Triple Threat
6. So Just Call On Me Brother, When You Need a Hand

On Tuesday morning, Gill woke up with a splitting headache and a throat that felt as though it had been sandpapered during the night. The sound of his coughing brought his father running into the room half-dressed, with his shirt unbuttoned and his tie flopping about his shoulders. "Gill?" Hamilton said worriedly. "Are you alright?"

Gill was unable to draw breath to answer. Bent almost double and hacking as though he was going to cough up a lung, he felt his father's hand on his forehead. Hamilton drew back almost immediately. "You're burning up!" he cried – a tad melodramatically for Gill's tastes.

"Must've…caught…something," Gill managed to gasp out. His vision was blurred with involuntary tears that all the coughing had squeezed out, and his head pounded sickeningly. Hamilton fluttered about like a worried mother hen.

"Should I call the school and let them know you'll be absent?" he said worriedly. Gill nodded silently in response, focusing on catching his breath, and Hamilton left the room in a flurry of movement. Gill flopped back onto the pillows, inwardly fuming. He hated getting sick. It always meant a ton of makeup work, and if there was one thing Gill hated more than anything, it was being behind schedule. Plus, a lack of leadership would mean discontent Student Government members, and with the prom committee beginning their meetings now…The very thought made his headache intensify exponentially, and Gill forced himself to calm down before his rising blood pressure made his head explode.

Hopefully Beth will be able to handle the committee, he thought tiredly to himself, then swore inwardly. Beth. He was supposed to be meeting her that morning to carpool to school, not to mention that they'd planned another Calculus study session that afternoon. Dammit. Stifling a cough in one hand, he reached for his cell phone on the bedside table.

Though he hated texting as a rule, Gill knew that his voice was in no condition for him to hold even a short conversation. So suppressing his distaste, he texted a short message to Beth, explaining his illness and apologizing for having to cancel their study session. He hesitated, then slowly added that if she wanted to cancel the prom committee meeting that day, she could.

Then he scowled and erased the last part of the message. What was he trying to do, sabotage the girl? The seniors on the prom committee were already distrustful of a junior's ability to lead them – having her cancel a meeting just because the student body president wasn't there to back her up would only make her seem weak.

Don't be ridiculous, he told himself, sending the message off and hoping Beth would see it before she set off for school. Beth is perfectly capable of handling herself when she has to. She doesn't need you to protect her.

The phone buzzed in his hand, and Gill answered automatically. He was seized with a fit of coughing as soon as he pressed the "answer" button, however, and nearly a minute passed before he could speak. "H-Hello?"

"Gill? It's Beth. You sound terrible."

The comment brought a smile to his lips in spite of the sickening throb inside his skull, and Gill cleared his throat briefly before answering. "I think I may be sick."

"Yeah, I know. I got your message. Don't worry about the study thing – I'll figure something else out."

"What about the prom committee?" Gill rasped out before he could stop himself. I thought we went over this already, he berated himself exasperatedly.

"What about it?" Beth sounded confused. "We're still going to have the meeting. Unless you want me to cancel it…?"

He coughed – his throat felt unimaginably parched and dry. "No…just go ahead with it."

"I'll take notes and let you know what went on, if you want."

"You…don't have to," Gill said hoarsely.

Beth's voice took on a teasing tone. "You trust my judgment that much?"

"Yes," Gill replied honestly, surprising both of them. This fever must be affecting me more than I thought, he thought hazily, vision blurring a little. Beth seemed to sense his discomfort.

"Well, I should leave you alone, I guess. I'll call you later, to see if you're up to going to school tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure."

"Alright then. Get some rest and feel better. Bye!"

"Goodbye," Gill said, and hung up. He set the phone down slowly and leaned back, allowing his eyes to drift shut.

See, she can handle herself, that smug, self-righteous voice in his head said, just before he fell asleep.


"What were you talking about Mr. Zhang about?"

