: Fight School :

: Chapter Eight :

"Come on, Guy!" Jesse hollered from hallway. His voice filtered in through the half closed bathroom door where Guy was standing in front of the mirror, hands on the sink, staring down into the dingy, porcelain bowl. He didn't want to be this person, this depressed, angst-ridden kid. But he was and he hated himself even more for it. It was an ironic sort of catch-22 situation. He was depressed about being depressed now. Guy chuckled humorlessly and raked a hand through his sandy hair.

It was almost time to go to the mixer. Ah, the stupid old tradition that all of them contributed to even though they were firmly anti-whatever everyone else in the school advocated. Behind the glamour of calling it the mixer, behind the reputation of always being the biggest, wildest party of the year (maybe only rivaled by the graduation party), it was just another shitty, high school party where under-aged kids got wasted and high, thinking they were the shit. It was a party just like all the other hundreds, thousands of parties going on at this very moment all over the country on a Friday night.

Fine, Guy thought. My life is absolute shit but I have the opportunity to go and get wasted and forget about it for a night. What ever would Bombay think? Guy had a funny little saying. Some people say "What would Jesus Do?" Well, his was "What would Bombay think?" For some reason, Guy thought a lot about his peewee hockey coach would think of him. Sure, Bombay was always closest to Charlie but he was kind of like a mother hen to all of them. And Guy got a vindictive pleasure, not an overwhelming sense of guilt, whenever he imagined what Bombay might think if he saw how far Guy had fallen.

Maybe it was because Guy was so used to everyone disappointing him that he wanted to be the one doing the disappointing. Maybe he'll be disappointing someone tonight. He'll be disappointing Bombay by doing what hundreds, thousands, of other kids must be doing right now.

"Guy, get your ass moving, we're gonna be late!"

Guy finally looked up at the mirror and smiled. Time to go.


The Ducks slipped through the massive double doors unnoticed and surveyed their surroundings. The place was already packed and it looked as though only one out of every three kids or so was someone that they vaguely recognized from the hallways of Eden Hall. For a second, they all stood there, maybe in awe, maybe just sizing up the situation. The house was massive and directly in front of them on opposite ends of the area was a pair of staircases that spiraled away from each other and led to what appeared to be a long hallway full of doors that led to rooms.

Jesse shrugged and broke their reverie.

"I'm getting something to drink," he said, and threaded his way through the crowd. Averman followed him and they disappeared among the masses of unidentifiable faces.

"Come on, I think I see a foosball table over there," Russ said, and he, Kenny, and Goldberg disappeared as well. Guy vaguely wondered where Charlie might be, seeing as how he hadn't come with them.

Connie's arm brushed against Guy and he looked over at her. She looked pretty, cheeks flushed, long hair shinier than usual.

"Want to go sit down or something?" she asked. Guy shook his head and she looked obviously disappointed. Guy felt a small pang but it wasn't strong enough to make him want to change his actions. Connie's expression changed from disappointment to concern and Guy internally swore. She wasn't going to try and interrogate him now, was she?

"Guy, I've been worried about you lately," she said. There was an urgent undertone in her voice. Guy shook his head.

"Connie, this isn't really the best time for this," he said. "Do you want something to drink?" She shook her head, looking at him with her wide blue eyes, looking worried, and Guy had to lean forward to give her a small kiss at the corner of her soft mouth. She gave him a tiny smile.

"I'm sorry," he said. He left her, threading his way through the crowd alone. Connie watched him disappear, wondering if she was completely in denial about growing apart. His retreating back was like a fortress and she wondered if she was even willing to make the effort anymore to break it down.


From the Appendices, part five

Games, unlike mental fights, hold a larger degree of physicality. Usually preferred to mental fights, they are tests of endurance, will, and strength. They act as though a physical fight in that the winner moves up in rank as the loser moves down, as would happen in a fight. Games as spectacles are popular and there are several stock games that are well known to everyone (see Appendix 6); however, after the hospitalization of one student from the result of a game has lead to apprehension regarding games in general. They are now outwardly defined to be uncouth and barbaric and games have become quite rare; yet they still persist in quiet popularity, being played on occasion and drawing a large crowd when it happens.


"Guy Germaine?"

It took Guy a minute to register his name being called and looked up. A drink held loosely in his hand, sitting one side of an enormous leather sofa, the other side occupied by a couple making out, he looked completely emotionless. His blank face looked dead in the dim light of the den. Then, squinting, trying to force his eyes to focus on the girl standing in front of him, he rubbed his eyebrow, confusion giving some life back to his face.

It was a girl he vaguely recognized; long brown hair, lighter than Connie's. Wide set eyes and dressed neither revealing nor uncomfortably. Connie had come wearing pointy heels and a tank top. Guy noticed he always did that, compared every girl to Connie. But he couldn't help it, considering they've been dating since they were ten. Guy leaned back to lean his head against the sofa, not really thinking at all. He was sick and tired of thinking and worrying and stressing. He felt like he was floating, maybe, drifting around in a haze that wasn't really a dream but wasn't really reality either; it was like being smothered with apathy.

