me. You’re probably thinkin’...Man, that Virgil Hawkins. What a stud. If only I could have his game,” Virgil said, sweeping a hand through his dreads.
Richie sprawled out into his chair, wincing with the utter pain he felt as Virgil continued to stroke his own ego. “You and your dreams, V. Keep ‘em to yourself. Other people might get jealous...”
“Like you?”
“Like Felix,” Richie corrected, gesturing at their other friend, who took a seat hastily in front of Virgil.
“What? What’s goin’ on?” Felix asked, looking from one to the other. “What happened? What’d I miss?”
“Felix!” Virgil boomed, searching through his backpack for his homework. “Just the man I wanted to see. You’re goin’ to a movie with us Friday night. No ifs, ands, buts, or nos about it!”
“What? I am? With who? What’s goin’ on?”
Richie sighed as he turned to face the window, staring out over the campus with a bored expression. A ‘date’, huh? And he’d have to go and watch those two make kissy faces all night? Yeah...right...he was looking forward to that.
He wanted to talk to Virgil about what involvement he’d had with Hotstreak and the gang fight yesterday, but every time he’d tried, something came up. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Hotstreak–in a way, he knew the male was serious if he caught wind of Richie Foley’s ‘involvement’ with things, and would no doubt go around doing as he threatened. While that was a threat, he was confident as Gear to set things straight. While on that route, he was also a bit worried that Hotstreak would carry out his threat, anyway. Which was why he wanted to talk to Virgil.
“Hey.”
He jerked out of his thoughts in surprise, looking up to see Hotstreak staring down at him, standing between his and Virgil’s desk.
“Come out here. I need to axe you sumthin’,” the male muttered, his lips curling into an intimidating sneer. He reeked of cigarettes and was currently chewing on a neon green wad of gum. Richie froze in his seat, unsure of what was going to happen now. First Ebon’s crew, then Hotstreak? What the hell?
“Hey, what you want from him, Francis?” Virgil interrupted, then abruptly ducked when one of Hotstreak’s hands swiped the air above his head.
“None of your fuckin’ business, monkey-man. This ain’t your business. Stay outta it, or I’ll make you regret ever openin’ your mouth!”
“It’s okay, V,” Richie said quickly, their classmates looking over at them with interest. The last bell rang, the teacher running in late, but he felt he had no other choice as Hotstreak led the way out of the room.
“Stone? Foley? What’s going on?” the man asked, looking at them curiously. Richie gave him a helpless look as he followed the other male out of the room. He was then dismayed to see that Hotstreak wasn’t about to talk right there–he was continuing down the hall, toward the side exit doors.
The teacher came out from the room, Virgil popping out behind him. “Class is in session, now!”
“Rich! Man! You okay?”
“I’ll be right back!” Richie assured them both, but his voice wavered as he turned, and hurried after the other male. Great, he thought. This better be important.
Warnings: SLASH, violence, swear words galore, and...uh..we’ll see what else later on.
OooooooooooO means scene break
If It Makes You Happy:
Chapter Three
“What?” Static cried in confusion, swooping low to the rooftop. Gear was already there waiting for him, a visible grin on his lips as the teen hovered nearby, energy crackling. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“I kid you not, my friend. They’re shutting down Dakota’s only cockroach joint because Ebon and his gang shot it up last night.”
“Noooooo!” Static howled, hands on his face. “That’s where I got the best nachoes in Dakota! This is seriously wrong! Let’s find the bitch!”
Gear laughed, hands on his hips as Static’s face shifted to something determined and venomous. “They were going to shut it down, anyway, man. Even if Ebon hadn’t gotten there first, the city would have.”
“Aw, man, you’re just all sore cuz of a little upset stomach the last time you ate there. I ain’t listenin’ to no haters,” Static sniffed, turning his head to survey the streets below them.
“‘A little upset stomach’?” Gear shouted, barely keeping himself from screeching. “I’ll have you know that I made friends with the commode for over a week! A WEEK! We’re practically brothers, now!”
“I still say ya’ll are sissy an’ couldn’t handle a little sauce,” Static sniffed.
“Oh, I can handle. I just can’t handle when my intestines are being eaten by acid!”
“Hater.” Static chuckled, and the pair of them grinned at each other. “Other than that, what else been going down?”