Beth shuffled the small stack of papers in her hands and tucked the whole thing into her backpack. "I was asking him for an extra copy of the homework packet," she explained. "For Gill. He's absent today."

"I hadn't noticed," Chase said nonchalantly. "Sick?" He followed Beth as she made her way down the hall towards her locker.

"Some kind of cold, I think. He sounded really terrible on the phone."

"You called him?"

"He texted me," Beth said absently, opening her locker. "I just wanted to make sure he was okay."

Chase rolled his eyes. "And, lemme guess, he made you pick up his work?"

Beth graced him with a slightly annoyed look. "No," she replied with emphasis, slamming her locker door. "I'm just doing it as a favor. You know, for a friend."

"Uh-huh."

"I'd do the same for you, geez."

"I'm not sure how I feel about the Führer getting the same treatment as me…"

"Oh, shut up. Hey, Gill's in your Art class, right?"

Silence.

"Chase?"

"I thought I was supposed to shut up."

Beth smacked his arm, but she was smiling. "Oh, you know what I mean."

"No, I don't. I have no idea," Chase said innocently. "And before you ask, I'm not picking up the Führer's homework for him. He can handle his late work on his own, the way normal people do. You know, people who don't have their own personal secretaries?" He raised his eyebrows at Beth, who sighed.

"Oh, come on, Chase."

"No."

"Do it for me?"

"Uh-uh."

"But don't you care about me?"

"What makes you think that's going to make me change my mind?"

Beth rolled her eyes. "I'll just go to Ms. Saunders and ask her myself, then. Thanks for making me do all that extra work."

"You're welcome," Chase retorted, then rolled his eyes at the look that she gave him. "Oh, stop it, I was being sarcastic. Fine, but I expect compensation."

"Don't say anything about sexual favors," Beth said warningly.

"I wasn't going to," Chase replied, even though one had been right on the tip of his tongue. "Geez, Beth, you have the dirtiest mind."


"So, thanks to you, I'm stuck with the Führer as my partner for our final project."

Beth looked up from her copy of Their Eyes Were Watching God, her eyes unfocused and expression slightly dazed. "Wha?" she questioned, mind still elsewhere. Chase huffed and flopped down into the seat in front of her, crossing his arms.

"I asked Saunders before class whether we had any assignments due, and she said that we were getting assigned our final project, and then she put me down as being the Führer's partner, because I was going to fill him in on the project anyway!" He threw his hands in the air with a disgusted expression on his face. "Now she thinks we're actually friends or something. I'm never being a good Samaritan again. It sucks."

"It gets you good karma points," Beth said, hiding a smile. Chase scowled.

"Screw karma. I'd rather be reborn as a cockroach than have to deal with the Führer. At least I'd live through the apocalypse."

"I'm sure it won't be that bad," Beth said reasonably. "At least Gill doesn't slack off. What's the project on?"

"Portraits," Chase groaned. "We're supposed to do a series of portraits of each other. Each of the portraits is supposed to show some aspect of the other person's personality or background." He ran his fingers through his hair, making the strawberry-blond strands stand up wildly. Beth blinked at him.

"That's…kind of a personal project," she commented hesitantly.

"Yeah, well, Saunders is into 'friendship' and 'togetherness' and 'challenging personal boundaries' and all that hippie crap." Chase waved a hand dismissively. "Thanks, Beth. Now I'm going to be stuck painting the Führer's face for the rest of the semester."

"That's quite a long time."

"You have to do at least five paintings, and they can't be small. Saunders wants us to all 'get to know each other' during the project." He rolled his eyes. "Give me a two-hour test any day. This is way too touchy-feely for me."

"I think it's kind of nice."

"You would. If you like it so much, why don't you just do the project for me?"

Beth laughed. "No way. You've seen my art."

"If you can even call it that."

"Well, thanks for asking Ms. Saunders anyway," Beth said sincerely, reaching out to pat Chase's hand with a smile. "I owe you."

"I expect compensation – "

"Yes, you've said already. And don't – "

"Say anything about sexual favors? Who's repeating themselves now?"

