Author's Note: This is the second part of Horseshoes, yes. But it may also be the final part. I *do* have a lot more in store for the Goof Troop gang, but I have too many other projects on my hands right now, between fic and novels and other things. Someday when I have time, I'll probably write more. Yet, for now, I hope you enjoy what's here.
"...So, son, alls ya gotta do is tell the people it's a great car really wonderful thing they really oughta buy it so whaddaya say, and boom. Sold." Pete rambled through a semi-full mouth of mashed potatoes.
Bradley coughed lightly, turning his eyes back to his own empty plate. "That's ... good to know."
"You're done already?" Peg smiled. "Here, have some more." She plopped a ladle-full of mashed potatoes down on Bradley's plate, followed by another large portion of chicken casserole, as PJ entered the kitchen and sat down as far away from their houseguest as possible. "PJ! Good, here, have some food." Peg smiled. "PJ?"
PJ said nothing, watching Bradley intently as one would a mosquito.
"EAT." Peg commanded, waving her hand sharply in front of his face. As PJ jolted his attention back to the dinner table, Peg whispered, "And don't you worry about him."
"MOOOOOMmomomomomomomomomomomomMOM!" A voice called out, as a blur of fuschia and white with a long red ponytail flew into the kitchen and lighted in the chair next to Bradley. "We won the gaaaame! And I caught a really wicked fly ball and you shoulda seen it and. ... who's THAT?" The girl looked over at Bradley and cocked her head, eyes shining curiously despite the dirt on her face. "Are you an exchange student? We have an exchange student in our class. His name is Abu Ranamahaneepotamandomarakesh or something like that." She smiled.
Bradley wiped his mouth on his napkin. "Bradley Uppercrust III." He said blandly, regarding her with the amount of respect and fear due to such a hyperactive child.
"Oh, well, that's not all that foreign. You must be British." She shrugged. "Hey PJ, pass the gravy."
"Pistol," Peg said calmly, serving her up some casserole, "Bradley is staying with Goofy and Max for the summer, but he's from right here in Spoonerville like us. .... Bradley, this is my daughter, Pistol. She just got back from her Little League game."
"Aaaa-ha." Bradley nodded slowly, as Pistol began feeding her face. "Nice to meet you.... I think."
Pistol stopped abruptly. "Wait a second." She said through a mouthful of peas.
"PISTOL PENELOPE! SWALLOW THAT!" Peg commanded.
Pistol gulped. "I know you." She continued, not skipping a beat. "You're that sleazeball no-good Gamma JERKface that blasted PJ into the stratosphericalism!" She glared at him, then stood, moving her plate and going to sit beside PJ. "I can't believe I'm eating the same food as a jerk."
Peg gasped, staring at her daughter in disbelief. "Pistol! He's a houseguest, and you'll treat him nicely."
"Mom, I'm not a kid anymore, I'm a whole ten and a half years old." Pistol sulked.
"That doesn't make any difference. Now apologize to Mr. Uppercrust."
"Sorry Mr. Uppercut." Pistol mumbled, picking at her dinner. PJ smirked, leaning over and whispering something to Pistol. She giggled. "Does he really?" PJ nodded, sending Pistol into yet another fit of giggles.
Bradley slowly pushed his plate towards the center of the table and stood. "Well, Mrs. P, I really should get going. Big day tomorrow. ... Nine, right?"
Pete nodded. "Yessiree Bob. On the dot, bright and sharp."
Bradley nodded slowly. "Uhhhh huh."
"Now, Peter, you're letting him go early, aren't you? PJ, what time is your practice?"
"Two..."
"Let him go at two, then."
Pete frowned. "I hired that boy for an eight hour workday and I --" Peg glared at him, folding her arms. "Yes, Peach Pit."
"That's better, Muffin Nose." Peg smiled, pinching his cheeks. "You have a good night, now, Bradley. And don't forget what I told you!!!" She finished, an edge to her voice.
"Riiiight." He pointed a finger at him with a wink and a cluck of his tongue. "Gotcha. Thanks for the dinner. It was great." He flashed his most winning smile at Peg, nodded to Pete, then let his gaze wander to Pistol and PJ. "See you tomorrow, PJ." He said sincerely. "It was nice meeting you, Pistol." With that, he made one last check of his eye in the reflection of the toaster and headed out of the kitchen.
