The reviews have been quite wonderful. I do love hearing back from
everyone. Here's the next part, hope it works.
Warnings: illicit teenage activities, bit of language, my idea of humor.
Disclaimer: I won Naruto in a poker game. Then while I was celebrating, I was taken to a nice, padded room by very nice men in white coats.
Notes: Those who are disgruntled with the whole Sasuke and Sakura thing – don't be so worried. I got plans. And explanations. Not in this chapter, but later on. (puts on flak jacket and runs for cover).
--
Chapter 4
You ever notice that gossip travels faster than shit through a goose? Superman has nothing on the speed of gossip, hell, I think gossip goes faster than light. It's a force of nature, too, able to make or break you depending on the juiciness of it. I've seen it bring down the great ones from the top and raise unworthy ones to levels of respectability.
As for me, it was just annoying.
Now, high school has a few rules, some more sacred to teenagers than anything the bible spouts. One is that an unpopular cretin such as myself with no social standing and an awful lot of negatives on his record cannot and must not like anyone from the upper echelon (check out that SAT word, baby) of society. And through some mysterious force, the damned untrue gossip that I like Sakura had spread throughout the entire school and by Friday, I was getting talked about more than an episode of Survivor.
Granted, no one directly spoke to me, such is not nature of gossip. Everyone talked behind my back, sometimes in front of my face but still not to me. There was a bit of staring, a whole hell lot of laughing and in some instances, creative name calling.
All things I'm quite used to, so as I said, just annoying, not really all that new.
Except I so do not like the girl.
Not like I could deny it though. My best friend doesn't fucking believe me, what chance do I have with the rest of them? Though, I got to thinking, isn't that better than people knowing the truth? I'm getting grief for liking a popular girl. I think I'd lose more than face if they found out that I liked a popular boy. Actually, I think I'd be hunted like a rabbit, skinned, stuffed and mounted after a due amount of torture if they ever found out.
I shudder to think of it.
So, no wonder that after school on Friday, I had an undeniable urge to just get the hell off school grounds and do something stupid and fun. Thankfully, Gaara was right on track with me. Even if he can be an ass, he still has some good ideas that mesh with mine.
That's right, we're gonna be real bad boys and get drunk.
Of course, Iruka can't and will under no uncertain terms know about that. It is a true thing that many, many teenagers on weekends get blasted, wasted, bombed, what have you at some random kegger thrown at the house of some poor kid whose parents have taken a vacation or something. I've heard stories about cops, ugly break-ups with crying girls, various acts of criminal nature, et cetera that have taken place at such parties.
Notice I say I heard, since I've never been to a kegger. Not that you need an invitation card or something to go, but I swear, if I ever showed up, I'd get escorted off the premises by some beefy jock who has more gin in his system than common sense. So, for sake of self preservation, if I want to get drunk, I do it at Gaara's house with him.
Good thing his butler, Jacob or Jason or.. whatever his name is, buys whatever Gaara tells him to buy. On that note, also probably a good thing that Gaara and I only like the drinking instead of other drugs, or Jacob (whatever his name is) might have to hang out at crack town in his nifty looking penguin suit.
Now, that'd be funny.
So I told Iruka that I'd be spending the night at Gaara's, for which I got a bit of lecturing (he trusts me as far as he can throw me) about not doing anything bad. I told him that of course not, what could I possibly do with my best friend who's richer than a South American country?
Wrong thing to say, obviously, but my mouth has no connection to my brain. Iruka responded by telling me the many things I have already done and could do in the near future. I won't tell it to you, because the list was long. Very, very long.
Iruka has some imagination, which I'm sure I've inflamed with my past acts. Well, such is life with me. It's never, ever boring.
Safe to say, Gaara and I were fairly tipsy by the hour of seven. That's right, we don't freaking dawdle when we're contributing to our own delinquency. We were downing something from the clear liquor family, a vile tasting thing with ice because we're too lazy to throw in mixers. Hey, we're teenagers. We drink to get drunk, not for taste.