Beth shook her head, smiling in a resigned sort of way. "You," she said, pointing at him with the book, "are absolutely hopeless."

"Get that thing away from me. I hate that book."

"Why? It's a classic of African-American, feminist literature."

"I'm not an African-American feminist. I'm not even female. Therefore, I don't care."

"That's not exactly what I meant…"

"A woman gets married to a bunch of different men. The end. See? Nothing to appreciate."

"Yes, there is. You're not looking into the deeper meaning. It's a story depicting the state of racism and sexism at the time. There is so much symbolism in this whole book, I can't believe you don't see it – "

Chase knew the warning signs – widened eyes, flushed cheeks, freely gesticulating hands – that meant that Beth was gearing up for one of her "Why Literature is Important" speeches. "The whole point of the novel is to show that a woman can be independent and happy without a man – "

He interrupted before she could get too far into it. "Yeah, especially with the invention of 'toys,'" Chase said, raising his eyebrows. Beth got the innuendo and flushed red.

"Chase!"

"Hey, I'm just saying – in a few years, women probably won't even need men anymore. All they'll need is that little bit of battery-powered plastic, and – "

Beth hit him with Their Eyes Were Watching God. "You're disgusting," she muttered, still blushing. "I cannot believe you."

The bell rang, and their English teacher stood to begin that day's lesson. Chase turned around, prepared to at least pretend to listen to Mr. DuPont's lecture on symbolism in Their Eyes Were Watching God. It wasn't as though he had to pay attention – Beth was always happy to ramble on about symbols and motifs and themes, and if she wasn't around…well, that was what SparkNotes was for.

"Really, though," Chase murmured to Beth as DuPont fiddled around with the overhead projector, cursing fluently under his breath when he discovered the bulb had blown. "Think you can be happy without a man in your life?"

"I've done pretty well up until now."

Chase feigned ignorance. "There have too been men in your life. Your dad, your brother, me, the Führer – though I dunno if you can count him as a man…"

"Chase." Beth's voice was exasperated. "You know what I mean. Anyone can be happy without a significant other in their lives. Romantic involvement is a choice, not a requirement. Those who choose to risk it can achieve great happiness, or they can be badly hurt. But either way, they can always be happy without another person to hold them up. It's all in the mindset – "

"Ahem." Mr. DuPont's cough interrupted Beth's rant. The teacher had apparently fixed the overhead projector and was now leaning over it to look at them, the glow from the bulb casting eerie shadows on his face. "If Mr. Moretti and Ms. O'Keefe are finished with their little gossiping session," he said drily, "we can begin our discussion."

Beth, mortified, squeaked an apology and immediately withdrew back into her seat. Chase merely rolled his eyes and reached for his book.

Too bad he made her shut up, he thought, as DuPont began his lecture. She's more interesting than he is, ninety percent of the time.


The sound of the doorbell ringing startled Gill out of his lightly dozing state and into wakefulness. Rubbing a hand over his tired eyes, he squinted at the clock on his bedside table. 8:11 PM. He heard his father answer the door, but the ensuing conversation wasn't loud enough to hear from Gill's bedroom. Probably someone from work, Gill thought wearily. I hope they don't stay over.

Gill sat up slowly, trying not to aggravate his still-lingering headache. He felt far better than he had that morning – the soreness in his throat had abated slightly, at least, and his head no longer felt like it was going to explode from the slightest move – so that meant that the medication was doing its work. Gill wasn't too surprised. His sicknesses were usually like this – alarming at their onset, but quick to retreat after some medicine and proper bed rest. It was likely that he would be able to go back to school in a day or two. Good. He didn't like to think of how much make up work he'd have to do upon his return.

He heard the door close, followed by Hamilton's heavy footsteps on the stairs. "Gill?" His father's head appeared around the door. "Ah, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Better than before," Gill said, voice still slightly raspy. "Who was at the door?"