As soon as Bradley was gone, PJ looked over at his mother. "Mom, I gotta make a phone call. I'll be back, ok?"
Peg blinked. "Okay, sweetie. But don't take too long."
"Right." PJ sped upstairs to his room, dived onto his bed and picked up the phone, dialing a number he'd only recently learnt by heart. "Come on. Pick up."
"Greetings. Fortune smiles upon you, my friend, for this is not an answering machine.... it is reality. Speak."
PJ grinned. "I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees."
Snaps laughed. "Well, hey there, Papa Dog! What's brewin'?"
"Well, first of all, Max is going someplace with his girlfriend day after tomorrow, and I don't think he'd mind if it were a double." He said hesitantly.
"Ohhhh, sounds right up my alley." She said. PJ sighed contentedly - he could hear her smile. "And second of all?"
"His Royal Lowness is staying with Max." PJ said quickly, before he could change his mind.
Silence ensued on the other end of the line for a moment. "Wait. Next door to you?"
"Yeah."
Snaps sighed. "Don't let him drag your karma down with him. That is the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone. Just keep your eyes out. He's a ..." She paused, then rephrased, "He's trouble, ok, Papa Dog? You watch your back."
"I will. Thanks." He smiled. "Hey --"
"What is -for horses, better for cows, Alex." She said wryly. "Yes?"
PJ laughed. "I love you." He said quietly.
"Well, you know what they say. What you give, you get back."
"See you Friday, then? One?"
"I'll be there. Take care, PJ."
"I will, uh...." He blinked. "You never told any of us your real name."
"Please," She groaned. "Snaps will do just fine for that."
PJ chuckled. "Boy don't I know the feeling. See you then, my little Java Bean."
"Later."
PJ sighed as he hung up the phone. I needed that. He smiled, then headed back downstairs to dinner.
Max grinned as he unwrapped a blank tape and put it in his tape recorder, setting the parameters on the stereo before flopping down on his bed and picking up a copy of Skateboarding Weekly. He'd gotten about halfway through the first article when there came a knock on his door. "Who iiiiisss iiiiiiit?" He sang out pleasantly. Oh this is gonna ROCK...
A heavy sigh issued from behind the door. "Bradley." He answered heavily. Oh, I should have been a PA major!
Max blinked at the tone of his voice, then smirked as he hit record on the stereo. "Come on in." He said nonchalantly. The door creaked open slightly, and Bradley poked his head in, looking around cautiously. "Well?"
He sighed again, stepping into the room as he scratched nervously at the back of his neck. "This is a, uh, nice room you've got here." He said hesitantly.
"Thanks. Look, I know what you're here to say, so say it and then get out of my room, okay?" Max ventured.
Why that little sonnofa --- Bradley closed his eyes and let his anger simmer down before responding contritely, "Very well, then. Though I'd been hoping...." He sighed. "But, no... I was never meant for such wishful thoughts..."
Max raised an eyebrow as he got to his feet. What does he think he's doing?! "Whatever, Brad. Spit it out."
Bradley leant on Max's shoulder, adapting what he hoped was a pitiful, penitant look. "Max, Max, Max." He hung his head. "I am deeeeply, greviously sorry for the things that I have said about your father. He is a very ... special ... individual, and I mean that in the most favorable light possible, my friend. As for you, I should have known I was crossing a line and kept my mouth shut."
Max fixed Bradley with a look of disgust. "You got that right."
"But as you know, due to extraneous circumstances, I'm really not quite myself lately." He squinted his eyes ever so slightly, feigning the verge of tears. "After all," he choked, "it's not every day one ... loses ... everything one believed to be true..." With a deep breath, Bradley closed his eyes, resting his head on Max's shoulder. "Please, Max. Try to understand..." He looked straight up at Max, catching his eyes at just that right moment, when his suspicion wavered. Sensing a possible clinch, Bradley lowered his voice to the most humbling, guilt-trip-inducing tone he could muster. "What if you lost your father, Max?"
Max opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again, looking slowly at Bradley. Two seconds ago I wanted to shove this creep off my shoulder. But ... he's really got a point. Maybe Peg's right.... He took a deep breath and swallowed his pride. "Bradley ...." He removed the cardigan-clad arm from his shoulder with more civility than originally planned. "It.... it's okay."