Of course, the whole time, Gaara's merciless about my supposed crush on Sakura. I know he told no one, he hardly speaks to anyone at all, so I asked him, how the hell did the entire school get to know about this?
"Duh, stupid," Gaara responded, his words only slightly slurred, "someone probably overheard you. You're loud, you know?"
"But I didn't say it!" Damn straight I didn't. I remember that scene rather clearly. "You said it and then Sasuke said it-"
"Hold up," he breaks in, his finger nearly poking my eye out in its mad waggling, "Sasuke said what?"
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention to Gaara that Sasuke spoke to me. Don't blame me, I'm still kind of hurt and shocked by the whole thing still. I mean, how would you feel if the guy you loved came up to you and accused of liking his girlfriend? See, something you wouldn't announce to anyone, even your best friend.
Although, through my alcohol glazed sense of humor, it's kind of funny. You know, in that Mexican soap opera kind of way. And, I suppose Gaara would want to know why the king of the school, Sasuke my secret crush, would talk to me. Voluntarily at that.
So, I tell Gaara of the encounter in the locker room (sounds like a movie, or at least, a soft core porn, right?) minus all my sex fantasies that had flashed through my mind like a Thanksgiving float parade and Gaara, the considerate shithead that he is, laughs at me until he falls over. Then he hiccoughs out that I'm damned lucky Sasuke didn't beat me up for it then he tells me I'm stupid. Again.
Is he really my best friend or what?
I can't be mad at him, not like he knows about my attraction to Sasuke, so definitely, he's not trying to hurt my feelings. I mean, if Gaara told me that he liked Sakura, I wouldn't hesitate from laughing him out of the county either. Well, that is, if I could even imagine Gaara liking anyone. I can't exactly imagine the type of girl (or boy, I might not be the only one) he'd go for. Certainly not one of the cheerleaders, he'd eat them for breakfast. Literally. Not one of the brainy ones, he hates people acting smarter than him. Or.. hell, anyone at school. He hates them all and they are all pretty much afraid of him.
Supposedly good for running a small, third world country, but not for finding love in high school.
Anyhow, after Gaara finished laughing, which took forever because he's a giggly drunk, we played more video games, drank more, and eventually, around eleven, Gaara passed out cold. I mean, I didn't even get a warning or anything. We were in the middle of watching some movie on DVD, then thunk, he fell over, off the couch and straight into the table. Face first.
I stared at him through my very, very bleary eyes for a long while, trying to figure out if I should wake him, move him or just fuck it all, then.. my insane brain soaked in alcohol came up with a brilliant idea. Actually, I won't blame my brain this time, I'll blame the little demon of trouble that lives deep within me.
Basically, I came up with an equation that seemed wonderfully funny. Best friend added by his passing out cold, multiply with magic markers with exponent Naruto. Got that? Because it all equals one thing: I, Uzumaki Naruto, who has no fear of death with fire water blazing through my veins, wielded magic markers of rainbow hues and drew all over Gaara's face.
And arms. Legs, too. Oh, hell, every section of exposed skin and then some.
Three things happened after I finished. One, I laughed. Really hard. Gaara with pink mustache, green stars and peace signs all over him, very funny. As drunk as I was, beyond hilarious. Okay, two, a cold realization of what I had done and to WHOM I'd done it to. A whole reel of my eventual, messy death at the hands of my enraged best friend played in my mind, nearly scaring me sober. Three, running. As in, bolting out of his house full speed, most likely screaming bloody murder (if Gaara had woken up, that's what it would have been), into the street and towards my house.
Or at least, I think it was towards my house. My sense of direction when sober is pretty fucked, but when drunk, I can't find my own ass. So, yeah, the running from Gaara's house was not the best thing to do. I mean, I live like five miles away, and it's not like I could call Iruka to pick me up.