“Ebon’s gang and the Five Alarm Crew...all night. Something’s stirred up their nests,” Gear reported, watching the flash of data that scrolled down the inside of his visor. “Aside from the battle down on Tenth, they’ve been hitting up on each other throughout various areas of the city. No real connections–it looks like they’re just batting at whomever drops on by.”
“What the hell’s up their asses, now?” Static sighed, dropping his hold on his disc, landing neatly beside his partner. “Who insulted whose bitch?”
Gear chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know, but this ‘bitch’ better be worth all the effort.”
“Bitch better be made of Gold! GOLD!”
The two laughed briefly, then resumed scanning over the streets below them. It was a cool early morning, the sun just a couple hours away from rising. Both of them managed to rustle themselves out of sleep to come out to patrol. As it was, Dakota was pretty quiet for the now.
Gear shifted from one foot to the other, glancing over at his partner. “In that way of things...do you think this is why Hotstreak’s hiding out at the high school? Ebon doesn’t really bother the place...”
“More than likely,” Static said with a thoughtful frown, rubbing his exposed chin. “Ebon won’t touch the place, an’ Hot Head knows it. Probably just goes to feel safe. Though, it is pretty cowardly of him to be doin’ that.”
“Even if Ebon doesn’t want to touch it, he might get antsy enough to drop by, one day. And with all these drive-bys, I’m a little scared they’re going to go all out on campus. We need to be ready for that, V,” Gear said with a worried frown.
Static nodded with a solemn air. “Ah, man, definitely. Though it would fuckin’ suck if Ebon lowered himself to do that. We should just stay on alert, just in case.”
“Think we should go directly to the source, an’ find out what’s going down with the pair of them? I mean, encounter them directly?” Gear asked him, reaching back to pull one of his feet up, lightly stretching his right hamstring. “They might give a little if we do that.”
“Sounds like a plan, m’man!”
“V...stop.”
“Right. 221;
The pair of them left the rooftop, and headed directly east, heading toward Ebon’s regular hidey-hole near the lake. Upon reaching the area, though, Gear reacted with a startled exclamation, pulling back as Backpack let loose with a warning. Static moved at the same instant, just barely avoiding the thrown oil barrel. Looking down below them was a grinning Tarmack. The bang baby, formed entirely out of melted oil, sludge, and whatever else the unfortunate soul managed to absorb during the night of the Big Bang, was nearly hidden in the shadows below them.
The pair looked at each other, and immediately lost altitude to confront the bang baby. Static pulled ahead, throwing an energy blast at the changed man, and watched with dismay as the man merged with the street, sinking out of view.
“Left! I got left!” Gear shouted behind him, whirling in mid-air to hurl a Zap Cap at an incoming foe. Static turned sharply in time to see Shiv being bound by various metal arms, his face wrinkling with a startled expression. He hit the pavement hard in his bound state. His arms, which had formed twin glowing swords, shifted abruptly back to normal human appendages.
Static saw movement just behind his partner, and flung a blast in Gear’s direction. Gear knew when to move, and ducked quickly, startling his would-be attacker.
Talon shrieked as she was struck, her feathers ruffling as she lost height. Gear maneuvered around, withdrawing a cap from his belt and preparing to throw. Backpack uttered another warning, and he turned quickly to see Kangor leaping at him, one boot extended.
“Ouch,” he uttered before the large boot made contact with his chest. He was knocked completely out of the air, slamming back first into a nearby dumpster with a resounding bang. Static was already in Kangor’s face, knocking the large footed man back into the shadows he’d come from, avenging snarl leaving his lips.
Shaking his head, a little disoriented from the painful impacts, Gear rose from the pavement, stepping over Shiv to see where Talon had gone. Static had Kangor handled, using his power to zap the Jamaican into submission.
The bird woman emerged from the rooftop of one of the nearby buildings, her mouth opening wide to emit a scream when Gear pulled his arm back, and flung his weapon at the woman. She uttered a surprised squawk as metal bands wrapped around her torso, her dead weight dropping her from the sky. The fall was a long one–Static moved away from Kangor to catch her in mid-fall, and deposited her next to the bound Shiv.
“You ain’t got anything on us!” Shiv shrieked, kicking his feet out. “You all attacked us, first! We ain’t done shit!”
“Shut up!” Talon screeched at him. “Shut your stupid mouth, Shiv!”
