I disclaim. You are awfully annoying. If I did own anything, I wouldn't be here.
Chapter 8
Phillip sauntered down the halls of Salem High. His hair lay flat on one side, the other side sticking up. What was wrong with teachers anyway? Waking him up in first hour study hall for no reason? Geez... He was just about to fight Captain Hook and have a torrid a affair with Peter Pan.. oops... Tinkerbelle.
"Hey K-man!" A brainless jock, like himself, called out to him. "What's up?"
Phillip stopped and smiled. "Just the usual... battling off girls... Man, I wish they would stop begging!"
The other guy was clearly impressed. "Aww man, you are so lucky. So did ya score this weekend?"
"Do you have to ask?" He smirked and pushed past the other, leaving him in awe. He yelled to Phillip's backside.
"I bow down to you K-man!" Sniffing the air, he noticed an odd raspberry scent.
-------------
"Hey Belle. Meems." Phillip greeted his friends who were hanging out by Belle's locker.
"Hey Phil!" Belle's perky voice pierced his ears.
"Hi Phil! Hey, were you at Salem Place yesterday? With some guy?" Mimi questioned him curiously. Affectionate scenes between Phillip, a strange man, and a trashcan wasn't a daily thing.
"Uh... yeah.. that was me."
"So, who was that man?"
"Oh that's just Harold. He's a friend."
"Phillip, you have a friend?! That's SO cool!" Belle's perkiness made Phillip want to smack her, but thankfully, he had learned his lesson with Danny.
"Yeah... thanks Belle."
"So Phillip, are you coming to the party tonight?"
'Party? Party?' Oh! Damn... he had promised Harold he'd have dinner with him and then they could go see a movie (most likely a re-showing of Toy Story 2). But he couldn't tell Belle, Mimi, and the entire football team that. That he was hanging out with odd, screwball Harold and a tattered trashcan who spoke Irish gibberish, so he said the only thing he coul.
"Yeah Meems, I'll be there." He flashed her his dimples. "And YOU had better be there too." With a wink, he was off, back to his shallow manners, superficial ways, clueless to the latent happiness he had just blown.
----------
Harold waited patiently at the front door. He fumbled with his tie, twisting it with anticipation, adjusting it slightly every few seconds.
The front door opened. "Can I help you, sir?"
"Is Phillip here?" Harold's genuine smile lit his face.
"No sir, Master Phillip is NOT here."
Harold's smile fell. The glow in his eyes dimmed to ashes and his soul was shattered. And not even by a man. But by a... boy. A clueless, ignorant, dense jerk. The kind that ruined so many lives, so many futures, so many hearts.
Henderson noted the pain of the young man and offered him a tissue which was ignored as he walked out the door. Harold wiped at the tears spilling from his eyes with two fingers. Once again on his own, he drove towards the only friend he knew was always there.
Chapter 8
Phillip sauntered down the halls of Salem High. His hair lay flat on one side, the other side sticking up. What was wrong with teachers anyway? Waking him up in first hour study hall for no reason? Geez... He was just about to fight Captain Hook and have a torrid a affair with Peter Pan.. oops... Tinkerbelle.
"Hey K-man!" A brainless jock, like himself, called out to him. "What's up?"
Phillip stopped and smiled. "Just the usual... battling off girls... Man, I wish they would stop begging!"
The other guy was clearly impressed. "Aww man, you are so lucky. So did ya score this weekend?"
"Do you have to ask?" He smirked and pushed past the other, leaving him in awe. He yelled to Phillip's backside.
"I bow down to you K-man!" Sniffing the air, he noticed an odd raspberry scent.
-------------
"Hey Belle. Meems." Phillip greeted his friends who were hanging out by Belle's locker.
"Hey Phil!" Belle's perky voice pierced his ears.
"Hi Phil! Hey, were you at Salem Place yesterday? With some guy?" Mimi questioned him curiously. Affectionate scenes between Phillip, a strange man, and a trashcan wasn't a daily thing.
"Uh... yeah.. that was me."
"So, who was that man?"
"Oh that's just Harold. He's a friend."
"Phillip, you have a friend?! That's SO cool!" Belle's perkiness made Phillip want to smack her, but thankfully, he had learned his lesson with Danny.
"Yeah... thanks Belle."
"So Phillip, are you coming to the party tonight?"
'Party? Party?' Oh! Damn... he had promised Harold he'd have dinner with him and then they could go see a movie (most likely a re-showing of Toy Story 2). But he couldn't tell Belle, Mimi, and the entire football team that. That he was hanging out with odd, screwball Harold and a tattered trashcan who spoke Irish gibberish, so he said the only thing he coul.
"Yeah Meems, I'll be there." He flashed her his dimples. "And YOU had better be there too." With a wink, he was off, back to his shallow manners, superficial ways, clueless to the latent happiness he had just blown.
----------
Harold waited patiently at the front door. He fumbled with his tie, twisting it with anticipation, adjusting it slightly every few seconds.
The front door opened. "Can I help you, sir?"
"Is Phillip here?" Harold's genuine smile lit his face.
"No sir, Master Phillip is NOT here."
Harold's smile fell. The glow in his eyes dimmed to ashes and his soul was shattered. And not even by a man. But by a... boy. A clueless, ignorant, dense jerk. The kind that ruined so many lives, so many futures, so many hearts.
Henderson noted the pain of the young man and offered him a tissue which was ignored as he walked out the door. Harold wiped at the tears spilling from his eyes with two fingers. Once again on his own, he drove towards the only friend he knew was always there.
