Author's Notes: I've just noticed that I have been mistaking a few last names recently. It is Bif Tremblay (not Taylor) and Gord Vendome (not Vendrome). Sorry 'bout that! ^-^;
EvilChick101: Aw don't be sad, Gord will bounce back. :3 Thanks for the review!
A Boy Named Troy
Chapter Twenty-Eight
When did the world become so complicated for Bif? Everything of late seemed to have a deeper meaning or secret sides. It used to be that Bif could just do whatever anyone in power told him to do. Teachers instructed him to read three chapters for an assignment, he did it (and came off as smarter than he really was by comparison of his peers that had not bothered to do anything other than slack off). A year ago, if Derby schemed, Tremblay would go along with it, no questions asked or concerns stated. Now he could not help but think about what message his fearless leader was really trying to convey with his recent decisions.
That morning, Bif had decided to just walk around the academy campus. There was no class that day, so it was rather vacant. A few nerds and cliqueless students roamed around, but not enough to disturb his thoughts. Word had gotten around that Hopkins and Vendome were no longer together. Bif was unsure of exactly how Derby would feel about this, but was certain that the blonde would not be pleased. At least, for the moment being, the boxer did not have to concentrate so hard on the plan that made him utterly uncomfortable.
Instead, the redhead planned to give thoughts to his own problems. His peculiar feelings towards the young Harrington had not dispersed. If anything, they had made themselves a more permanent home in his mind. Along with feelings of desire came a stabbing jealousy that Bif was finding harder and harder to contain. Just the other day he found himself walking towards Pinky without any idea of what he had planned to do when he got there. "This needs to stop." he thought with determination.
Heading towards the library, Bif crossed the snow covered asphalt. As much as he enjoyed being left to his self, it was quite chilly out and he was only wearing a black wool coat and rabbit fur-lined leather gloves. To keep up appearances, he needed to wear expensive clothing, which his family could not afford. They tried their best and he did not expect them to spend their hard earned dollars so that he could keep up a façade. His parents were able to buy him the gloves for Christmas, but that was it.
Bif's cold cheeks stung when they were first hit with the heat from inside the library. He imagined that his face was about the same color of his hair. The experienced boxer did not expect any warm greetings; sure, the nerds were terrified of him, but he was in their domain. He was not there to cause any sort of trouble though.
It was a tad bit intimidating walking through the entrance arch of the high ceilinged building. To be quite honest, he had not entered that learning facility for years. When he was fourteen, a few of the other preps began to question why he went there. Bif told them that he needed to do some research for a thesis paper and they laughed and told him to just wing it, as was the way of the rich. He tried to explain his need for better than average grades (without exposing that he was only at the school from a scholarship), but they would have none of it. A prep pays for grades with money, not honest work. Ever since then, he was afraid to blow his cover by studying in the library, which meant he had to put extensive work in stretching out facts he gained from lectures and his textbooks.
A second level had been added to the busy building, Bif noted when he laid eyes on a polished staircase. That had not been there three years ago. Wanting to get away from Ms. Carvin, who was screeching at him about leaving her exceptional students alone, Tremblay decided to investigate the addition.
There was not very much other than tall shelves filled with older books, the redhead sighed at first glance. Looking down the other end, he saw a group of astronomy vested nerds gathered around something. He should have just traveled back down the stairs to find an empty chair to ponder away in, but curiosity got the best of him. Strong steady steps carried him down to his genius peers, his Aquaberry clashing with the green.
It was a chess game. Two pale, short, scrawny boys sat on either side of a checkered table. Bif recognized one to be Earnest (Derby thoroughly detested him) and the other was Donald. Five guys and one girl surrounded them. Eagerly watching the smoothly calculated moves, it took awhile for them to notice Bif. He soaked in the few minutes he had to be unknown; he once loved to play this game with his father. In that time, Donald took one of Earnest's pawns with a bishop, which was taken by a rook in the following turn.
A nasally voice then spoke up. "What are you doing here?" It was Cornelius. This caught the attention of the rest of the group.
Earnest, whose back was to Bif, took a quick peek over his shoulder and then returned to staring at his pieces. "Did Harrington send you?" His high and mighty tone irked the boxer.
"No, I just stopped by for a few moments of peace."
The nerd leader scoffed. "You preps think you can walk all over us, coming in here whenever you please. You don't see us wandering into Harrington House."
"It is a private residence." Another sneer sounded. "And since do any preps venture in here?"
The leader did not bother to reply, but his opponent did. "One of you showed up this morning too. That guy sure was looking poor, crying and such."
"Who was it?" Bif raised an eyebrow.
By a shocked expression that flashed across Donald's face, it was obvious that Earnest shot him some sort of look. "I-I don't recall his name."
All it took to get the answer out of him was a stern, "Anderson."
"It was Gord! He's still sitting in the woodworking section with the cobwebs!"
"Thanks."
`*~~~*`
Sure enough, there was Vendome, curled up in a ball on the ground between two all but abandoned shelves. He looked worse than Bif had ever seen him. Gord's eyes were puffy, pink, and very sore looking, with tears still leaking from them. His sweater was also torn and there were marks on his face as if he had taken a hit or two. Blood thinly trickled out his nose. "Vendome, what happened?"
Sniffling and rubbing his eyes, Gord slowly made eye contact with Bif. The ex-prep immediately jumped to his feet. "Bif!" The brunette threw himself on the boxer, embracing him around his chest. He continued to cry shamelessly into the black coat. "Oh it was simply horrid!"
All Bif could do was straighten his back and shift around awkwardly, leaving his arms at his sides. "People have been saying that you were unfaithful to Hopkins. Is that what happened?"
"No!" his head rubbed into the redhead's shoulder. "Well yes…"
"Did he hit you?" Tremblay could not believe that Jimmy would actually strike the weaker boy.
"Of course not! It was those greasers. Those filthy dirty greasers did this to me." he sobbed a few more times. "They had a plan to split us up. Isn't that the most ridiculous thing you have ever heard of?!"
Bif swallowed back a lump of guilt. "What?"
"Johnny V. set me up."
"Oh." They were preps, in the nerd hangout, about to discuss a scheme devised by greasers. Somehow Bif did not find that entirely comfortable. "Why don't we get you cleaned up and talk further elsewhere?"