“Well, well, well,” Static chuckled, alighting from his disc. “Let’s not fight, kids. We’ve got a long night ahead of us. Ya’ll got some questions we needs answered. Any volunteers?”
“Fuck you!” Shiv squeaked, receiving a foot to his face for his trouble.
Talon directed a heated glare at the boys as she twisted onto her back. “We ain’t got nothing to say,” the Latina declared, her accented voice tinged with hate. “You all rolled up on us. We were surprised.”
“I’m sure our arrival wasn’t that much of a surprise,” Gear said in an incredulous tone. “You can hear Static talking halfway across the city.”
“Har, har, Jim Carrey,” Static said dryly, giving his partner an exasperated look. “Other than the fact that my partner thinks he’s funny, what’s all this commotion about, over here? Where’s your daddy?”
Talon opened her mouth to give a snappish retort, but the sound of breaking glass caught their attention. Tarmac emerged once more from the pavement, lifting a rusted, rundown Buick over his head. Static and Gear looked at him in surprise, then both separated to avoid being crushed by the flying vehicle. Static turned and caught the rusted thing before it could crush both Talon and Shiv, both of the metahumans cringing.
Gear wound up for another attack, eyeing Tarmac’s position as he pulled his arm back. Before he could do anything, though, Tarmac suddenly relaxed, looking beyond him. He turned, looking behind him to see Ebon’s long, shadowy form emerging from the building behind him. Quickly, needing the guy in sight, Gear switched position, with Static coming up close to cover his back.
“What’s all this commotion?” Ebon demanded, resuming humanoid form as he alighted on the pavement, glaring up at the two heroes. “Whatchu doing, messing with my friends, here?”
“Oh, so they’re your friends, now?” Static asked, his tone incredulous as Gear chuckled. “Just the other day, you were referring to them as your brainless slaves...”
“What?” Talon shrieked. “You be saying shit, Ebon?”
“Shut your shrieking, Theresa,” Ebon ordered with an annoyed tone. “I ain’t sayin’ shit. Least ways, it ain’t that way, girl. He just be runnin’ his mouth, like he always does. S’what he’s good at.”
“Are you saying you know? Well, Ebon! I had no idea we were so close!” Static exclaimed, looking amazed.
Ebon lost his cool, jabbing a finger up in his direction. “I don’t want no shit coming from you, boy! What the fuck are you two doin’ here?”
“We heard there was a yard sale ‘round these parts. Been lookin’ for some bachelor furniture. Ain’t one of you guys seen a three legged table here?”
“I really tire of that mouth of yours, Static. That’s all you fucking do. Meanwhile, you’re wasting my time. Seein’ as my crew hadn’t done anything to the two of you, why don’t you let them go? They ain’t done shit.”
Gear exchanged a look with Static, who shrugged. Touching onto the pavement, Gear took his time in releasing the two that lay on the pavement, both of them hissing in annoyance as they were freed from the tightened bonds.
Ebon set his hands on his hips, nodding at his metabreed followers, and Static watched with some careful consideration as the four disappeared within the shadows around them. Satisfied that he was alone with the pair of superheros, Ebon looked at them both once more.
“Well! I’m here! What the hell do you want?”
“How do you know we’re lookin’ for you?” Static questioned, touching down on the pavement, and holding his disk in front of him. “Maybe we’re just scouting this area out for something fun to do.”
“Like yourselves?”
“Ever the comedian!” Static declared. “You’ve no idea how many times a night we get that, eh, Gear?’
His partner chuckled weakly, then cleared his throat. “Constantly. I think they know something we don’t. Should we be afraid?”
“Cut the crap! Get this shit over with!” Ebon ordered, his eyes narrowing with exasperation. “Betcha all are wonderin’ about this thang with me an’ Francis.”
“What is going on between you two?” Gear asked, frowning at him.
“I don’t know shit. Just some rumors here and there. Ain’t nothin’ of importance,” Ebon answered coolly, looking as if he knew nothing of what they were asking.
“So you’re sayin’ you don’t know why you two are busting caps at each other, an’ wrecking each other’s rides?” Static asked incredulously.
Ebon crossed his arms over his chest, and gave a stubborn sniff. “Don’t know shit. Probably ain’t even my crew. Has anybody seen me out in that shit?”
“Well, er...not really.”
“Then what the fuck? Why ya’ll being all racist an’ automatically pointing at me?”