"Yeah?" he finally answered.

"Can I have seat?" she asked, gesturing towards the empty space between him and the couple.

"Go ahead," he said, and she sat down, back towards the other people.

"I'm Julie, Julie Gaffney," she said.

That name was familiar. He'd remember it in a second. Wait for it…Oh yeah. Julie. Computer whiz. Girl who writes up the lists. What a tedious job.

"I was in some classes with your friends, Dwayne and Ken."

"That means you're in the AP classes," he said.

"Yeah I guess so," Julie said, and looked down at her hands, which were twisting themselves in her lap. She looked as though she was picking through what she wanted to say.

"I saw you in the quad," she finally said, looking back up. "With Cole."

Guy stared straight ahead, face dead once again, and took a sip of his drink. It tasted like acetone.

"I was impressed. Cole is pretty nasty and he fought dirty."

"I'm so glad you thought to note down his fighting techniques instead of, you know, getting help or something," he said. He laughed a little, out of disbelief.

"And what would they do?" she demanded, a little stung. "You know how the faculty is. They'd let Cole off with a warning and he'd jump you again. They think the fighting breeds ambition and determination."

"They wouldn't if everybody didn't endorse it and follow it like a religion," Guy snapped, and turned to properly look at Julie for the first time. He suddenly felt angry and the emotion coursed through his body like a fire, racing down his veins. And it felt good. It felt good to feel something.

"I know," she said softly.

He finished off his drink and threw the cup on the ground.

"It's so fucked up," he said, quietly. "This school. Everybody in it."

"I know," Julie whispered.

Guy stared at her. She reached up to brush her fingertips lightly for a second against a bruise that still shone darkly, high on his cheek. Guy caught her fingers in his hand and pulled them away from his face. He leaned in and kissed her.


Charlie swore under his breath. Why did Cole's house have to be so big? Who really needed all of this space, anyway? He felt like he was walking around in circles, looking for Guy who apparently had dropped off the face of the earth. He had run into Kenny and Goldberg and Russ, who were in the middle of some table game. He passed by Connie, whose eyes looked a little red; she blamed it on the smoke. He saw what seemed like all the Ducks mingling, drinking, having a good time, but no Guy.

It wasn't that Charlie was worried that somewhere in the house, Guy was cheating on Connie. It just didn't seem like a possibility. Guy and Connie would be together forever, with no bumps along the road; it was like a fact, a reliable fact of life that could be counted on. But it did remind him that he really needed to check on Guy, especially how he's been lately.

Suddenly, Haley was at his side, pulling him by the hand through throngs of people. "They're over here," she said, and lead him through a narrow back staircase.

"You sure they're here?" Charlie asked, as he followed her. She took him through a hallway and listened to one of the many massive wooden doors.

"This is it," she said, and opened it, gesturing to Charlie to go through the door first. Charlie did and Haley entered after him, shutting the door behind her.

The room was empty.

Charlie turned back around to give the girl a disbelieving look.

"Well, I thought they were here," she said playfully, and walked over to the large window. It over looked a large courtyard; someone had lit a barbeque and Charlie, from his spot by the door, could make out a sports court and a pool a little ways off. People were milling around, illuminated by the porch lights.

"Jen was going to try and hook up with you today," Haley said. "I'm just protecting you."

Charlie laughed. "You girls are crazy."

"At least we don't beat the shit out of each other," she said, and smiled very sweetly. "I've heard about how messed up your school is. I mean, they do it at New Dominion too but we don't make it a game. It just happens."

"I need to find Guy," Charlie said.

"You're not his dad," she said. "But if you really want to leave, you can."

Charlie stared at Haley, who still stood by the window, illuminated by the light. She stood with her hands on her hips, a little smile still lingering on her face, as though she already know what Charlie's decision was going to be. How couldn't she know? She knew she was a beautiful girl and below everything else, Charlie was still a guy. And Charlie knew it too; all of his clever calculations, his careful tracking of school politics seem to fly out the door as he looked at Haley standing before him. She really was very attractive.

He slowly walked over towards her. She was tall and wearing heels so that she could look straight into his eyes with a fairly combative look in her own.

"And how are you no more dangerous than Jen?" Charlie asked. He picked up a small section of her hair and twisted it between his fingertips.

"Because you won't see me again after tonight," she said. "Jen, on the other hand, is on the lookout for boyfriend number seven."

"Yeah? And you?"

"I just want you for tonight."

Charlie laughed and kissed her hard, one hand threading through her hair, the other around her waist. He pressed her against the window where below, students were gathering in the courtyard, watching two boys make their way slowly to the front of the crowd, a third boy following with a rake in his hand, letting it drag on the ground behind him.