A/N: Enjoy!
Chapter Four: Monday, Monday (pt. 2)
Andy stepped out of the shower for the second time that day and made his way across the room to the locker where his clean clothes waited for him. He settled onto the bench and sighed. Practice was tough and his mind hadn't been in it. His coach had noticed, but didn't say anything, only shook his head and muttered under his breath, disgusted.
Let him be. I don't care. But the truth was, he did care. More than he liked to admit. He was proud of his skills and his strength, proud that his coach saw him as a leader and a winner. He wanted to succeed for his coach and for his team and for his dad. He just didn't know if he cared enough to succeed for himself.
He dressed quickly and had just finished tying his shoelaces when the lunch bell rang. Making a quick stop at his locker, Andy picked up his lunch and started walking towards the cafeteria.
"Hey, Andy!"
Andy turned and waited for his best friend John to join him. John was a fellow wrestler, but had always been more interested in girls and beer than earning medals. Not that any of the girls minded. He was something of a heartthrob at Shermer High School.
"Hey, man. How's it goin'?"
"Excellent. Susan just told me that her parents are going out to dinner tonight, so we have the house all to ourselves!"
Andy rolled his eyes as they walked into the cafeteria and found seats at their usual table. He started unpacking his lunch, spreading his sandwiches and bags of chips onto the table in front of him. John picked up one of the sandwiches and squinted at its contents. "Is that sauerkraut?"
"No." Andy grabbed the sandwich from his friend and replaced it on the table. "It's tuna. It doesn't look anything like sauerkraut, you idiot."
John shrugged and popped a potato chip into his mouth. "Where were you the other night? I tried to find you when we were leaving, but no one had seen you."
"I left early."
"'Cause of your dad? Man, it's not like one beer is gonna screw your chances at state."
Andy took a bite of his ham sandwich and chewed slowly, considering his words. "No, not because of him. I just didn't feel like staying."
"Well, you totally missed out. Brad was makin' out with Lisa Fuller when Josie came in and caught 'em." John shook his head and smiled. "She totally reamed him out, man."
Andy laughed. "Gossip hound. You're worse than a girl."
John opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a crashing sound a few yards away. Andy looked up to see Stubby and a couple of guys from the wrestling team bent over laughing. Students from nearby tables craned their necks to see who they were picking on today. Andy gripped the table as a feeling of dread washed over him.
"Uh, excuse me, fellas. I think we should just eat our lunches. My table isn't even, I mean, it's over in the corner over there and, um, my friends, you know, my friends are waiting for me. So, I'm just going to-"
Stubby laughed and grabbed a lunch bag from his victim. Andy closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. When he looked back up, he had a clear view of the action and Stubby's plaything of the day.
Brian.
Brian's day just wasn't getting any better.
First of all, his mother was still angry about his detention. She had complained all the way to school that morning, making it clear that she would tolerate no more of this nonsense. You've got your future to think about, Brian. Don't mess this up. At this rate, he probably shouldn't expect her to forgive him before graduation.
Brian managed to shake her words off by the time first period began. He and David were in the same American History class with Mr. Morgan. Brian wanted to talk with him about that afternoon's Physics Club meeting, but David showed up just as the bell rang, so he didn't get a chance. Afterward, he pulled David into the hallway and out of the way of students hurrying to their next class. "So, what's the plan?"
David pushed his glasses up on his nose. "We've already talked to Mr. Waverly and he has everything worked out."
Brian let his heavy backpack slide off of his shoulder. "Oh, okay."
"What?"
"Nothing. I was just hoping to be more involved, you know?"
"It's just one meeting. We knew you were worried about your Calculus test and didn't want to make you give up study time."
"Larry told you I was worried about Calculus?"
"Yeah. Why are you anyway?"
Brian sighed. "I'm just, uh, worried about this shop class I'm in, you know? It's harder than it looks and there's this lamp I was supposed to make. An elephant. When you pull the trunk, the light is supposed to go on and mine didn't go on and, you know, it's harder than it looks. I mean-"
"Electricity is nothing but physics, Brian."