“‘Racist’?” Static cried incredulously. “We’re the same race, Ebon! There’s no issue of race in this business!”
“Always fingerin’ the black man, always tryin’ to bring him down. Always pointin’ at me. How do ya’ll know it ain’t Hotstreak that’s causin’ shit? Just cuz he’s the right color, an’ all...”
“We’re not going to get anywhere with him, Static,” Gear said on an exasperated sigh, sore shoulders slumping.
Static recharged his disk, alighting into the air as he frowned at Ebon. “Even if no one seen you around these things, we know it’s all you involved. Your guys may as be wearing big ole bright ‘E’s on their clothes to broadcast their affiliation.”
“I ain’t guilty of nothin’, you little shit. Get your baby asses out of my area. You ain’t got shit on me,” Ebon cursed, crossing his arms once more, and eyeing them with contempt.
Static sighed tiredly, shaking his head as he glanced at his partner. “Welp. You heard the guy. Let’s head on out of here.”
Gear shrugged and joined him in the air, the two leaving amidst the cackle of energy and boosters. Ebon watched them leave, shaking his head in disgust. From the shadows, Kangor emerged, looking more than miffed as he approached his boss.
“Man, we got the tag on Stone,” the large footed Jamaican reported, narrowing his eyes. “He be seen wandering around Twentieth and shit earlier on...he ain’t anywhere, now.”
“Any clues on the kid he pulled?” Ebon questioned, glancing around curiously as he and Kangor made their way to a closed door nearby.
“Yeah. Just some high school brat he be goin’ to school with. Ain’t no one of any importance. Already checked out his family. Father works for that insurance agency down on Main, and mamma’s one of those bitches that stay at home. Ain’t nothin’ interestin’.”
“Hotstreak ain’t savin’ no kid that ain’t worth nothin’,” Ebon said in disgust, giving the man a dark look. “There be something important about that kid, an’ I wanna know why.”
“Why you gotta be that way, man? Who cares? Probably just some brat he be thinkin’ joinin’ his crew!” Kangor replied in a similar manner, hands splayed. “You all obvious, man.”
“‘Obvious’ ‘bout what, Kangor?” Ebon hissed, rearing on him, his form shifting slightly to loom over the guy.
Nervously, Kangor cringed, hands up in a placating gesture. “I was just sayin’. We all know you like them white folk.”
Ebon whacked him across the head. “You’re pathetic. I ain’t none of that. I’m just fuckin’ curious. Could be something to use against that hot-head in the future. You been out of jail long, Kangor? Only something like that could make you say what you say.”
“Nah, I ain’t nothin’,” Kangor muttered, head lowering. “Just sayin’.”
Ebon snorted, glancing at the other members of his crew as they watched the pair silently. The darkened room of the abandoned clothing sweatshop was covered in dust and broken machines, the floor littered with various thread spools, trash, and the occasional material roll.
“Ya’ll got somethin’ ya want to say?” he demanded. “What they be doin’ out here? What made them come out here?”
“Man, stop your bitching,” Talon muttered, flipping the end of her ponytail from her face. Her humanoid face, covered with tiny light orange feathers ruffled with her irritation as she examined her nails. From her arms, the long flight feathers she used to fly with ruffled with her mood as well. Ebon eyed her with annoyance as her tone grated on his ears. “They came out this way, and we didn’t get a chance to find out why. They surprised us.”
“So you guys got all guilty an’ called them out?”
“We didn’t do anything, Ebon!” Shiv exclaimed. The Asian was excitable, as usual, his shirt flapping as he jumped down from a table to confront the shadow man with his exclamations. “We was just minding our own business! Then they’re all throwing stuff at us, and wrecking us around–!”
“It’s all obvious it’s all you causing trouble, Ebon!” Talon snorted, awkwardly crossing her arms as she glared at the shadowman. “Everyone knows you ain’t gettin’ along with Hotstreak and his crew. Anyone would think that!”
“Yeah, well...that ain’t my business. I just want none of ya’ll giving shit away,” Ebon decided, frowning at them all. “Saying as such, seein’ as we backed the fucker into a corner, we got us a little leverage over his group. He ain’t got peoples the way I got peoples. And I got ya’ll. I want ya’ll to be backin’ me up at nights. But stay out of sight.”
“Aw, man! I don’t want no part of that!” Talon cried. “Hotstreak and his crew are just refusing to acknowledge what’s your territory! We shouldn’t be part of that bullshit! He don’t come this way!”
