Hey people! Who's tired of me and my endless chaptered ficcies? (everyone in audience raises hand in unison) Eh, who cares what you think? Anywho, a quick note: In an attempt to make the computer run faster, my dad deleted every single piece of fanficiton I've ever written EVER, and I am MAJORLY pissed off, so Race's dad is going to continue to be an asshole throughout the whole fic, so...yeah. This was originally only supposed to be three pages, now it's five. I changed it some, flipped some stuff around, ya know? Hope you like, CC at the bottom!

I am a perfectly NORMAL teenage boy: I go to school, I play snare drum in the marching band, I get good grades, and I volunteer at the hospital. But, according to my dad, I have only one flaw:

I'm gay.

Yes, I kid you not. That's it.

Allow me to introduce myself: My name is Anthony 'Racetrack' Higgins, and I'm about 5'3", dark hair, even darker eyes, and I'm always drinking, gambling, and cracking jokes. The gambling one was how I got my nickname.

But anyways...

My dad thinks sending me to this military school(of which I've already forgotten the name) will somehow drill the gay outta me.

Good luck, fat chance, I DON'T THINK SO!!!

Ahem.

So, there I was, staring up at the massive oak front doors while my dad and brother took my stuff out of the car.

"Jeez, Race, what the HELL is in these things?! Bricks?!"

That would be my older brother, Mario. He's witty and sarcastic, kinda like me, only straight. He was my dad's golden boy, but we still managed to get along, because he actually accepted me for who I was, unlike SOME people(coughmydadcough) I could mention.

"HEY ANGIE!!" I yelled through the back window where my 14-year-old sister was talking and laughing loudly on her cell phone. "YA GONNA SAY GOOD-BYE TO ME, OR WHAT?!"

"WELL, BYE ALREADY!" she yelled, holding her hand over the mouthpiece. "SEE YA AT CHRISTMAS!!"

Yeesh. You'd think, for her own brother, she'd at least get out of the car and give me a hug.

But no. She's STILL talking on the damn cell phone. What's the world coming to?

My mother, who actually loves me, got out of the car and gave me a hug. "You hang in the, Anthony. You'll grow to like the school, you'll see."

I was sure I wouldn't, but I mustered up a smile, just for her. Gah, I love my mom so much. "Sure, mom" I said half-heartedly. "I'll see ya at Christmas time. Finals, and all that."

"Goodbye, dear. Have a good first term, call when you can. We all love you and we will all miss you. Well...goodbye."

I stood there waving goodbye for about five minutes, till I couldn't see the car anymore. Then, heaving a huge sigh, I scooped up my bags, and pushed open one of the giant oak doors.

Directly into someone's face.

"HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK?! GODDAMMIT!! WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOIN' ASSHOLE!!"

The voice was very loud, very angry, and very female. How does that saying go? 'Hell hath no fury like a woman in wroth'?

Oh, yeah. This chick was the epitome of that statement. She was about 7 inches taller then me(I'm 5'3"), and she had blonde hair, blue eyes ringed with grey, and I couldn't see the rest of her face because both hands were clamped over her nose, presumably to stop the bleeding I'd started.

"OH MY GOD I'M SORRY!" I yelled, running over to see if she was all right. "You OK?"

"Yeah. It more took me by surprise then anything else. I'm Elizabeth, call me that and I die. I go by Spitfire. And you are...?"

"Name's Anthony. Call me that, and you will die. I usually go by Racetrack, since I love to gamble, ya know?"

"Fun stuff" she replied. "Where ya from?"

"NYC. Little Italy, to be precise. You?"

"Brooklyn. Born and raised. I meet all these phonies who moved there when they were 12, or somethin' stupid like that, not real New Yorkers." Then she started to sing that weird song from 42nd Street: "In the heart of Little Old New York, you'll find a thoroughfare! It's the part of Little Old New York, that runs into Times Square! A crazy quilt, that Wall Street Jack built! If you've got a little time to spare, I want to take you there! Come and meet, those dancing feet! On the avenue I'm taking you to!" Then she went into a rather bizarre little tap-dance, which mostly consisted of shuffle-step, shuffle-step.