Bradley bit his tongue fiercely to keep from smiling triumphantly, and also to bring just a few teardrops glittering to his eyes. "Thank you, Max." He whispered. "I ... I won't forget this."
"I won't let you." Max said, a slight edge to his voice. "But, well ... there's something I wanted to give you." He opened one of his drawers and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for, lifting it out solemnly.
Bradley's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the blue-and-yellow jersey, and he wiped his eyes on his sleeve, covering his face for a fraction of an instant and allowing himself an indulgent smirk. "Isn't that your jersey, Max?"
"My spare." He nodded. "You have a helmet, right?"
"Well, yes, but...." YES, I'm wearing him down..... this is excellent.... "What are you trying to say, Max?"
Max managed a small smile. "I think ... you should be part of the team. Just while you're here." He blurted. That wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be.
Bradley's eyes lit up. "Really??" He gasped. "You mean it?" Max nodded, then yelped as Bradley hugged him fiercely. "Thank you!!!!" He released Max, who brushed reflexively at his shirt. I feel the same way. Goof germs! Ugh.... but as long as the effect is attained...
Max coughed, handing Bradley the jersey. "No problem. We have practice tomorrow at two."
Bradley frowned. "Oh, wait - I have to work tomorrow."
"Hmm, Mr. P might not be willing to let you off. But it's too late to reschedule now, I already called Bobby." Aw shucks, eh Brad? Geez - Peg really has him whipped. I gotta thank her for that.
Bradley sighed. "Oh well. I'll see what comes of it." He headed for the door, clutching the shirt like treasure. "Thank you, Max. This ... really means a lot to me." With that, he closed the door behind him and retreated to his room, shutting himself in and burying his face in his pillow so Max couldn't hear his laughter.
Back in his room, Max shut off the tape player and took out the cassette. He looked at it dubiously. It's funny. For the first couple minutes there it sounded like he was stringing me along. But... then, that comment about his father ... He heaved a sigh. My head hurts. Setting the tape on top of his dresser, Max wriggled out of his shirt and climbed into bed.
"Brad?"
Bradley sat up to the sound of that old familiar voice, finding himself slumped over a table in the library of Cuillere Academy, staring into those violet eyes framed by pale blonde ringlets. "Ginny..." He muttered groggily. "I fall asleep again?"
"Yeah." She giggled, smoothing out his mussed bangs and closing her notebook. "Hey - you wanna go see a movie tonight, ditch the study group?"
He straightened his posture and slipped a hand around her waist. "I'd love to, Gin. We're gonna sit in the back row, right?" The senior gave her a smirk, complete with that raised eyebrow no Cuillere girl had ever been able to resist.
"Well ..." She twirled a finger in her hair. "I dunno, I mean, you're leaving for college and ... I dunno." She pouted, sticking out one full red lip. "I hate being a sophomore and... well ... you know..."
Bradley nodded. "It's ok, Ginny. We'll keep in touch."
Ginny blew a contemplative bubble with her gum, then nodded. "Good... you wanna know what I love about you, Brad?"
He smiled. "What?"
"You're not like the guys in my class. You're a senior - you're so sophisticated ... and considerate ... and sweet ... and cute ..."
Bradley smirked, pulling her a bit closer. "That's all?"
She laughed musically as she flopped into his lap, a notebook falling open on the floor. "Oops... my Lit homework!"
He picked the book up, glancing at the page. "Slam poetry? What's this?"
"It's when you take random lines from books and stuff and make it into a poem, you know."
He wrinkled his nose. "Weird...."
"Well, I sorta like it...." She shrugged. "But I'm definately gonna be a business major. So we can work together."
"That'd be cool." He grinned crookedly, as the bell rang.
Bradley jolted from his sleep, slamming on the snooze button by his bed. Those were the days... he thought sleepily, sliding out of bed and throwing his khakis on over his boxers, hopping over to the bureau to fish out his sweater. Good ol' Ginny Browning. But not anymore... His expression soured, train of thought interrupted as someone hammered on his door.
"Braaaaadleeeey..." Goofy called out. "You want some breakyfast afore I drive ya t' Pete's?" He squirmed into his sweater. "No!"