"Oh, a classmate of yours. She brought by the work you missed today." Hamilton placed a small pile of papers on Gill's desk and sat in his chair, turning to face his son.

Gill's brow furrowed. He already thought he knew who the benefactor was, but he had to ask anyway. "Did you get her name?"

"Her name's Beth. Really sweet girl, very friendly, very polite. Did you know she lives next door to us?"

Gill fought the urge to slap his forehead in exasperation. "I've known for years, Father," he said. "I carpool to school with her."

Hamilton nodded happily, unfazed by this revelation. "Well, she's invited us over for dinner with her family on Saturday night, if you're feeling better by then. She was quite surprised that you hadn't told me yet, actually!" Hamilton winked. "Gill, have you been keeping secrets from your father?"

"She mentioned something about dinner yesterday, but nothing was confirmed yet," Gill said, trying to keep his tone level. There was a weird tone in his father's voice that he did not like at all.

"Why did you never tell me you were friends with such a nice girl? Inviting us over for dinner, picking up your work for you…" Hamilton suddenly frowned. "You didn't ask her to pick up your work, did you?"

"No," Gill sighed. "I never asked her to do it. I don't know why she did."

"Well! That's all right then." Hamilton leaned over to pat Gill's leg under the covers. "A really nice girl," he repeated again, as though Gill had not heard him before. "Get better soon! I really look forward to having dinner with them this Friday."

"Saturday."

"Yes, Saturday! Isn't that what I said?"

Gill shook his head inwardly, knowing better than to argue with his often-absentminded father. How the man had managed to become Superintendent was beyond him.

After Hamilton left to go fix dinner, Gill picked up his cell phone and dialed Beth's number. She picked up after two rings. "Hello?"

"Hi, Beth. It's Gill."

"Oh, hey! How are you feeling?"

"Better than before, thank you."

Beth laughed a little. "You certainly sound better. Hey, I hope I didn't wake you up when I came by earlier. Your dad said you were sleeping."

He had been sleeping, but Gill found himself lying anyway. "It's fine. I was about to wake up anyway."

"Did you get the homework?"

"I did. Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"Oh, it was no big deal. I know how much you hate late work and everything, so I figured I'd just pick it up for you so that you could work on it while you're stuck at home. I have a lot of the same classes as you anyway, and you just live next door – how hard could it be?"

Gill had to smile a little at this. "And when is all of this due?"

"Well, the U.S. History packet is due next Monday, and you know we have a Calculus test this Friday – but Mr. Pascal said that you can make it up later if you aren't back by then. The bio lab we did in class and is due tomorrow, but I talked to Mrs. Mortimer and she said that you should talk to her when you get back and the two of you can figure out how you can make it up. And…for your Art final project, the due date's on the top of the page – I can't remember it off the top of my head – and your partner's Chase Moretti. He's actually the one who picked up the packet for you, so…I can't really take credit for that one."

Gill massaged his temples. This onslaught of information was a bit to take in all at once. "You…didn't have to talk to all the teachers for me," was all he could say.

"It's all right – it only took a minute or two each. And they like it if you're up to speed as soon as you get back, so I figured it wouldn't hurt."

"You don't have to do that next time."

"It's no trouble, seriously. And don't argue with me about it – I mean, how are you going to stop me, seeing as how you're sick?"

Gill shook his head, but he was smiling. "I suppose there's no deterring you," he sighed, and changed the subject. "How was the prom committee meaning?"

"It went okay. I mean, there were some arguments about what kind of a theme we should have this year, but I think we worked out a pretty good compromise. I put a copy of my notes in the stuff I gave to your dad – you can take a look if you want."

"Maybe later."

"All right, then. Oh, I talked to your dad about dinner on Saturday when I came by earlier. He seemed pretty excited about it…but did you forget to tell him or something?"

"We hadn't finalized the plans as of yesterday. I didn't think there was anything to say."

"Oh. Guess that's my bad, then. Well, think you'll be better by then?"

"I suppose."

