Teenage Dirtbag

By Saphron

Note: This fic is based on a true story. For anyone who is interested in a little background, the new guy's character was inspired by a real life bad-boy (who shall remain nameless)--I am Lindsey. While of course this fic isn't what happened in reality, I did draw some real life experiences into the story. Fortunately however, me and this guy broke it off before much could happen (I wasn't really into the whole 'let's get high and have sex thing,' so there was some definite problems from the start). So yea. In case any of you care about my past-quasi-existent-love-life. Right. Read on.

Note II: Songfic! Yay! The song belongs to Wheetus and their affiliates, I claim nothing--thanks for letting me borrow it. All characters, setting, fun catch phrases, etc. belong to the Freaks & Geeks people. (And I changed "Noel" to "Lindsey," first stanza.)

Summery: Nick is pining for his beloved Lindsey, who is off running around with a mysterious bad-ass (who ironically seems to be, at least to teachers and parents, the epitome of Harvard-material)--and getting in way over her head. Meanwhile, the geeks are dealing with their own dilemma--the sudden realization that no matter how hard they try members of the opposite sex will never return their affection. And while Lindsey is living in a party world, and the geeks are hilariously trying everything to snag a few females, Jean and Harold are having a few marital problems regarding severe boredom in the sack. What could possibly happen to our all star cast?

~*~

"Damn locker," I couldn't help but swear. The stupid thing had refused to open right when I had a math test in like, thirty seconds. Not that, you know, I'm into math or anything, but still. I need my calculator.

"Need a little help?" I turned my head in the direction of that soft voice--I didn't recognize it.

"Um, yea sure, that'd be great. Though I doubt you can get it to budge, it's like gone on strike or something." After a seemingly careless rap on the outside left corner frame--presto!--the door swung lightly open. "Oh wow, thanks!" I gushed, before remembering to tone it down a bit, "that was cool."

"Yea. Well, no prob. Call me if you ever need your door opened."

Oh my god--did he just wink at me? I watched the retreating back of the tall, cobalt-eyed boy until he disappeared down the hall, a faint smile adorning my lips…oh damn--the bell! Where in the hell did I put my calculator?

~

"No way, Gina is way cuter than Jill, Bill! That's so obvious," Neal snorted, reaching for a plastic cup of greenish jiggling lumps. Er, was this supposed to be Jell-O? It was kinda too scary to be his all time favorite dessert. And that green resembled mold…ew…

"Nu-uh. She's really tall."

"So?"

"Tall is good."

"Well if you like her so much why don't you ask her out?"

"Yea, you could take her to the Spring Formal."

Bill pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "maybe I will."

"And you could ask Cindy, Sam!"

"What? No way," Sam shuddered at the terrifying prospect of asking the girl of his dreams out, and the mysterious wobbling goo adorning his lunch platter.

"Why not?"

"She doesn't think of me that way…unfortunately."

"Yea, you're right, Cindy is a goddess, and goddesses don't date guys like us."

A collective sigh rang from the trio. The sad fact was simply true.

~

Nick stood hunched over on the burnout patio, humming the words to an unfamiliar tune under his breath. Lightly he sang,

Her name is Lindsey,

I have a dream about her,

She rings my bell.

I got gym class in half an hour,

And oh how she rocks,

In Keds and tube socks,

But she doesn't know who I am,

And she doesn't give a damn about me.

Sighing, he stared at his shoes, trying to shrug off the lingering thoughts of Her. Even though they had been broken up for two weeks now he still couldn't stop thinking about her. He felt so empty and lost--and angry, and sad. Normally breaking up with girls was just an inconvenience, because then he'd have to go to the trouble to find a new one, but with Her it was different…he had never been in love with anyone before, all these new emotions were so incredibly overwhelming.

He could just imagine Daniel snorting at him 'get a grip man! it's just a girl,' and he knew Daniel was right. He'd been moping around for half a month, and the only thing it accomplished was some serious depletion of his pot fund. In fact, he was completely out of it, which totally sucked because the weekend was coming up, and there was no way in hell he'd survive without a few joints to pick him up.

He unfurled from his slouching position and stood, scanning the wire fences of the school ground horizon. Ah! There was his dealer, lurking by the basketball hoops.

"Hey."

"Yo."

"I need a refill man, I'll pay tomorrow."

"Dude, I can't."

"Why not?"

"My old man like, totally annihilated my plant."

"No way!"

"Yea it sucks."

"But you have some backup right? I know you do, you gotta…I need it, I need…"

"Dude, look, I'm only telling you this cuz it looks like you'll shit your pants if you don't get any, but there's this new kid--word 'round the hood is he's got connections. Go ask him."

"Cool, thanks."

"Seeya."

~

Bill tapped took a deep--nasally--breath and walked over to a throng of freshman girls. Tapping the tallest female of the circle on the shoulder he stood, nervous and trying not to show it. When she still didn't acknowledge his existence he said loudly, "Um Jill?"

"Yea…?"

"Er I'm Bill, I sit behind you in math."

"Oh."

"Um, you're probably already going with someone else but--"

"Yea I am."

"Oh. How did you known what I was gonna ask? Can you read minds? Wow…"

"Look, I'm trying to save you some serious embarrassment here, I don't date guys like you. So bug off."

The snide remarks echoed throughout the hallway, the laughing cluster oblivious to Bill's crestfallen face. He walked away slowly, dejected, as Sam gave friendly looks of condolence, and Neal tried to smother his own hysterics.

"Nice try Bill."

"Yea, she was so stupid to turn you down. You're a great guy, she doesn't know what she's missing."

