Love and Hate

Author: Adrienne Wolter (catsncritters)
Summary: The Spring Dance for Lucky Jr High falls on April first. While Carl and Hoodsey are determined to play a prank on Blake, Ginger mopes in her recent breakup with Darren.
Rating: PG
Warnings: SLASH, as in a male/male relationship. This is slashiness between Carl and Blake. Not your cup of tea? Press the back button!
Reviews: are appreciated, but not required. (Psst... but hey... more reviews would inspire me to continue more quickly... *flashes winning smile* Lemme know what you think, kay? I'm not the best ATBG writer out there, but I try.) :D

Hewlo! *Waves to readers* Not much to say about this one, just let me know what you think. : )

Chapter 1

The Spring Dance. This year, it fell on April first, a week later than usual. Carl was focused on this, and it was getting to Hoodsey's nerves.
"We have the opportunity to do pranks on the entire school," Carl told him again and again. "We only need to find the perfect prank, Hoods!"
"Carl," Hoodsey muttered, letting his head fall to the Foutley's table in frustration. "You know what would really surprise them?"
Carl looked up, clearly interested. "What?"
Hoodsey looked up at him with an annoyed expression. "If we didn't do anything for April Fools' Day."
"But what's the fun in that, my friend? Some of them might not even know what day it is during the dance!"
"So?"
Hoodsey had been trying to do math homework for the past twenty minutes, and had finished half of one problem.
Ginger and her friends walked through the kitchen, chattering about something. Carl watched Ginger getting their mom to sign the permission form out of the corner of his eye, staring offhandedly at his homework. Something about estimating the amount of food needed for a cage of monkeys.
Monkeys... food... he supposed he could put something in the punch, but it wasn't spectacular enough. Maybe he could play a prank on Ginger and her friends, or the teachers... or Blake. Yes. Blakey-boy. That would be fun to do.
Hoodsey eyed Macie as she went up the stairs, having forgotten about his homework again. Only Carl talking brought him out of this momentary period of head-in-the-clouds syndrome.
"We could do something to Blake," Carl said, staring at the calendar for inspiration. He wasn't finding any.
"Like what?" Hoodsey whined, glancing at the steps one last time before turning back to Carl.
"That's what I wanted you to tell me," Carl said, head dropping onto a hand as he considered doing his homework for the first time.

Carl and Hoodsey sat on Carl's bed and watched TV, still trying to figure out a good prank, having nothing else to do. Besides, in Carl's own words, the sooner they could think of a prank, the more time they'd have to work on it.
"I need to think of a good prank to play on Blake... something to embarrass him in front of all of Lucky Jr. High...."
Hoodsey stayed silent, watching the television.
"We need an idea, ugh. I wonder if he's actually going to the dance...."
"What, you're just going to walk up to him and ask, 'hey Blake, are you going to the dance on Tuesday?'"
Carl choked on his soda and glanced at his friend. "Um... no, I think I'll just watch him, see if he turns the permission slip in."
Hoodsey grinned at his quick response and nodded. "Yeah. But then you'll need to get a permission slip for yourself too, you know."
"Oh yeah. Well, I can do that tomorrow."
There was a loud yell from downstairs. "Hoodsey, your mother wants you home!"
"Seeya Carl." After the door was shut again, Carl lay back in his bed and looked at the patterns of plaster on the ceiling. It was definitely going to be hard figuring out if Blake was going to the dance or not. Hoods was right, too; it wasn't exactly as if he could just ask him casually. He wondered why he cared so much to be thinking about it when dinner was probably on the table.
"Any time now, Carl!"
He gave a short laugh at his correct guess and left his room.

April the first fell on a Friday this year.
The dance was announced eight days before it was scheduled to be held.
One day had passed, and they still had nothing.

Mrs. Smith passed out permission slips to people who wanted them before starting class. Carl and Hoodsey eyed Blake, while holding their hands in the air. He eventually raised his hand too.
"He's going," Carl said excitedly to Hoodsey out of the corner of his mouth. He was glancing at him again when the object of his focus looked straight at him, holding his head a little higher before looking away.
"That was weird..." Hoodsey said mildly, before being reprimanded by Mrs. Smith for talking in class.
"Seriously," Carl muttered, putting his hands together and giving Ms. Smith a smile as she glanced at the desk they shared.
"We don't know if he's going yet, do we though?"
"Rats." Carl sunk in his seat when Mrs. Smith's eyes landed on him.
"You two are a disruption in my classroom, and I can't stand it any longer! I'm going to need to separate you."
Carl groaned as he was assigned to be Blake's deskpartner. Too much Blake for one school day.
At least the period ended in twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes beside Blake.
Ugh.
Hoodsey propped his head in his hands at the desk he no longer shared with Carl, watching the clock.
Carl did much the same thing, feeling uncomfortable as he listened to the breathing of the boy beside him.

