A/N: Borrowing characters from the TV show "The shield" The strike team are teenagers in this story.
No matter what Anwar might think, he really was just minding his own business.
He wouldn't have been looking in that direction, if his younger sister, hadn't have been so clumsy. "Kirby, give me the eggs!"
"No, did you know that if you keep an egg in a warm place, a chick comes out?"
"How is that possible? It's all egg white and raw yolk! Pass them over before you crack them!" Eric yells.
"Shut up Eric, you're scaring the chicks!" She clutches the eggs. He reaches for the bag. Only for his eyes to click on to a slim figure in a dark red jacket and purple trousers. He knew it was him. He'd watched his body enough in the corridoors to notice. He mouths his name and he doesn't notice him until a few seconds later.
"Anwar?" Eric whispers.
Like clockwork the untouchable notices that he's being watched. He gives him the finger before grabbing a pair of trousers and disappearing out of sight. Seeing a crush in a shop, trying on clothes, wouldn't have been that much of a big deal. Except that the shop was "Condit-care" A well known charity shop that had casual clothes, for reasonable prices. Eric was so confused and shocked he pulled away from his little sister. She could carry the eggs, just this once.
A couple of days later Eric cringes when he sees Adam, back from military school. He's talking to a girl, who seems clearly interested as she's touching his biceps and running her hand over his head. Eric isn't that surprised. Adam's now fitter, firmer and dressed in denim with a buzzcut. Military school gave him a make-over. He probably forgot about the "detention" as soon as that commander guy drove him away.
He quietly walks over to his locker, praying that he goes unoticed. His key goes in smoothly. He only needs one library book and his Nivea cream, that's it. He grabs the cream quickly and holds his book against his chest. Otis pats his shoulder and he's about to open his mouth to say hello...
"Tromboner! Miss me faggot?" Adam asks, jutting his own chest out and pressing him against the locker.
"Welcome back Adam!" Eric plasters on the same fake smile that he always does.
"Lunch?" The headmaster's son asks, staring at him with a tilt of the head.
"Not today freak-show dick, Eric's having lunch with me. Off school premises. Cains. The new place with that windchime chanderlier that was picked out by Paige Van Zant!" Anwar said gently pulling Eric by the sleeve. "I can see why you bully boys Adam. It's not like you've got real friends to play with to pass the time. Why don't you take your little skank out for a fag, and stay the fuck away from Eric!" Anwar spits the words out but stays calm, staring the taller boy down.
Startled by the outburst, and the attention of other kids getting out their phones. Adam nudges Anwar's arm carefully, making sure that Anwar hands separate from Eric's sleeve. He doesn't like it. He slides near the blonde, but leans his body on the lockers, forever keeping his eyes on Eric's face.
"This ain't over Tromboner" Adam mutters under his breath ignoring Anwar like he would his father's bookcase at home. He walks off, so fast that even his female admirer can't keep up.
"Wow! You're amazing!" Eric grins.
"I know, but I'm still not your friend.."
"Huh?...Boy...what?" Eric squeals.
Don't worry, I'm really gonna take you out, but you and I need to have a little chat, don't we?" Anwar purrs giving him a worrying stare that suddenly reminded Eric of Cadet Groff.