"Great! Then I'll be able to pay you back for all that Calculus tutoring, and your dad can meet my parents. Cool."

A thought struck him as she mentioned the tutoring. "Did you find someone else to help you with Calculus?"

"Oh, it's no big deal – I went in after school and asked Mr. Pascal a few questions. If I still need help, I'll just get Chase to help me or something, even though we'll probably just get sidetracked, like we always do…"

"Well…good luck with your studying."

"You too, even though you don't need it." There was a muffled shout in the background, and Beth lowered the phone to call, "I'll be right there!" in response. "That's my mom yelling. I'd better go."

"All right."

"I'll come by around eight or so tomorrow to drop off any more homework we might have, okay?"

"You don't – "

"Have to, yeah. Don't worry about it. That's just what friends do for each other."

Gill opened his mouth, but nothing came out. One word was stuck in his head. "…Friends?" he finally said.

"Yeah, friends." Beth sounded slightly confused.

"We're friends?"

"Gill, are you trying to offend me?" Beth asked teasingly. "Of course we're friends." Another yell in the background. "Okay, I seriously have to go now. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Bye!"

"…Bye," Gill said, but she had already hung up. He lowered the phone from his ear, lost in thought.

We're…friends?

Of course we're friends. She'd seemed so sure about it. As though it never could have been otherwise.

Gill wasn't what anyone would call a "social" person. Despite his position as student body president, he mostly kept to himself. It wasn't that he disliked people; he just didn't see much of a point in meeting tons of his peers, only to realize that he knew next to nothing about any of them later on.

Could his fellow Student Council members be considered friends? Kathy he got along with relatively well, though he had no particular reason to seek her out outside of Student Council business. Candace was far too meek to relax around, and Luna…well, he didn't even want to think about that right now, it just made his headache even worse.

Beth was the only person he'd interacted with outside of Student Council business – by choice. And now that he considered it, she wasn't such bad company. Nonjudgmental, friendly, and always willing to listen, her presence was engaging without being demanding. Even Gill wasn't one for talking, he had to admit – she was very easy to converse with.

Oh, he thought, and it occurred to him that his surprise was probably unwarranted, in this case. I guess that makes us friends.


A/N: Shiznitz, this chapter was long! Whew. I really didn't expect it to get super long like this, but I wanted to have that Gill/Beth interaction at the end. And then Chase took the middle section and completely ran away with it, cheeky bastard. Writing Chase is sometimes too easy – it's because he's the most similar to me, speech-wise, so…I just have to kinda visualize what I'd say in the situation, and BAM. There it goes, spinning off out of control. Darn.

By the way, I have no idea what all that stuff about Their Eyes Were Watching God was about. I think I was trying to work in some comparisons and allusions and it all just fell flat. Forgive me, please.

Haha, Gill is all like, "WHAT, WE'RE FRIENDS?" Silly, you've been friends since forever. You just never knew it, because you're too focused on being so serious and professional all the time. Ah…boys are so clueless sometimes…And do you like how he totally doesn't react when his father says it? Probably cuz he's used to such comments from Hamilton by now, hehe.

As for Beth's going kinda overboard helping Gill…it's just kind of her nature. She gets so carried away helping people sometimes. XD And Gill doesn't overreact and go like OMFG WTH WOULD YOU EVER DO THAT because he's an overachiever too. Just…kinda in a different way. :D

As for me…I'm going back to the States soon! I don't want to promise that chapter updates will happen faster, since school starts a little over a week after I get back…but I promise I'll try! Oh, I should update Damn Everything But the Circus too…argh, too many things to do.

Thanks to HamiGirl for a new review (and in response to your question, the prologue is something that happens in the future - to give you a taste of what's to come ;)), and to Okapi95, Fox, That Dorky Chick, Rhinoceros, IcePanther124, and DemonFoxToy for continued support. Love you all!

Wow this was a long author's note…long note for a long chapter, I guess?

Chapter title is from "Lean On Me" by Bill Withers.

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