After what seemed like a silent eternity, the bell rang and Carl ripped out of the classroom, which caused him to have to be called back to be reprimanded again by Mrs. Smith. He glared at Blake for no particular reason when he was leaving the classroom, although it didn't do much since Blake was carefully avoiding his eye. Carl rolled his eyes and re-entered the classroom.
Mrs. Smith towered above Carl, who hadn't grown much since elementary school. All of the boys in his class were taller than he was, with the exception of Hoodsey and Blake. Her skirt went down to her rather large knees, and the ugly puce jacket she wore was over her shoulders, as always.
"Do you realize how dangerous it is to you and others when you tear out of the door like that?"
"Yes, ma'am," Carl recited dully, prepared for a lecture about the many dangers of running out a doorway.
"You could have knocked a desk over on the way out, or crashed into someone in here or out in the hall; you could have hit your head on the doorframe or stabbed yourself with a pencil if you were to fall. You could have...."
Carl tuned her out, nodding here and there.
"And, do you realize that I know you're not listening?"
He nodded absently and she purposely dropped her textbook on the floor in front of him, causing him to jump a foot into the air and pay attention. Mrs. Smith gave a rough smile.
"Look, I used to act like you do, and it got me absolutely nowhere. You are a good student, but if you want to make a future for yourself, you need to show it. Okay?"
Carl nodded, and left when Mrs. Smith waved him out.

Hoodsey was waiting for him in the hallway.
"What'd she say?"
"Something about getting nowhere from being like me. Whatever."
"Ahh," Hoodsey said, nodding, then watching Ginger, Dodie, and Macie leave the Science room, laughing nonstop about something Macie had said. Carl laughed as he noticed that Hoodsey had locked eyes with Macie for a second, and lost all grip on reality when she smiled at him. He figured his friend was probably bouncing off of pink and red hearts in laalaa land. For once he let him go at it, thinking about his ex-girlfriend Noelle Sussman. They'd been together right up until the moment she'd moved away again–apparently back to Portugal to live with her uncle–and hadn't written to him in the six months she'd been gone.
Since then, Macie and Hoodsey had gone to one or two dances together, not anonymously, which Dodie had been overjoyed at, informing them that if they ever got married, Macie and she would not only be best friends, but related.
Why couldn't Carl find a girlfriend then, if his best friend could?
Grumbling, he finally poked Hoodsey with his elbow. Now in a bad mood, he walked home with Hoodsey, not saying a word. Until–
"What's your problem?"
Carl looked over at his half-concerned, half-annoyed best friend and murmured about girls being stupid. Hoodsey just rolled his eyes and kept walking.

"But Mom," Ginger was whining when Carl moodily passed through the kitchen to get some popsicles to take back to the doghouse, "the dance is in a week, and I haven't got anything to wear!"
"You have plenty to wear, Ging," Mrs. Foutley replied in an equal whine, trying to make her daughter understand how annoying it was.
"But..."
"Hey, no buts. Why don't you dig that nice blue floral dress out of your closet and wear that? You haven't worn it in ages." She drained the water out of the spaghetti.
"I wore it to the Christmas dance, Mom, don't you remember?"
"I don't see what's wrong with wearing it again, you look really nice in it. Besides, who would remember what you wore to the winter ball? That was three months ago!"
Ginger, having no further angle of complaint, stomped off to her room. "Don't go too far, I'm almost done with dinner!" She rounded on Carl, noticing a trail of mud through the kitchen. "Carl! There's a doormat out there for a reason!"
"Sorry Momster," he replied, digging two popsicles out of the freezer. "Important meeting in the doghouse. I'll come back for dinner later."
"You will eat with the rest of your family!" She yelled after him, splatting the spaghetti on three plates. He'd already left the kitchen.

"Carl, can you remind me why we're still trying to figure this out? Why not just give up and surprise them with nothing, for once?"
"Because Blake deserves punishment," he said shortly, trying to balance his popsicle on one finger.
"For what?"
Carl took a moment to consider this question. In all honesty, he had no idea what Blake had done to deserve an April Fools' Day prank to embarrass him in front of the school.
But still....
"Who cares?"
"Carl," Hoodsey finally said, after thinking for a minute, "It's not Blake's fault that Noelle left, you know? Her uncle was sick. It's time to move on, you know? Don't put so much energy into hating people."
"I never said I hated Noelle...." Carl muttered. But I guess I felt it.
"I kind of meant Blake," Hoodsey said, putting down his popsicle stick, preparing for Carl to start ranting on about reasons why Blake sucked, or a snarl about knowing when to put a sock in it.
"Oh."
Hoodsey wondered if he should continue pursuing the topic he was on. He knew it would either make Carl angry or freak out.
"But you know, they kind of say hate and love are the same thing...."
Carl stared at him. "Who are you referring to...?"
"You decide," Hoodsey replied. There was a knock on the doghouse. Carl didn't respond, still staring at his best friend as if he'd grown an extra head.
"What're you...."
"Carl!"
Ginger's voice pierced the chalky atmosphere, and both boys nervously acknowledged their visitor.
"Hoodsey, your mom just called and she wants you back home now. Carl, Mom wants you to wash up for dinner."
"Seeya Carl," Hoodsey said shakily, before leaving. Carl left in the other direction, towards the kitchen door, following Ginger.

What was that supposed to mean?