So I do believe I meandered around Gaara's neighborhood in the middle of Friday night, trying to find my drunk way home. None of the street signs helped, it's not like I ever paid attention to them since I don't drive. I couldn't just ask for directions, it was the middle of the night in a ritzy neighborhood. No one was out. I'd be lucky if I didn't get spotted by the cops who liked to make lazy circles around rich suburbs. Man, that would not sit right with Iruka, I'd be grounded until the apocalypse if Iruka had to get me out of jail for loitering while drunk.
Somewhere away from Gaara's, nowhere near my place, around two in the morning, I finally gave in and decided that I was really damned lost. It was kind of cold, my drunk buzz was wearing thin and I was rather miserable. I mean, check out my misery laden week, really. The whole school, including my psychotic best friend, is convinced that I'm in love with Sakura. Everyone is talking about me, even people that I was pretty sure didn't even know about me. Sasuke said some things to me that still stick in my gut, my plans to be his friend seems to have gone down the shithole and now I'm lost, drunk and getting chilly. And in the morning, or whenever Gaara finds me, he is going to teach me the true meaning of the word 'dismemberment.'
I was definitely not in the best of moods, as you can understand, nor was I necessarily paying attention to anything around me. It was two in the morning, why should I look both ways before crossing the road? Hell, why should I even use the sidewalk? For I didn't do any of that, and combined with my alcohol buzz and the whole thinking deeply about my life, it's no wonder I didn't see that stupid car coming or that I stood there kind of like deer in headlights.
Did I get hit? Couldn't say. Did the car swerve just in time to avoid making Naruto pancake? Don't really know.
Because about then, the alcohol, sleepiness and shock all mixed in an interesting cocktail and I passed out. I won't say fainted, what kind of a guy faints, for god's sake, but I definitely fizzed out of reality and into a happy dreamland.
Why do I say dreamland? Because I saw Sasuke's beautiful face, wreathed in a golden light, looking down at me, asking me if I was okay.
Damned good dream, if I do say so myself, worth getting run over.
--
TBC
--
Warnings: illicit teenage activities, bit of language, my idea of humor.
Disclaimer: I won Naruto in a poker game. Then while I was celebrating, I was taken to a nice, padded room by very nice men in white coats.
Notes: Those who are disgruntled with the whole Sasuke and Sakura thing – don't be so worried. I got plans. And explanations. Not in this chapter, but later on. (puts on flak jacket and runs for cover).
--
Chapter 4
You ever notice that gossip travels faster than shit through a goose? Superman has nothing on the speed of gossip, hell, I think gossip goes faster than light. It's a force of nature, too, able to make or break you depending on the juiciness of it. I've seen it bring down the great ones from the top and raise unworthy ones to levels of respectability.
As for me, it was just annoying.
Now, high school has a few rules, some more sacred to teenagers than anything the bible spouts. One is that an unpopular cretin such as myself with no social standing and an awful lot of negatives on his record cannot and must not like anyone from the upper echelon (check out that SAT word, baby) of society. And through some mysterious force, the damned untrue gossip that I like Sakura had spread throughout the entire school and by Friday, I was getting talked about more than an episode of Survivor.
Granted, no one directly spoke to me, such is not nature of gossip. Everyone talked behind my back, sometimes in front of my face but still not to me. There was a bit of staring, a whole hell lot of laughing and in some instances, creative name calling.
All things I'm quite used to, so as I said, just annoying, not really all that new.
Except I so do not like the girl.
Not like I could deny it though. My best friend doesn't fucking believe me, what chance do I have with the rest of them? Though, I got to thinking, isn't that better than people knowing the truth? I'm getting grief for liking a popular girl. I think I'd lose more than face if they found out that I liked a popular boy. Actually, I think I'd be hunted like a rabbit, skinned, stuffed and mounted after a due amount of torture if they ever found out.
I shudder to think of it.
