/\Matt/\
The door flew open and an angry Mello stormed in, threw his books on the floor, and flopped down face first onto his bed. "Fucking Near! I hate that kid!" Mello almost growled. This was a familiar scene. Every three weeks when the test scores and rankings were posted, you could count on Mello to be as moody as a bitch on her period. He would either be ecstatic that he had finally beaten Near on some stupid assignment, or pissed off because the little bugger had beaten him again. It was more often the latter.
"What happened this time, Mels?" I asked, knowing I would have to listen to an exceedingly drawn out rant about how unfair the teachers were. I never understand how those two could get so worked up over something as stupid as schoolwork, and I tried my hardest to stay out of it.
Mello flipped over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. I was sure that his mind was only a string of expletives currently, and I was surprised when he sounded almost civil. "Near fucking aced his critical thinking/logic formula exams and I only got a 97%. Fucking Near." Mello sighed angrily. "How'd you do on your exams, Matty?" He didn't look at me.
"Uhh… I don't really know. There was a crowd around the board where they posted the grades and I didn't feel like waiting until everyone else in the school was done looking, so I just left straight after class." I didn't care what I got as long as they didn't kick me out, actually. But I wasn't going to say that in front of Mello when he was in a mood like this.
Mello looked at me like he knew that I didn't care if I'd even passed. I shot him grin and lit up a cigarette.
"Put out the cancer stick or open the window." Mello threatened.
In retaliation I leaned over and blew a puff of smoke in his face. "Let's go for a walk instead. We can fuck with Rogers and tell him that the west wing is on fire."
"Or better yet, actually set the west wing on fire."
I laughed. There was the Mello I was best friends with.
\/Mello\/
We didn't actually set the west wing on fire, though that wasn't from lack of trying. On my part, anyway. When it got down to it, Matty flat out refused to do anything really destructive. So we just hid Near's toys again. Did I mention how much I hate Near? Fucking Near.
Anyway, I think we just now got to the part where I had another fucking brilliant idea. We were running down the easternmost corridor, away from this ape of a boy named Travis. (Matty and I stole his clothes while he was in the shower.) And it hit me. Something that that bastard Near would never be able to win. Because it was a popularity contest, and that snowflake of a boy, Near, had the social skills of a post-it note. The Whammy's House was going to have a prom.