Oy vay. Why me? WHY ME?!

"In case you've noticed, I can't dance, this is the extent of my tap-dancing knowledge" she said, noticing the amused look on my face. "So I do a LOT of shuffling." Then she looked at me. "Well? Are we just gonna stand here all day, or do you wanna get settled in and meet everyone? Come on!" And with that, she scooped up the bigger of my two suitcases, and headed through the giant oak front doors. "Welcome to Hell Academy!" she yelled over her shoulder. "You'll meet everyone later, but there's someone you don't wanna get excited (if ya know what I mean), be you gay, straight, bi, whatever. His name's Spot Conlon, and he does nothing to hide his sexuality at ALL, so just...watch out, 'K?"

"Um...OK" I replied, feeling slightly nervous. This can't be a good thing. "Why do you call it Hell Academy?"

"'Cause we're in Hell, Ohio, and...well, it's hell to be here, ya know? If you don't already, trust me. You will."

'Oh, joy. Oh, rapture' I thought sarcastically. Then she smiled at me.

"It takes a little getting used to, but once you do, you'll make friends like that!" She snapped her fingers. "Actually, the way it worked for me was I beat up the resident religious freak, Jack Kelly, and had him out cold for about three hours. After that..." She shrugged. "He kept his distance, preaching-wise, and I made a new friend."

"You beat up a religious nut?" I asked, laughing. "I thought God said..."

"Not to raise a hand against your brothers and sisters in Christ. God also said that pride and arrogance are sins, and to avoid them. So...we balanced each other out."

"Arrogance...?"

"When Jack kept preaching at me, he was using his faith as an excuse to lord over me, and make it look like he was better than I was. And that, according to God, is a sin."

"Oh."

"Yeppers. Well, this is the office" she said, stopping outside an all glass door, then knocking on it once. "Mr. Snyder, I've got the new student with me!" she yelled through the door.

"Send him in," came an ominous voice through the door. She nodded at me.

"Warden-I mean, Principal Snyder will get you your schedule and rooming assignment, and-"All of a sudden, there was a loud BANG BANG BANG, followed by running footsteps and five or six angry voices yelling, "SPOT YOU ASSHOLE!"

"Ah, yes, Crazy Conlon, as they've nicknamed him, strikes again. I'd better go see what he's up to. Snyder will take care of ya, just don't whatever you do, insult any of the war mementos, however dinky, in his office. See you in the Rec Room. It's on the 3rd floor; we'll all be there. And don't worry, he just set off a couple of M-80's in the bathroom, nothing too terrible." And with those none-too-reassuring parting words, she took off sprinting down the hall.

I shook my head and walked into Snyder's office.

What the HELL had I gotten myself into? (Heh heh, pun intended.)

END CHAPTER

Author's Note: Ow. I hurt. Band camp started Monday, and I've got super bad sunburn, and we're doing a lot of arm movement, 'cause our show's West Side Story, so...yeah...it's hell. Anyways, sorry for all the Bible stuff in there, I had to set up Jack's character a little bit, ya know? So...anyways, I need some people to be students, only 7 or 8, I should think. But if I go over, I'll use ya at least once. First come, first serve. Here's what I need:

Name and nickname, if ya have one:

History behind said nickname:

Appearance:

Personality:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Orientation:

Pairing preference (first come, first serve):

Any other misc. information you think is important:

Hope you like this, I don't really, but hey, I never like what I write (The exception being One Of Those Days). That's 'cause I wrote it! Anyways, if any of y'all know a good way to make sunburn hurt less, PLEASE let me know, as I will be all ears. I love all y'all, please humor me on this one, please read and review, but no flames, por favor. Flames are like...finding out Mr. Nielsen is adding another song to our show, and we have to learn more flag work! TOODLES!