"Ya gotta eat."
"No I don't." He muttered, yanking on his sneakers and tossing his new jersey into his backpack, along with his pads and helmet. "I'm boarding over to the car lot, anyway!" He tucked his board under an arm and slung his rollerblades over his shoulder, then threw the door open, pushing past Goofy and sliding down the banister of the staircase. With a sneer, he pushed the door open and threw down his skateboard, putting as much sidewalk between himself and the house as he could as he tried to banish Ginny's face from his mind.
Bradley made his way down the street, humming an old eighties tune to himself as he slid past old haunts and pizza parlors, past the park and the library until he finally came to Pete's Used Cars, skidding to a halt just outside the doorway of the office. "Hey Mr. P... reporting for duty." He called out, kicking his board up into his hands and slinging his backpack into the corner.
Pete looked up from his paperwork and managed a grunt.
"Uh, yeah." He chuckled. "What do you need me to do?"
He closed the ledger and eyed Bradley, drumming his fingers on the desk. "Y'kin fill th' water cooler an' rig up th' fan. It's hotter'n Hades in here and I'm sweatin' like a stuck pig." Pete contemplated for a moment, then added, "Then rig the oil in the cars. All of em."
Bradley winced slightly. "Suuure thing..." He smiled, hefting the jug of the water cooler in his hands and carting it over to the sink. Two o'clock better come fast...
Bobby Zimmeruski sat on the grass, tightening the wheels of his bike as Max worked the half-pipe of the town park and PJ inspected the contents of the picnic lunch Peg had sent with him. "So, Max. If Bradley Underbite's part of the team now, why're we startin' so early without him, huh?"
"So we can learn new moves without him knowing and snitching to the Gammas." Max shook his head. "We can't exactly be expected to play fair with him after what he did to us, can we?"
"I dunno, man." Bobby glanced at the portable tape deck sitting on the picnic table, wandered over, and hit Play.
"It's not every day one ... loses ... everything one believed to be true..."
"That's deep stuff for someone who's supposed to be BSing his way through an apology."
PJ scoffed, tossing a bag of potato chips onto the table. "Bobby ... Bradley BSes his way through everything! This is just a safeguard."
"Can we NOT talk about Bradley for once?" Max sighed, grinding to a halt and sitting on the edge of the halfpipe. "I'd rather concentrate on my date."
"Du-u-uuuude." Bobby smiled, leaning on the picnic table. "You mind if I invite Stacey along, bro?"
Max shrugged. "PJ's bringing Snaps along. I don't see why not."
"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Bobby cheered, doing a brief dance move before spying a small container in the cooler. "PJ. Dude. Buddy. Is that for me?"
PJ pulled out the can of Cheddar Easy Cheese and smirked. "Maaaybe."
"Aw come on."
PJ laughed, then tossed the cheese to Bobby. "You know we don't eat that stuff. All yours, Bobby."
"Awriiiiight." He popped open the can and was about to chow down when Max grabbed his wrist. "Hey..."
"Skate first, scarf later, guys. We gotta get some new moves down before His Bradleyness gets here."
"Right." Bobby nodded seriously, setting the cheese down on the table. "So, like, Max. Now that Bradley's on the team, we'd be one away from being able to enter the Winter X Games... and I know you kill on a ski jump, dude."
Max nodded. "We'd need a skater, though, and as good as I am on blades, skates just aren't my thing. And I doubt Bradley would go for it. He seems more of a slalom type or something. All shifty."
PJ laughed. "Yeah, really. I'd board...."
Bobby gave him a high-five. "You and me, PJ. But figure skating. Man.... I don't think any of us is that ..."
Max blinked. "Wait a second guys. I gotta idea. What about ... what about Roxanne? Think she'd wanna do it?"
Bobby's eyes lit up. "Duuuuude. That would seriously rock."
"I'll ask her, then... " Max nodded decisively. "Come on. Let's try the cross move. I know this isn't a zipper, but we should do what we can with it. I know that was the Gammas' strong point last year, and even without Brad, they might be able to beat us at it if we don't practice."
"Do it to it." PJ nodded, taking a swig of water before pulling on his skates. As he headed for the halfpipe, he chuckled to himself.
"Share the joke, bro?" Bobby asked.