“You defending him, Theresa?” Ebon asked curiously, his shadowy form moving swiftly to come up before her. She startled at his sudden closeness, drawing her head back as he loomed over her. “What’s this business, man?”
“I’m just saying!” she insisted, slipping off her table, and sliding around him to give herself some space. “He hasn’t done shit to you. You just got all up on his face that one day, cuz he didn’t listen to what you wanted to say.”
“I had some plans, man, an’ he just started mouthing off, like he normally does,” Ebon complained, hands out to the side.
“Then you hadda go and bust shit up by stirring up all this business!” Talon snorted, shaking her head. “It’s all on you, Ebon, and your regular crew. Leave us out of this one. We ain’t doing no fighting against stupid shit like this.”
“You back talking me, Theresa? You sure you wanna go that route?” Ebon threatened, looming over her once more.
“You ain’t scary shit, Ebon,” Talon said quietly, glaring at him. “We follow you an’ all, but I just don’t think we should get involved with this shit you got going on with Francis...”
“‘Francis, Francis, Francis’,” Ebon said on a sneer, mimicking her tone. “You got somethin’ goin on with that cracker, girl?”
“Fuck you, Ebon!”
“I don’t do animals, girl.”
Before Talon could strike at him, Kangor interrupted, placing himself between them. He was listening to a handheld police scanner with a serious expression. “Listen to this, man,” he ordered. “The police are putting out an APB on you, Ebon. Seems we gotta witness that confessed the shit goin’ down on Tenth.”
“What?” Ebon cried angrily, rearing on him. “I made sure to stay out of sight!”
Talon rolled her eyes. Why did Ebon think he was going to get away with something like that, when it was obvious his crew were the culprits?
Ebon suddenly whirled, growling fiercely as he balled his fists. “That little shit talked!”
“What? Who?”
“Francis’ little bitch! That’s it! I’m sick of this shit! Kangor, get my crew on the line. I need to talk to the man in charge of things.”
“Er...right, boss.” Kangor hurried off to do as his boss said, and Talon rolled her eyes once more.
Ebon turned to her, jabbing his finger just below her collarbone. She hissed, slapping his hand away from her as he growled, “And we’ll continue this later, Theresa. Don’t you be runnin’ far.”
“Like I’m scared of you, Ebon. An’ I ain’t going nowhere.”
Ebon snorted, and turned away from her. It was very early morning, but that didn’t mean anything when it concerned his business.
OooooooooooO
Richie sighed as he rubbed his eyes. His lack of glasses, his eyes straining to see, was giving him a headache. One that couldn’t be chased away with Coke or aspirin. Virgil was busy yammering a mile a minute, looking entirely as if he’d gotten more than eight hours of sleep, and Richie himself was sprawled almost bonelessly on the bench nearby. Virgil was playing a free-for-all basketball game with a couple of other boys, Daisy cheering him on from nearby.
It was lunchtime, and while Richie had caught a nap in first period, it wasn’t enough to keep his attention focused on things. Besides that, he felt sore all over. His father had been furious about something or another last night; adding to that the impact, Kangor’s kick had left more than one spot colored and muscles tender. It hurt just to sit. Of course, he really wasn’t going to complain about his family situation–he didn’t want people to look at him oddly, the way they did whenever they learned someone was having ‘problems’ at home.
Anyway, it wasn’t as if the situation were a new one–out here, where he was a minority, the school composed mainly of blacks and Hispanics, everyone had a sob story to confess. It wasn’t anything new. He especially didn’t want Virgil to worry, anyway. The guy knew his father was a racist–why add to the fact that he was also an abuser? He didn’t want that concern and pity, so he kept quiet about it. Besides, he always had explanations for the marks, in the excuse of patrolling.
He watched, squinting as Virgil dribbled maniacally around Felix and Ducky, shouting some commentary out loud as he did so. When he lost the ball, Wade picking up the sphere with a loud shout and a shot, Virgil moaned his lack of skill by limping over to Daisy for some comfort.
Richie snorted, shaking his head as he pillowed his arms before him. Virgil’s obvious like for Daisy grated on his nerves. He was jealous, all right, but couldn’t he be? He was in love with his best friend, and the guy liked someone else. A girl, at that. The story of his life, actually. He was always fated to be a step behind happiness, what with his home-life, and all. And for the fact that he felt he didn’t have cool superpowers like V. Sure, having a genius brain was nice, but was it able to fire lasers, or create shields, or blast bombs–?
