BEGINNING OF MY NEWEST ONESHOT. Will be updated in a few days...Just wanted to post it.
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Craig's annual, infamous Easter-weekend party was defiantly not something to miss. Everyone who's invited (that being the upper crust of Park High's social spectrum) wouldn't dream of missing it. All the kids lucky enough to be invited, along with anyone else who managed to sneak in, and more than a few mutual friends from out of state, poured into Craig's house every year at Easter. His parents, unknowingly, hosted this huge party. Every year they went out of town over Easter break, leaving their house (and even larger liquor cabinet) in the hands of their 17 year old son. And every year their mistake, and trust in their not-so-trustworthy son, proved itself again, resulting in one of the best parties of the year. Although it took Craig a good few days to clean up after the party, before his parents got back, it was worth it, and furthered secured his social holding, keeping him ahead of the game, something that everyone had to worry about at Park High. Well, almost everyone. Some of us made the party be so important, so crucial. The ones who controlled this 'game', we just went for a good time, like it was a party thrown entirely for our amusement. And in some ways, it was, I suppose.
But I don't think of it like that. I mean, I'm a guy, my mind doesn't work that way. I prefer to just focus on the present, not caring why or how I and my closest friends got into such a position of power. Stan, Kenny and I don't really care either. We're used to having all eyes on us, being the center of the entire student body's attention. It's been that way for so long. This whole popularity game only gnaws on the girls, Wendy and Bebe. They do everything they can to keep their heads well above the water. And they're good at it too. Our small group is tightly knit, this innermost circle who know all of each other's secrets. Like about Stan and myself. They're the only ones, besides our families, I suppose, who know our true relationship. All of the 'outsiders', even the ones who have tangled themselves closely to our little group, like Craig, know nothing of this. Anyone may claim to know us like family, but only we know, that they know nothing at all.
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I can, personally, not wait to get to this party, but Stan has other ideas. His idea being that I go to his house first, and then we both arrive at the party a few hours late. I have no idea what he's trying to accomplish by this, but it's the reason that I'm cursing as I pull my key out of my truck's ignition and open the door. The air outside is stale and painfully cold. Slamming the door I notice that I must have left my skateboard in the back of the truck, God knows how long ago, as it's now practically frozen to the truck bed. Jesus Christ. This better be good, I need something to drink. Don't get me wrong, I love Stan more than anything, but sometimes he can be such a pain. I'll be at the point where I'll practically want to shoot him, but he always seems to make up for it. Like the time he persuaded me to skateboard off the garage roof with the logic 'You snowboard off the two story roof of your fucking house in the winter. Skateboarding off the garage roof will be just as easy.' Stupid logic, but being one to never pass up a challenge, I took it, and ended up pulling a Jackass-class stunt, complete with a broken leg. Stan, feeling guilty, had nursed my leg (and managed to actually fracture it a second time when his 'nursing' got a little too physical) back to health. Recently I had actually attempted the stunt again (smart, I know) and had actually landed it perfectly. Stan, relieved beyond belief, had produced an enthusiastic round of celebratory sex as my reward.
When I get to Stan's front door, I pause before pressing the lit-up doorbell. Walking into the Marsh's house has been rather uncomfortable ever since they found out about our relationship. Sharon's so sweet and accepting about it, but I can tell that she'd rather not think about what goes on behind closed doors. Randy on the other hand, completely ignores me. It's like he won't even acknowledge that I'm in the same room. That doesn't matter though. I've had my revenge already, as Stan and I have christened his favorite armchair. Little does he know...
((To be continued in a few days.))