"I was just wondering how Bradley's faring with my dad...." PJ smirked.
Pete munched on a candy bar from the half-empty vending machine as he watched Bradley lift the hood on his twentieth car, a beat-up red sedan. "That's it, kid. Good old hard work."
Bradley muttered an obscenity under his breath, then unscrewed the oil valve with his blackened hands. I can't believe this. I do the work and he sits there and stuffs his fat face. .... But it's money. And the more of it I get, the farther I get from those GOOFS. They all think they can turn me around into some goody-goody person who'll help them and .... ugh. I'm me. I'm not the big cheating, scamming, bribing idiot they think I am. Sure, I do ... things ... to get ahead sometimes, but only in sports. He sighed, remembering his father's lectures. "You've got to have one thing you're good at, son, and don't let anyone convince you you aren't number one at it. The rest ... do what you can." It was in the pursuit and the name of that number one that they had learned his bad side ... and that he had lost so much. But still, he stuck to his guns, and he would continue to until that coveted numeral was his again.
With a determined squaring of his shoulders, he quickly poured a cup of sawdust into the oil, closed the cap, shut the hood, and went to the next car.
Snaps sighed as she leant over her double mocha latte, poking at the cinnamon curls with her stirrer. "So you're going away tomorrow too?"
Her roommate nodded. "I'm going on a date with my boyfriend - we're going to the movies."
"Huh, me too." Snaps shrugged. "Who's your guy?"
Stacey popped out her retainer, took a swig of her chai, then replied, "Robert Zimmeruski."
Snaps nearly spit her coffee back into her mug. "Bobby Zimmeruski? As in, Mr. Cheesa?"
"Yep. Isn't he great?"
Snaps laughed. "You're kidding. He's coming with Papa Dog and I. ... So's Max and his girl."
Stacey's eyes lit up. "Group date! Oh, how extreme is that?? I can't wait to see Roxanne again!" She grinned. "You'll love Roxanne. She's terrific. What an artist, too! She went off to be an art major and surprised just about everybody. I mean, talk about hidden talent! She does these portraits that just - ooh! And her pastel work, wow. And like ---"
Snaps put her hand over Stacey's mouth. "I get the picture, partner. ... I can't wait."
Goofy beeped the horn in a "shave-and-a-haircut" pattern as he pulled into Pete's car lot. "Hey, Braaaaadley!!! Ready tuh go?"
Bradley finished rigging the last oil valve, closed the hood, and wiped his hands off on the blackened dish towel he'd been using. "Am I ever." He muttered, grabbing his skateboard and backpack. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Pete."
"Oh, s'Saturday tomorrow, no work. Big cookout. Ever'body comin'." Pete smiled, waxing off a beat-up Studebaker.
"Can I bring Sylvia?" Goofy asked.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... surewhynot." Pete grumbled. "I'll see ya, Uppercrust. Ya did good work today."
Bradley smiled as he slid into the backseat of Goofy's car. "Thanks, Mr. P. See ya."
"So what'ja do today, Bradley?" Goofy asked amiably.
"Uh -- I fixed cars." Bradley replied bluntly, staring out the window.
"That sounds fun! Hey, the boys are almost done practicin' but I figgered I'd drop ya off anyway."
They got an early start WITHOUT me?? I should have known. "Thanks."
"You okay, Bradley?"
"Fine." He said through clenched teeth.
"Well that's good. Say, you wouldn't feel up ta helpin' me out with th' house work while Max goes on his date, wouldja?"
Max? Date? .... I wouldn't miss that for the world. "No thanks, Mr. Goof, I have to take care of a few things... where's he going?"
"Oh, to th' movies with his girl." Goofy smiled. "They're gonna go see some new thing with ELizabeth whatsherface."
"Elizabeth Furley?"
"That sounds right."
I'm definately not missing this. "Cool. I'll have to check it out when it gets to video or something." Bradley said noncommittally, as they pulled into the park. "Thanks for the ride - I'll board back." He managed a small wave, then headed over towards the green. An Elizabeth Furley movie *and* the chance to ruin something for Max. Bradley, you're going to have one busy weekend. He tried his best to hide his smirk as he approached the team. "Hey guys!" He waved, putting on his most congenial smile.
"Hey, Brad." Max replied, kicking up his board. "We were just working on the quarter pipe moves... any suggestions?"