It sure didn’t keep him from getting bruises from both his father and Kangor, last night.
He sighed again, this time in misery, and closed his eyes. May as well as catch up on some rest. He had almost faded away into dreamworld, where a half naked Virgil was awaiting him with nachoes and cola when he felt a hand on his back. He blinked one eye open, squinting up to see a couple of black teens standing over him, both dressed in expensive Adidas wear and gold. A lot of gold.
“Hey, we wanna talk to you,” one said, this one wearing sleek Ray-Bans and sporting four gold teeth.
“Let’s go someplace private.”
Richie didn’t move. “You guys weren’t released from prison recently, by any chance, were you?”
“Wha–? Shit, white boy! Shut your trap! Ain’t none of us came from fuckin’ prison!”
“Just checking. What’s this all about, anyway?” Richie asked, rising from the bench.
Virgil was too busy trying to snatch Daisy’s glasses from her, and wasn’t paying him any attention. Wade and Felix were too busy playing each other, and no one was noticing him being kidnaped by a pair of G-Unit shoes wearing thugs! Who knew where they were taking him? And for what business?
“Oh, just a few words we gotta have wit’ ya. Nothin’ much,” the other boy said, clapping his hand down onto his shoulder.
“Can’t we talk here? I mean..the bell’s going to ring, soon,” Richie said lamely, being forced away from the court and out toward the side of the school. He started to panic, knowing this place was infamous for jumps and random beatings, and wondered what he did lately to piss someone off.
“Just a few words, kid. Don’t even worry none what it’s about,” the first one said, walking ahead.
Richie shrugged and walked along with them, hands in his pockets. He was aware that his heart was beating a million miles an hour, and he was actually a little scared as to what the two wanted. When they emerged from the danger zone and approached a Navigator that looked suspiciously like the one that tried to run him over yesterday, he paused.
The hand on his shoulder tightened, and he knew he was in trouble if he stayed. The door to the back of the vehicle opened, and he took this chance to whirl away from the two teens, his hoodie being caught by the one he stood closest to. Quickly, he slithered his way out from the hoodie and ran off, ignoring the pained shouts behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he winced at the curses and shouts that followed him, but felt relieved that he wasn’t in that situation anymore.
He sighed as he walked back to his bench, rubbing his arms. That had been his favorite hoodie, too. Damn bastards. They could have at least traded their teeth for cash to get their own, he thought crossly as he sat back down on the bench.
He noticed that neither of his friends had noticed he’d been gone. Leaning his elbows upon his knees, he watched their game and tried to ignore Virgil flirting outright with Daisy.
“Where’s your sweater?” Virgil then asked during sixth, and Richie had to roll his eyes. He just now noticed? Virgil was too dense, sometimes, even for someone as brilliant as he.
“I let someone borrow it for awhile,” Richie answered, shrugging. Honestly, he felt naked without it. He was wearing a tee that was a couple of sizes bigger than he should, but the comfort the hoodie provided him left him feeling vulnerable.
“Who’s the lucky girl?”
“Girl?”
“That you let borrow it! You don’t let anyone wear it!”
“It’s because it was mine! And it wasn’t a question of me letting them borrow it–more rather, it was a... unasked borrowing situation.”
Virgil gave him a blank look. “What?”
Richie sighed. “Never mind. Hey, about yesterday...I need to talk to you about yesterday. I think I have a problem with someone.”
“Again? What’s it this time?”
“It–” Richie shut his mouth as he saw Hotstreak leaning against the wall, near the water fountain, glaring at him fiercely. He swallowed, clearing his throat as the older male watched them pass, without his cap and hoodie today. The intimidating menace was dressed in a faded red tee sloppily tucked into a pair of baggy pants that were defying gravity and a belt with his first initial on it. He looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed, red and yellow hair sloppily mussed, and eyes narrowed with irritation.
“Whoa! He’s back!” Virgil exclaimed. “This is the third day he came to school! What’s up, man? Gettin’ those grades on?”
“Fuck you, Hawkins!” Hotstreak snarled, straightening away from the wall and walking off.
Virgil cupped his hands around his mouth. “I’m proud of you, man! You just walked away! Proud of you!”