"Well, yeah, but lamps are, like, light, you know?"
David narrowed his eyes in confusion. "You know physics like the back of your hand. We talk about this stuff all the time in the Physics Club. Why are you stressing about this?"
"In the Physics Club, we just talk about physics. Shop is like applied physics. Much harder." He swallowed, then sighed. "It's just a lot of pressure, you know? All this school work? I'm getting a little tired of it."
David was watching him very closely. "Are you feeling okay, Brian? Are you sick or something?"
"No, I'm fine. I mean, my allergies are acting up a little bit and I was out in the cold last night right after I showered, so my hair was wet and stuff, but-"
The bell cut him off before he could finish his sentence. David shifted his backpack and gave him a sympathetic, if confused, smile. "I've got to go. I'll see you at lunch, okay?"
Brian nodded and watched him take off down the hall. He picked up his own backpack, which was loaded down with textbooks and recreational reading, and made his way to Calculus.
By the time lunch rolled around, he was tired and hungry. He retrieved his lunch from his locker and walked into the cafeteria. Larry and David were already at their table eating. As Brian snaked through the clumps of people, he was suddenly jerked backwards by the strap of his backpack. He lost his balance, crashing into an empty table. His lunch sack dropped from his hands, spilling its contents onto the linoleum floor. He took a deep breath to collect himself before turning around to face his tormentors.
Stuart Borkowski, a wrestler, was laughing hysterically at the sight of Brian sprawled out on the seat in front of him. A couple of his friends were practically doubled over, hands clutching their stomachs as if in pain. Brian reached over and picked up his torn sack, then began collecting the pieces of his lunch. As he bent forward to take his soup canteen, which had rolled under the table across the aisle, Stuart grabbed him by the back of his shirt and hauled him to his feet.
Brian lifted his hands in surrender. "Uh, excuse me, fellas. I think we should just eat our lunches. My table isn't even, I mean, it's over in the corner over there and, um, my friends, you know, my friends are waiting for me. So, I'm just going to-"
Stubby laughed and grabbed the bag from Brian's hand. He took out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, sniffed it, then passed it along to one of his friends. He rummaged further and fished out a bag of carrot sticks, then wrinkled his nose and passed them along as well.
"Man, you don't got nothing' else in here?"
Brian swallowed nervously. "Well, there's my soup on the ground over there. Tomato. My mom made it. She's a real health nut, you know, and she doesn't like me eating cookies and, and, like desserts and stuff. So…" He trailed off when Stuart grabbed him by his collar and pushed back onto the bench.
"Yeah, thanks for nothing', loser." He snarled and turned back to his friends, who were still laughing as they pressed carrot sticks onto both sides of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Stuart told them to grow up and they reluctantly tossed their creation onto a table where other wrestlers were eating as they took in the show. One of them groaned and flung it over his shoulder. The sandwich landed on the cafeteria floor with a splat.
Brian sighed and looked at the table, knowing he didn't have the guts, or maybe stupidity, to say anything. None of the jocks were paying any attention to him, except one. Andy was staring at him silently, not moving. His eyes locked onto Brian's and his jaw shifted uncomfortably. Brian snorted and shook his head, then bent down to pick up his soup.
He didn't bother to tell Larry and David where he was going; he couldn't face them after a scene like that. Instead, he left the cafeteria and headed straight for the boy's bathroom, where he sat on the toilet in the furthest stall and locked the door.
Brian's fingers trembled as he unscrewed the lid to his soup. His stomach turned as he focused on the thick red liquid. He didn't even like tomato soup. He recovered the container and put it on top of his back pack, then leaned back against the wall. He didn't know how long he sat like that, with a pipe grinding against the small of his back and his legs tingling from falling asleep. He didn't even know when the tears started to fall, but when they did, he didn't bother to brush them away.