Sigh. Just because he was a great guy didn't make up for the fact that no matter how hard he tried, members of the opposite sex would never even give him a chance.

~

I'm lazily doodling in my notebook, like I always do during soc--there's really nothing better to do. As spirals and dancing monkeys formed on my neat lined paper, I was gazing out the window. I'd give anything to be out there, free from this endless drudgery… oh my god, there's that guy! The one who'd helped de-stuckinize my locker…what's he doing here?

"OK, new student. Take a seat kid," Mr. Firnelli grumbled, vaguely pointy towards the back of the room. He sighed, obviously as bored as his students, "Ok, moving on. George Washington was not only a good general, but also a good political leader…"

He's moving through the doorway, he's moving down the aisle…he's taking a seat behind me!

I heard a soft whisper in my left ear, "So what's your name again?"

"Er, I don't think I ever told you. It's Lindsey" Der! That was a stupid thing to say…God I suck at flirting…

"Yea, if you had told me I would have never forgotten it, it's so beautiful, like you."

Heh. Heheh. He called me beautiful…

"So should I just call you Mr. Charmer, or do you have a name?"

"Baby, you can call me whatever you want."

EEEEEEEE!!!! Red-alert--red-alert, hormones completely out-of-control…ok, deep breath, deep breath…quick! Say something flirtatious, "And you can call me, (818) 772-914."

"Ms. Wier! Do you care to share with the rest of the class your oh-so-interesting-conversation, which is apparently so much more important than the Declaration of Independence?

"Oh, er, um…I was just saying…George Washington was really good…er, yea. Heh."

"Riiiiiight. Detention today after school! Be there, Ms. Wier."

Oh my God--detention? I've like, never gotten detention in my entire life! Wow…I feel kinda rebellious…it's almost exciting, er, would be anyway, if my parents don't completely SLAUGHTER me!

~

"Hey dweebos, I heard you guys don't have any dates for the dance! Hahaha! That is so lame," Alan snorted contemptuously, secure in the knowledge that he had someone to take to the biggest school event of the year.

"Nu-uh, we have dates!"

"Yea right, what are their names?"

"Um…Violet?"

"And Allison--"

"Rebecca!"

"Riiiight, yea well any girls that'd go with you nerdlings must be totally lame."

"Yea! Ugly nerd girls!"

"They are not! They'll be way better than your dates!"

"Yea right! I'd pay to see that. In fact, if you guys show up at the dance with dates who are hotter than ours we won't take your lunch-money from you for the next month, but if you losers have hooked up with total dogs or don't even bother to show? Ten weeks allowance."

"What? No way! That's almost fifty dollars!"

"But hey, it's a sure thing right? You said it yourself that your dates are hot."

"Er, right…"

"Chicken!"

"Bawk! Bawk!"

"Fine! It's a bet! We have dates. And they're good dates too, really."

"Seeya then dweebs!"

Three pairs of eyes blinked. Three mouths hung open. Three heads watched the retreating backs of Alan and his cronies. Two faces turned to meet the third. "Um, Bill? WE DON'T HAVE ANY DATES!!!"

"Yea…but we can get some."

"Where? We've been trying for three weeks and nada, zero, zip, nothing, the dance is only a few days away! We are so dead! I don't have fifty dollars! Well ok, maybe that money Gramama Lilly gave me…but that's for college! I have to go to college! We are so dead!"

"Neal! Calm down, it's ok, we'll think of something. Now come on, English is starting."

~

Cuz I'm just a teenage dirt bag, baby

Yea I'm just a teenage dirt bag, baby

Listen to Iron Maiden, baby…with me. Ooh.

"Dude! What in the hell are you singing?"

"Oh, er nothing. Just some stupid little song."

"Whatever. Let's go, Kim will be totally pissed if we're late."

"Um…what about Lindsey, shouldn't we wait for her?"

"Nah, she's in the slammer. Let's go."

"What?"

"Detention dude."

"But Lindsey doesn't get detention!"

"She does when she's talking with guys in class. Now come on, Kim is gonna have my ass!"

"Right…"

~

"What do girls want?" The immortal query--around since the dawn of history. A question so frequently asked--whole books have been dedicated to it, and men have spent their lives attempting to answer it. They've come close, but really, no man will ever truly understand us.

"Who knows."

"I'll never understand them."

"Me neither."

"Hey, why don't we ask our dads? I mean, they're all married so they must know something about girls…"

"That is the stupidest idea I've ever heard…let's do it!"

"Mission accepted…"

"Right, report back tomorrow with the scoop agent 64!"

"Mission underway…"

~

"So what are you doing Saturday night?"

"Ah…what are you doing?"

"Taking you to see a kick-ass band, I'll pick you up at eight."

YES!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!! I just got asked out on my first real date (by a really, really hot guy)!!! (Nick only semi-counts, I mean we were together for like what? A week? And we barely did anything. All we did was kiss like, once, like quasi-making-out. Barely. Right, anyhow, I've moved on.) Lalala…life is fabulous…eek!--what do I wear to see a 'kick-ass band'? What about shoes--what about makeup? Cherry red lip-gloss or rose-red? I mean, the wrong lip-gloss could upset the entire outfit…ok, get a grip, I don't worry about fashion and how I look, that's for all those moronic superficial popular people…but still…WHICH FUCKING LIP-GLOSS? Oh my God…

~*~

Er right, not my best work but it was still fun to write. Besides, this isn't some serious dramatic fic, it's a fun and simple one, meant to be entertaining, and hence the plot is more important than the actual writing-style…or so I tell myself. REVIEW please, and tell me if you like this new story, and if I should bother continuing it, it'd be much appreciated. Gracias y hasta luego.