"Well ..."
Everyone on Team 99 braced for a snide remark.
"Have you tried the halfpipe flip? Only, like this? ... Hang on." He strapped on his pads and helmet, then proceeded to execute a move that was usually only seen - and done - on a halfpipe.
"Holy cheese fondue." Bobby gaped. "How'd you do that, bro?"
"Easy. Watch...." The three of them watched intently as Bradley repeated the move several times, explaining the execution between tries. "It's easy, you just have to keep moving, and keep your ankles loose when you turn, so you can flip quick enough. .... Here, Max. You try." He slid off the quarterpipe and leant against the picnic table to watch. "Okay, that's good --- keep your toes in -- yeah! You got it!!" He grinned. "That was a 10, Max." As Max slid onto the grass, Bradley held out a hand for a high-five, and Max took it, hesitantly.
"Wow, Max! That was awesome!" PJ gushed. "I bet we could win the town contest with that!"
"Now, the fun part is when you get a team of four on a zipper pipe and they're all doing it. That looks awesome." Bradley smiled. "I mean, imagine the choreography, boys!" He spread his hands wide, as if setting the scene.
"Whoa." Bobby said, staring out into space. "Total Broadway... like one of those water ballets on boards."
"Yup." Bradley nodded, pleased with himself. I'll get them to the top, of course. But then....
"Look, Max, we gotta get goin, dinner's gonna be ready." PJ pointed to the clock in the center of the park.
"Great, I'm starved." Max kicked up his board and started for the sidewalk.
"Hey guys, I'll see ya tomorrow, ok?" Bobby grinned, giving them both the thumbs-up.
"Come to the cookout too, huh?" PJ nodded, attatching the picnic basket to the back of his bike. "Riiiiight! I'm there! See ya!"
Bradley started to skate after Max, pulling up beside him. "You guys wanna practice again tomorrow morning?"
"No thanks - we're doing something tomorrow." Max replied, skating ahead of him. "Bye, Brad."
Why that ...!! But, no. Tomorrow, they'll learn not to mess around with the Number One. With that, Bradley decided to skate over to the cafe and grab himself a Mocha Berry Latte before heading back to the house. He figured that after such a hard day's planning, he deserved a reward.
Roxanne tightened her scrunchie as she clutched her sketchbook to her chest, waiting by the ticket booth of the Spoonerville Roxy. After scanning the streets, she leant against a wall and opened the book, then pulled a pencil from behind her ear. Paying no heed to the small tendrils of hair she'd dislodged, dangling near her eyes, she began to doodle. First the circle for the head, then the nose, then the eyes. I miss those eyes.... She smiled wistfully, then freely sketched in some hair. "There." She said to herself, holding the sketch she'd created of Max out at elbow length. "I'm sure he's changed, but ..."
"ROXANNE!!!"
She whipped her head upward, bangs flipping out of her wide eyes. "STACEY!!!" She set the sketchbook down on a nearby bench and ran towards her friend, attacking her in a massive hug. "What're you doing here??? I miss you so much!!"
"I missed you too!" Stacey gushed, giving Roxanne a squeeze before stepping back. "You look great!"
"So do you - wow, finally got the braces off, huh? Awesome!" Roxanne grinned, then caught sight of the figure in black lagging behind her old highschool chum. "Who's your friend?"
"This is my roommate, Gi --" She paused, catching herself. "Snaps."
Snaps smiled. "A fellow creator. Cool." She shook Roxanne's hand calmly. "Mind if I leaf your leaves?"
"Huh?"
"Can she look at your sketches?" Stacey translated.
"Sure!" Roxanne smiled, handing her the book.
"She's a little ... unique." Stacey whispered, "But she's wicked nice. We're meeting the guys for Enchanted."
"You're seeing that too? ... Who're you seeing it with?"
"I thought you knew - PJ and Bobby!" Stacey grinned.
Roxanne let out an overjoyed shriek and bounced up and down on her toes happily. "This is just awesome! The whole crew, together again! ... I can't believe it's only been a year..."
Stacey paused, catching sight of someone over Roxanne's shoulder. "Oooh." She clicked her tongue appreciatively. "Did you see that?"
"I'm taken, but I'll bite..." Roxanne looked discreetly over her shoulder. "Where?"
