Birds of the Cage
The afternoon shone through the dusty windows of Devon's library with all the crisp, vibrant glory of October. It caught glittering particles of dust, as they were suspended in peaceful oblivion. It traced vague shadows over the shelves and tables, emphasizing the weighty silence that hung in the room.
Silence, all save for an off-key humming that interrupted the perpetual stillness of the room.
Three boys sat at one of the tables, the only inhabitants of the library: Leper Lepellier, some distant daydream on his mild features as he sat sketching in a sketchbook; Gene Forrester, his head bent over schoolwork; and none other than Phineas, who sat with his chair kicked back on two legs, eyeing the ceiling and humming to himself, trying not to look too bored. And failing.
The humming continued for some time, before its meandering melody was broken.
"You really are awful at that," Gene suddenly mumbled, glancing at Finny.
"Are you kidding!" Finny retorted, eager at the chance to talk, "Why, I'm a regular virtuoso!"
"You're a regular something," Leper said, unable to keep his comment out of the discussion.
"Go back to your drawings!" Finny said, his expression a comical rendition of disgust, "Gene locks me up with nothing to do and you insult me. It's a wonder I don't put myself out of my misery."
"I don't care what you do," Leper answered, "Just don't hum any more."
"I didn't make you come," Gene told Finny, his attention still focused on the work in front of him.
"You practically begged me!" Finny cried.
"I didn't beg anyone."
"That's what you say."
There was an irritable pause that Gene hardly seemed to notice; he was still too absorbed in his writing.
"You ought to be doing this yourself, Finny," He said, finally looking up, "There's an examination next week."
"It's next week! So I'll take a look at it next week," Finny paused, before grinning and adding, "Maybe. Of course if I can't find the time, I won't be able to and we both know what a busy guy I am."
"Oh yes," Gene said, his tones drenched in sarcasm, "You're real busy."
"Naturally."
As they sat and talked, they didn't pay much attention to the mismatched pair of boys that entered the library, and looked around. If anyone sitting at the table had bothered to look up, they would've identified the pair as classmates Brinker Hadley and Chet Douglass. But Leper was absorbed in his sketching, Gene his work, and Finny distracting Gene.
"Here you guys are!" Chet called, making a beeline for their table, "We were thought you were over in the gym."
"Whatever would we be doing over there?" Finny cried, looking appalled at the very thought, "On a fine October day such as this! Slacking in our studies! I'm astonished you would even think—"
"Seriously, Finny. It's not like I made you come with me," Gene mumbled, "You could've gone over there if you wanted."
"Obviously I didn't want," Finny sighed, and looked up, "And what about you lot? What do you want?"
Brinker and Chet glanced at each other, snickering. "Take a look at this," Brinker said and produced a small, crumbled piece of paper from his pocket, "Just take a look at this."
"What is it?" Gene asked, eying the piece of paper.
Brinker snickered again, holding the little paper up. The small strings of typeface betrayed it as being a clipping of some sort, from either a magazine or book. "Bobby Zane found it," He told them, and set the clipping on the table, "Just read it."
Gene picked it up, and Leper leaned in to read it. Finny, on the other hand, didn't bother looking interested by so much as lower his chair.
"That better be interesting, Brinker," He warned, "Gene is in the middle of a very important task!"
Brinker raised a critical eyebrow, "Your homework?"
"Latin."
Brinker made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat and shook his head, saying nothing.
A matter of moments later it seemed that at least Gene had finished reading the article: "Where did you get that?" He asked, looking up with an expression somewhere between disgust and bemusement.
"Bobby found it!" Chet laughed and leaned in, "What do you say to that?"
"I say it's bizarre," Gene answered.
Leper finished reading, and set the clipping down, "It's simple male physiology. It's not that interesting."
"Male physiology!" Brinker mocked surprise, "Simple male physiology! Of course!"
"What was it?" Finny finally allowed himself to ask, directing his question towards Gene.
"It's about some experiment someone did," Gene started, but Brinker cut off his explanation.
"An experiment," He cut in, "They put all these male birds together in a cage and after a while, they started chasing after each other because there were no females."
Chet laughed, "Isn't that funny? They repeated the same study with female birds, and that didn't happen."
"Male physiology," Leper repeated.
"And what about us!" Chet pointed out, still grinning, "Are we chasing after each other yet?"
"What do you say, Gene?" Brinker asked, leaning in towards the aforementioned, "Has Leper here been looking better to you? Or Finny, maybe?"
"Go throw yourself out the window," Gene shot back, casting him a distasteful look.
Brinker laughed, and started to say something else before he was cut off:
"I think it's a great idea," Finny said loudly.
Silence fell, and all eyes turned to him.
He grinned back at them, green eyes glittering, and snapped his chair down. "I mean, really," He went on, "That makes the Halloween Dance a lot more interesting, huh?"
There was another pause, before Brinker spoke. "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, his voice a mixture of confusion and disgust.
"The Halloween Dance," Finny repeated, and looked over at Gene, "Gene knows what I'm talking about. Now we'll actually have someone to take."
Gene sunk some ways in his chair, and muttered some inaudible comment. He didn't believe what he was hearing, this insane logic. He didn't believe it, and yet he wasn't surprised. Not surprised in the least; it was just another day with his best friend and roommate, Phineas.
"I don't get it," Leper was saying, looking back and forth at the assembled boys with confusion written on his quiet features.
"We'll take each other, of course!"
"We're not a bunch of fairies, Finny," Brinker said curtly, raising a critical eyebrow.
"Apparently that doesn't matter," Finny tapped at the clipping.
"We're not birds, either."
"What's with all the negativity? You don't have to go if you don't want to," Finny gave a vague smile, and glanced at Gene, "No one's making you."
Finny and Brinker exchanged a few more curt words, before they were suddenly cut off by Gene, who loudly slammed his book shut and got to his feet.
"This is useless," He muttered, pushing the book and scattered papers across the table, towards Phineas, "You can do your own work, Finny. I'm going back to our room."
"What! No," Finny jumped to his feet, "Wait, I'll come with you."
Gene rolled his eyes, but didn't object.
With a few absent parting words to the remaining boys, the pair made for the library's door.
"You aren't serious about this dance thing, are you?" Gene asked, as they walked. He didn't know why he'd bothered to ask; he knew his friend well enough to know what the answer was.
"Serious!" Finny cried, "Why of course I'm serious!"
Gene didn't reply, lapsing into a dark silence. Finny watched him carefully for a moment, before bursting into an excited grin.
"It'll be fun! Believe me, pal," Phineas slung his arm over Gene's shoulders and grinned, bright eyes glinting, "It'll be fun."
A/N: Oh, yeah. I borrowed the aforementioned "article" from "Legal Drug."
So, yes. That's not my idea. Or something. Lah!