"Way to go, Mikey!" Chuck, only a few days a junior, flings his hands above his head, twitching nervously in his chair as his best friend since kindergarten laughs loudly beside him.
"Relax, Chuckles, we aren't gonna get in that much trouble." The brunette kicks his legs out in front of him and crosses them at the ankle. The blonde beside him is not at all impressed, the bangs masking his face doing nothing to cover the glare Mike could feel burning into him. This only aids in his laughter, adding to Chuck's anger.
"Mikey, that's exactly what you said LAST TIME!" The blonde's stress gets the better of him, a sort of venom making its way into his words. On any other day, Chuck would immediately shame himself for raising his voice like that, but today, he was pissed.
"And did we get in trouble last time?" Mike quirks an eyebrow, though his bangs covered most of it. Chuck looks like he could exploded from frustration at this point, having a full power point as to why this time was not like the last time already prepared in his head, complete with colorful language that he otherwise never used.
"MIKEY, WE BLEW UP A FUCKING TOILET! THIS IS THE THIRD TIME WE"VE BEEN CALLED DOWN HERE! WE'RE GONNA GET FUCKING SUSPENDED!" He throws his arms into the air to complete his dramatic performance, but to no avail. Mike still has that cocky grin on his face.
"Relax, Chuck, I got this."
There is a break in the conversation as Chuck stares at his best friend. The look of agony never leaves his face as he asks, by far, the dumbest question he will ever ask in his life.
"Tell me, Mike..." He says all in one sigh, "What exactly is it that you got?" He rubs a hand down his face, preparing for the equally dumb answer to follow.
"Just trust me, Kane won't even know we're here." Mike offers his friend a grin, but Chuck is too pissed off to notice it.
"I swear, Mikey, if I get another detention, I'm gonn-"
"PRINCIPAL KANE, THERE'S A FIGHT GOING ON IN THE AUDITORIUM!" A third voice cuts off the blonde and the sudden shriek of 'WHAT!?' from the principal and the heavy thud of foot steps from both him and the vice principal, Tooley, is heard from just outside the door as the two head down to the scene.
Mike's smile only grows as the door knob is turned and a familiar face walks in.
"Thanks, Dutch, knew I could count on you." Mike stands, holding his hand up for a high-five.
"Any time, man." Dutch returns the high five before turning his attention to Chuck again, who is staring off at the wall in front of him.
"Uh...is he alright?" The male waves a hand in front of the blonde's face.
"Of course he is." Mike slaps Chuck on the shoulder, which would usually break his trance, but again, this time was not like the last time at all.
"Uh...should we...help him?" Dutch asks, already advancing toward the blonde.
"Yeah, we should probably get him to lunch." Mike slings one of Chuck's arms over his shoulders while Dutch gets the other arm. If that wasn't going to make them run to lunch, then it would be Kane, returning to his office with two different students, forgetting completely about the other two students he should have been flinging detentions at.
"Alright, almost there." Mike stops to shift Chuck's arm higher on his shoulder. The blonde had at one point slumped over, making him heavier than he usually was.
"Let's just get the table an- OH HELL NAW!" Dutch throws Chuck on to Mike, taking off toward the cafeteria. Had Chuck been completely conscious, Mike would have already been there.
Across the lunch room sat the table. No. Not the table. THE table! Thy holy table! THE TABLE!
It was by the back entrance, allowing for easy escapes if Kane were to realize he had a few extra detentions left unserved. It was close enough to the lunch line that whom ever claimed it was usually first in line and yet far enough from the hall monitors and teachers that plans of skipping and the next outrageous scheme for shop class could be discussed without interference.
And that very table was about to be taken by the Amazons! The bitchiest dance team in the entire damn worldl!
"DUTCH! RUN!" Mike calls, pulling Chuck's arms over his shoulders, breaking into a sprint.
"WE'RE NOT GONNA MAKE IT!" Dutch yells back, casting his backpack to the floor in an attempt to make himself faster.
Chuck's weight became too much for Mike as he leaned forward too far to run faster and ended up sending the two skidding across the floor. Mike hardly had time to shove his blonde haired friend off of him as he watched, not the Amazons, but Texas, slam his lunch tray down, sending an assortment of chocolate milk, muscle mulch, and whatever other food the black haired male managed to con the lunch ladies out of.
"Whats with all the yelling, losers?" Texas grabs a cheeseburger from his tray, shoving it into his mouth in one bite.
"Alright, Texas!" Mike cheers from the floor, picking himself and Chuck up.
"Texas wouldn't let those bitches get the table." The football player states proudly, taking a gulp of victory chocolate milk.
"Hey, whats with all the cheering?" Julie arrives to the table, tray of salad and ice tea in hand.
"Amazons." Mike replies coolly, looking up in time to see Dutch return with his own food. Snatching up an apple, Mike takes a bite, settling in a chair, "So, what's our next plan for Ka-"
"Mike!" Jacob rushes to his grandson, paper bag in one hand, trash can in the other. On a regular day, Mike would have hidden from the old janitor, but today, he was still enjoying the group's victory.
"Sup, Jacob? Mike looked up, knowing exactly what he was about to be lectured on.
"You left your lunch on the counter...again." He attempts to hand the bag off to the teenager, who simply holds up a hand to stop him.
"No thanks, granddad. I already bought lunch."
"But I made retch root caps!" Jacob flings his hands in the air.
"I'LL EAT IT!" Texas looks up from his pudding cup, but the old man turns to the blonde,
"Chuck?" Jacob shakes the bag before the blonde's face but receives no reaction, "Uh...is he okay?"
"Dude...he didn't even flinch." Dutch points out, lifting his spoon to whack the boy on the nose, "Nothin'."
"Well," Mike rises to his feet, "Should probably get him to Nurse Kaia."
"Man, I don't want to carry him." Dutch returns to his food.
"Yeah. Texas has a game tonight. Texas doesn't want to pull anything."
"If only we had something with wheels..." Mike rests a hand on his chin before a slow smile crept onto his face.
and that was how Chuck would up in a trash can, headed to the nurses office.
Disclaimers: I own nothing!