“You’re gonna piss him off, V,” Richie sighed, reaching back to rub the back of his neck. “Then I’ll have to take the fall for you, again. I seriously don’t want none of that, man.”
“Yeah, you’re right. C’mon, my fey friend! Off to class we go! Follow the road, the wonderful road of the hall!”
“V, seriously, you’re giving me a headache. What’s got you excited?” Richie asked him curiously, wincing at Virgil’s off-key tune.
“I got me a date! Yes, yes, yes, I know–one of many, but this is special.”
“‘One of many’? Shit, V. Like you go out. How many’s going this time?”
“Well, I was kinda thinkin’ a small group of friends–you, of course, Felix, Wade, Daisy, Freida–if she could pry her fine self away from the journalism thing–and a coupla other favorites. But this one is special. It’s just me and Daisy in the theater.”
“Oh, really? Where are the rest of us?”
“Sitting far on the other side of the theater–preferably in another movie.”
Richie shook his head. “You’re pathetic, V. If you’re on a date with someone, you gotta leave the friends home.”
“I can’t do that, Rich. It’s safer to go in groups. ‘Sides...uh...Daisy don’t know that it’s a date. And that you guys won’t be in the same theater.”
Richie rolled his eyes as they entered their classroom, taking their usual seat near the window. “Whatever, Virgil.”
“What’s that tone, for?’
“What tone?”
“You had a tone...”
“I didn’t have a tone!”
“There was a tone, there, Foley. The one that let me know just how jealous you are of me. You’re probably thinkin’...Man, that Virgil Hawkins. What a stud. If only I could have his game,” Virgil said, sweeping a hand through his dreads.
Richie sprawled out into his chair, wincing with the utter pain he felt as Virgil continued to stroke his own ego. “You and your dreams, V. Keep ‘em to yourself. Other people might get jealous...”
“Like you?”
“Like Felix,” Richie corrected, gesturing at their other friend, who took a seat hastily in front of Virgil.
“What? What’s goin’ on?” Felix asked, looking from one to the other. “What happened? What’d I miss?”
“Felix!” Virgil boomed, searching through his backpack for his homework. “Just the man I wanted to see. You’re goin’ to a movie with us Friday night. No ifs, ands, buts, or nos about it!”
“What? I am? With who? What’s goin’ on?”
Richie sighed as he turned to face the window, staring out over the campus with a bored expression. A ‘date’, huh? And he’d have to go and watch those two make kissy faces all night? Yeah...right...he was looking forward to that.
He wanted to talk to Virgil about what involvement he’d had with Hotstreak and the gang fight yesterday, but every time he’d tried, something came up. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Hotstreak–in a way, he knew the male was serious if he caught wind of Richie Foley’s ‘involvement’ with things, and would no doubt go around doing as he threatened. While that was a threat, he was confident as Gear to set things straight. While on that route, he was also a bit worried that Hotstreak would carry out his threat, anyway. Which was why he wanted to talk to Virgil.
“Hey.”
He jerked out of his thoughts in surprise, looking up to see Hotstreak staring down at him, standing between his and Virgil’s desk.
“Come out here. I need to axe you sumthin’,” the male muttered, his lips curling into an intimidating sneer. He reeked of cigarettes and was currently chewing on a neon green wad of gum. Richie froze in his seat, unsure of what was going to happen now. First Ebon’s crew, then Hotstreak? What the hell?
“Hey, what you want from him, Francis?” Virgil interrupted, then abruptly ducked when one of Hotstreak’s hands swiped the air above his head.
“None of your fuckin’ business, monkey-man. This ain’t your business. Stay outta it, or I’ll make you regret ever openin’ your mouth!”
“It’s okay, V,” Richie said quickly, their classmates looking over at them with interest. The last bell rang, the teacher running in late, but he felt he had no other choice as Hotstreak led the way out of the room.
“Stone? Foley? What’s going on?” the man asked, looking at them curiously. Richie gave him a helpless look as he followed the other male out of the room. He was then dismayed to see that Hotstreak wasn’t about to talk right there–he was continuing down the hall, toward the side exit doors.
The teacher came out from the room, Virgil popping out behind him. “Class is in session, now!”
“Rich! Man! You okay?”
“I’ll be right back!” Richie assured them both, but his voice wavered as he turned, and hurried after the other male. Great, he thought. This better be important.