"Ticket counter - the one with the skateboard." Stacey gushed. "Brown hair?"
"Ooh." Roxanne raised an eyebrow. "He is sorta cute. .... Max is cuter."
"Hey, Snaps! Come get a look at this!" Stacey called.
Bradley and Snaps whirled around at the same time. In the instant that they caught sight of each other, they both turned away just as quickly.
"You girls must be denser than a Coleridge stanza." Snaps hissed. "That's the enemy!"
"That's .... Bradley Uppercrust III?" Stacey blinked, lifting up her glasses to rub her eyes. "Well you didn't say he was cute. You coulda warned me!"
In line, Bradley nearly dropped his skateboard, gulping. Not HER!!! He moaned inwardly. This is just teriffic....
"STA-CEYYYYY!!! What's UP, chica?" Bobby called out as he skidded to a halt on his rollerblades.
Okay. Maybe it isn't so bad. Bradley smirked, edging to the other side of the ticket booth. The victims are starting to arrive.
"Bobby!!!!" Stacey pounced on her beau, sending him swerving off balance and crashing into a cardboard display for the latest kids' movie. "Oops. .... Are you okay?"
"Heyyy, no sweat." He pulled off his skates and stood, making his way to a bench before taking off his backpack and exchanging blades for sneakers. "How ya be-en?"
"Great - you should meet my roommate." Stacey paused. "No wait, you have met my roommate, heven't you. Ohmygosh, I guess I'm just sooooo incredibly happy that we're all going to be hanging out together that I'm forgetting things!" She threw her arms around him. "I can't belieeeeve I never bumped into you - I thought you were going to the Tech!"
"Yeah, heh heh. Weird." Bobby smiled, detatching her and fishing out their ticket money, as Max and PJ arrived.
"Mr. Peter J." Snaps smiled, as PJ chained his bike to the rack outside and straightened his beret. "And has life been gracious and appreciative of my favorite bohemian buddha boy?"
PJ smiled, as Snaps planted a kiss on his cheek. "S'pretty good. I mean ... the team and all ... we're doing well. You'll be attending the barbecue, right?"
She chuckled. "Of course. Save me a plate of macaroni salad."
"Wow." Roxanne said hesitantly, tracing her toe along the carpet of the theater. "You guys ... you've really changed. 'Specially PJ. I mean .... " She chuckled. "Wow."
Max smiled. "Yeah ... college. .... You're looking ... pretty good, too." He choked.
"Um .. thanks." Roxanne tightened her scrunchie as Max handed her a cloth lily. "For me?"
"I didn't trust myself with any real ones." He chuckled. "Knowing Dad and plants, I was thinking it might run in the family. You know?"
Roxanne giggled, then tucked the flower into one of the pockets of her purse. "I'm sure you'd do a great job. ... How is your dad, anyway?"
"He's ... he's good." Max smiled. "He's actually, um ... " He managed a laugh. "Dating someone."
"Really! That's wonderful! Who?"
"The college librarian."
Roxanne smiled. "That's sweet. Will I get to meet her at this picnic of yours?"
"Yup." Max grinned. Then his grin fell as he remembered their other guest. "Um ... you get to meet Bradley, too."
"Bradley?"
Everyone froze.
"Oh, no. Maximillian, don't tell me that grey cloud is bringing his rain to our picnic parade." Snaps frowned, clucking disapprovingly.
"Well ..." Max winced. "He is staying with us because of this whole mess with his family or something and ..." He groaned, then kicked at the ticket booth in frustration. "Just for ONCE," he snarled, "I'd like to do SOMETHING without hearing Braaaaaadley this, and Braaaaaaadley that!!!! Can we just ... UGH! Can we just go see the movie, huh?? PLEASE?"
"Dude." Bobby said quietly, paying for their tickets. "Major stressage, bro."
"Sorry." Max sighed. "I just ... I'm sick of it. Come on."
Bradley smirked, then slid into line behind them. By the time they were in the theatre, he had managed to strategically place himself in the seat behind Roxanne. Time to have some fun.