So, no wonder that after school on Friday, I had an undeniable urge to just get the hell off school grounds and do something stupid and fun. Thankfully, Gaara was right on track with me. Even if he can be an ass, he still has some good ideas that mesh with mine.
That's right, we're gonna be real bad boys and get drunk.
Of course, Iruka can't and will under no uncertain terms know about that. It is a true thing that many, many teenagers on weekends get blasted, wasted, bombed, what have you at some random kegger thrown at the house of some poor kid whose parents have taken a vacation or something. I've heard stories about cops, ugly break-ups with crying girls, various acts of criminal nature, et cetera that have taken place at such parties.
Notice I say I heard, since I've never been to a kegger. Not that you need an invitation card or something to go, but I swear, if I ever showed up, I'd get escorted off the premises by some beefy jock who has more gin in his system than common sense. So, for sake of self preservation, if I want to get drunk, I do it at Gaara's house with him.
Good thing his butler, Jacob or Jason or.. whatever his name is, buys whatever Gaara tells him to buy. On that note, also probably a good thing that Gaara and I only like the drinking instead of other drugs, or Jacob (whatever his name is) might have to hang out at crack town in his nifty looking penguin suit.
Now, that'd be funny.
So I told Iruka that I'd be spending the night at Gaara's, for which I got a bit of lecturing (he trusts me as far as he can throw me) about not doing anything bad. I told him that of course not, what could I possibly do with my best friend who's richer than a South American country?
Wrong thing to say, obviously, but my mouth has no connection to my brain. Iruka responded by telling me the many things I have already done and could do in the near future. I won't tell it to you, because the list was long. Very, very long.
Iruka has some imagination, which I'm sure I've inflamed with my past acts. Well, such is life with me. It's never, ever boring.
Safe to say, Gaara and I were fairly tipsy by the hour of seven. That's right, we don't freaking dawdle when we're contributing to our own delinquency. We were downing something from the clear liquor family, a vile tasting thing with ice because we're too lazy to throw in mixers. Hey, we're teenagers. We drink to get drunk, not for taste.
Of course, the whole time, Gaara's merciless about my supposed crush on Sakura. I know he told no one, he hardly speaks to anyone at all, so I asked him, how the hell did the entire school get to know about this?
"Duh, stupid," Gaara responded, his words only slightly slurred, "someone probably overheard you. You're loud, you know?"
"But I didn't say it!" Damn straight I didn't. I remember that scene rather clearly. "You said it and then Sasuke said it-"
"Hold up," he breaks in, his finger nearly poking my eye out in its mad waggling, "Sasuke said what?"
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention to Gaara that Sasuke spoke to me. Don't blame me, I'm still kind of hurt and shocked by the whole thing still. I mean, how would you feel if the guy you loved came up to you and accused of liking his girlfriend? See, something you wouldn't announce to anyone, even your best friend.
Although, through my alcohol glazed sense of humor, it's kind of funny. You know, in that Mexican soap opera kind of way. And, I suppose Gaara would want to know why the king of the school, Sasuke my secret crush, would talk to me. Voluntarily at that.
So, I tell Gaara of the encounter in the locker room (sounds like a movie, or at least, a soft core porn, right?) minus all my sex fantasies that had flashed through my mind like a Thanksgiving float parade and Gaara, the considerate shithead that he is, laughs at me until he falls over. Then he hiccoughs out that I'm damned lucky Sasuke didn't beat me up for it then he tells me I'm stupid. Again.
Is he really my best friend or what?
I can't be mad at him, not like he knows about my attraction to Sasuke, so definitely, he's not trying to hurt my feelings. I mean, if Gaara told me that he liked Sakura, I wouldn't hesitate from laughing him out of the county either. Well, that is, if I could even imagine Gaara liking anyone. I can't exactly imagine the type of girl (or boy, I might not be the only one) he'd go for. Certainly not one of the cheerleaders, he'd eat them for breakfast. Literally. Not one of the brainy ones, he hates people acting smarter than him. Or.. hell, anyone at school. He hates them all and they are all pretty much afraid of him.
Supposedly good for running a small, third world country, but not for finding love in high school.
Anyhow, after Gaara finished laughing, which took forever because he's a giggly drunk, we played more video games, drank more, and eventually, around eleven, Gaara passed out cold. I mean, I didn't even get a warning or anything. We were in the middle of watching some movie on DVD, then thunk, he fell over, off the couch and straight into the table. Face first.
I stared at him through my very, very bleary eyes for a long while, trying to figure out if I should wake him, move him or just fuck it all, then.. my insane brain soaked in alcohol came up with a brilliant idea. Actually, I won't blame my brain this time, I'll blame the little demon of trouble that lives deep within me.
Basically, I came up with an equation that seemed wonderfully funny. Best friend added by his passing out cold, multiply with magic markers with exponent Naruto. Got that? Because it all equals one thing: I, Uzumaki Naruto, who has no fear of death with fire water blazing through my veins, wielded magic markers of rainbow hues and drew all over Gaara's face.
And arms. Legs, too. Oh, hell, every section of exposed skin and then some.
Three things happened after I finished. One, I laughed. Really hard. Gaara with pink mustache, green stars and peace signs all over him, very funny. As drunk as I was, beyond hilarious. Okay, two, a cold realization of what I had done and to WHOM I'd done it to. A whole reel of my eventual, messy death at the hands of my enraged best friend played in my mind, nearly scaring me sober. Three, running. As in, bolting out of his house full speed, most likely screaming bloody murder (if Gaara had woken up, that's what it would have been), into the street and towards my house.
Or at least, I think it was towards my house. My sense of direction when sober is pretty fucked, but when drunk, I can't find my own ass. So, yeah, the running from Gaara's house was not the best thing to do. I mean, I live like five miles away, and it's not like I could call Iruka to pick me up.
So I do believe I meandered around Gaara's neighborhood in the middle of Friday night, trying to find my drunk way home. None of the street signs helped, it's not like I ever paid attention to them since I don't drive. I couldn't just ask for directions, it was the middle of the night in a ritzy neighborhood. No one was out. I'd be lucky if I didn't get spotted by the cops who liked to make lazy circles around rich suburbs. Man, that would not sit right with Iruka, I'd be grounded until the apocalypse if Iruka had to get me out of jail for loitering while drunk.
Somewhere away from Gaara's, nowhere near my place, around two in the morning, I finally gave in and decided that I was really damned lost. It was kind of cold, my drunk buzz was wearing thin and I was rather miserable. I mean, check out my misery laden week, really. The whole school, including my psychotic best friend, is convinced that I'm in love with Sakura. Everyone is talking about me, even people that I was pretty sure didn't even know about me. Sasuke said some things to me that still stick in my gut, my plans to be his friend seems to have gone down the shithole and now I'm lost, drunk and getting chilly. And in the morning, or whenever Gaara finds me, he is going to teach me the true meaning of the word 'dismemberment.'
I was definitely not in the best of moods, as you can understand, nor was I necessarily paying attention to anything around me. It was two in the morning, why should I look both ways before crossing the road? Hell, why should I even use the sidewalk? For I didn't do any of that, and combined with my alcohol buzz and the whole thinking deeply about my life, it's no wonder I didn't see that stupid car coming or that I stood there kind of like deer in headlights.
Did I get hit? Couldn't say. Did the car swerve just in time to avoid making Naruto pancake? Don't really know.
Because about then, the alcohol, sleepiness and shock all mixed in an interesting cocktail and I passed out. I won't say fainted, what kind of a guy faints, for god's sake, but I definitely fizzed out of reality and into a happy dreamland.
Why do I say dreamland? Because I saw Sasuke's beautiful face, wreathed in a golden light, looking down at me, asking me if I was okay.
Damned good dream, if I do say so myself, worth getting run over.
--
TBC
--