About fifteen minutes into the movie, Bradley turned his attention away from Elizabeth Furley and the screen, and looked over at Roxanne and Max. Each was watching the movie, oblivious of one another at the moment. Perfect, Bradley smirked, sinking down as low as he could in his seat and letting his foot stretch down under the row in front of him. After a moment, his sneaker brushed up against Roxanne's ankle and he grinned, moving his toe up and down her calf.
"Max!" Roxanne hissed. "What do you think you're doing?"
Max blinked. "Huh? What, nothing, I'm watching the movie!"
"Nothing?? Then what was that I just ..." She sighed, then went back to watching the movie. Bradley waited until he thought she'd calmed down, then repeated the trick. "Max!!!!"
"Whaaaat?"
"Stop that!"
"Stop what?" He winced.
"You keep doing this weird thing to my leg, over here!" Roxanne snapped.
"Hey, dudes, can ya keep it down, this is a good part." Bobby shushed.
"Sorry, Bobbo. .... Roxanne, I swear, I'm not doing anything!"
"Oh really!" She frowned.
"Roxanne!"
Snaps frowned at PJ. "I'm sensing some major bad karma." She whispered.
Okay, ladies and gentlemen, my work here is officially done. They'll be at each other's throats in minutes, and I don't want to be around then .... might get seen. Smirking, Bradley slunk towards the back of the theatre, snagging the extra bag of popcorn PJ had set at the edge of the aisle, and found himself a seat to watch the remainder of the show - slipping out during the credit bloopers in order to get back before the others.
"So, Bradley, how'd yer excursion go?" Goofy asked, as he and Sylvia helped set up a picnic table in the back yard.
"I scoped out some boards. Grabbed a cup of coffee. Not much." Bradley shrugged. "Hey Miss Marpole."
"Bradley." She smiled. "Want to go into the kitchen and help us get the dip ready? There should be a platter of vegetables on Peg's counter."
"Okay." He stifled a smirk, then headed into the kitchen. Bet I could spice up this dip a little and nobody would notice. He rummaged around in the cupboard, then extracted a tin of cayenne spices. Same color as paprika. Nobody's gonna care until they're burning the roof of their mouth off. He stifled a chuckle as he tapped a liberal amount of spices onto the vegetable dip.
"Braaaadley!" Peg crooned, gliding into the kitchen with a bag of potato chips. "You're helping! How sweet." She finished through gritted teeth. "Now what are you up to?"
"Up to, Missus P?" He smiled, hiding the tin behind his back. "Nuthin'."
"Give me that."
"Excuse moi?"
Peg glared at him, then dipped a finger into the dip and sniffed at it. After a moment, she smiled sweetly. "How nice of you to remember that Pete likes spicy food." She cooed, pinching his cheek viciously. "But nobody else around here can stand that cayenne pepper."
"Heh heh ... and here I thought it was paprika." He grinned, setting the tin down and edging towards the slider door.
"Suuuure." Peg leant forward, locking the door with one hand and pinning Bradley against the glass. "Now listen up, you little greaseball. I know what you're up to. I heard that tape of yours and I know bullcrap when I hear it. ... I would have thought those boys would recognize it by now, knowing Peter, but ..." She sighed. "Never mind that. You'd better not be pulling anything at those rehearsals, or I can pull a few strings at State and have you taken somewhere else, a shelter or something."
"A shelter?" He wrinkled his nose. "You can't do that to me. I'm 20 years old, lady."
"Then for goodness sakes, ACT LIKE IT!" She roared, inches from his face.
"Besides," Bradley continued, unruffled, "a middle class housewife like you could never have enough pull at a college like that to do something of that magnitude."
Peg smiled. "You know Elmyra Willoughby?"
"That alumni who donates about ten thousand dollars a year? Yeah, I know her. Why?"
"We're like this." Peg crossed her fingers.
Bradley went white. "You ... you are not."
"Am so. Want to talk to here? Here, I've got her on speed dial. We play tennis on the weekends." Peg smiled maliciously, lowering her voice. "Now you behave and be good to Goofy and those boys, or I will make you RUE the day you ever came into our lives!!!! CLEAR?"
"As crystal." Bradley muttered, as Peg released the latch on the door and pushed it open, sending him sprawling out onto the lawn.
"Wonderful." She giggled, tossing him the bag of chips. "And take these with you!"
Bradley sighed as he picked himself up, brushing grass off of his khakis. It is gonna be one long summer.