Part Eight by Randa

Francis just glared at them all and stomped out of the room. 'Just like Mom'
he thought. Yeah, right. He was NOTHING like his Mom. Nothing! He turned
around as a thought hit him. "You boys don't forget to clean up your mess!
If you don't, Bud'll never invite you back."

Malcolm and Reese stuck their tongues out at him, while Lois just raised a
brow. Dewey was completely oblivious; He was trying to fashion a Batman
cape out of Hyde's leather jacket. As he slung the garment around, a silver
lighter fell out and hit the ground with a light clinking noise. Dewey got a
positively evil look on his face and surreptiously slipped the lighter into
his pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Francis walked into the bedroom he was sharing with Hyde. To his dismay, he
saw his cousin lying on the bed looking at an old yearbook. He and Hyde were
trying their best to ignore one another; Whenever Francis walked into a
room, Hyde walked out. The reverse was usually true, but Francis just really
wasn't in the mood right now. He walked further into the room, slamming the
door behind him.

Hyde jumped and stuffed the yearbook under his pillow. "What the Hell is
your problem, man? You don't just sneak up on people like that!"

Francis rolled his eyes. "Whatever. We need to talk, Hyde."

It was now Hyde's turn to roll his eyes. "What about?"

"I think you know what about."

"Maybe you should enlighten me?" Hyde muttered, shifting on the bed until he
was eye to eye with Francis.

"Jackie!"

Hyde stiffened. "What about her?"

Francis punched him on the shoulder. "What do you think?"

"I *think* that you should stay away from her," Hyde all but growled. His
eyes had gotten very cold looking and he had to literally hold himself back
from giving his cousin a big old bruise on his pretty-boy face.

"And why is that, 'Cuz? Could it be because your just as crazy about her as
I am?" Francis taunted.

Hyde lunged for Francis, knocking him to the floor. He grabbed his cousin up
by his jacket lapels and shoved him against the wall. He was just about to
land his first punch, when he stopped. He was breathing hard and holding
onto his self-control by one sigle thread. "You mind your own freakin'
business, Francis!" he growled, turning away and stalking out of the room.
"And stay the Hell away from her!"

The last word was emphasized with the slamming of the door. The force of the
slam was enough to rattle the walls and knoock the yearbook to the floor.

Francis just stood there a moment, counting his blessings. Thank God Hyde
hadn't snapped on him; The last guy who got into a serious fight with his
cousin was landed in the hospital for three nights. The boy still walked
with a limp. Not that he hadn't deserved it; Hyde had only fought him to
defend Francis. The guy was a real jerk, and he was always pounding on him.
Until Hyde found out, anyway. Now, he turned pale whenever Francis was
within ten feet of him and ran away, muttering about crazy trouble-makers and
their scary relatives.

Thinking about that almost made Francis feel guilty about his feelings for a
girl Hyde obviiously cared about. Almost.

All of a sudden, his eyes were drawn to the yearbook laying on the floor. He
walked over to it, planning on placing it back on the bed. He was distracted
by the little note written on one of the autograph pages. It was the only
message in the book, and it was from Jackie.


Steven,
I missed seeing you at the Pep Rally Today.
I really wish that you had come. I
like knowing that you are out there,
watching me. I know that it really isn't your
thing, but it means a lot to me. See
you next time? Have a great year!
Love,
Jackie Burkhardt


Francis winced. How could his cousin be such a moron? Hyde could have
Jackie if he wanted, which he obviously did, but he didn't get her. What was
the deal? He flipped a few more pages. He noticed that the book was bent at
the spine. Francis wrinkled his forehead in concentration. Hyde wasn't
exactly the type of guy to look at yearbooks. So why was this one so worn?

There was a knock at the door. Startled, Francis dropped the book to the
floor. Bud Hyde poked his head through the door.

"Hey there, Francis. Have you seen Steve?"

"uhh... He just slammed out about five minutes ago."

Bud thanked him and left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Francis looked down at the yearbook, and then did a double-take. The
book had fell open to a whole page devoted to Jackie; There were pictures of
her in her cheerleading uniform and regular dress, doing all of the things
that made her the Most Popular Junior, according to the page header. The
page was slightly creased, as if it had been handled a lot. Remembering an
episode of Matlock, Francis picked the book up and dropped it on the bed. He
did this several times, and each time it fell open to the Jackie page.
Apparently Hyde looked at this a lot.

Francis closed the book gently, letting out a sigh. He walked over to the
bookshelf and slid it into place and then went back over and flopped onto the
bed. Wincing at the sharp pain in his head, he reached beneath the pillows.
He pulled out one of those black and white composition books. Francis felt a
slight pang of conscience as he started to look through the book, but it was
overrun by curiousity. It looked like there was a lot he didn't know about
his cousin. Such as the fact that he was a pretty decent poet. There were
at least seventy poems in the book and, looking them over, he began to get an
idea of his cousin's reasoning in not claiming Jackie.

False Idol

She follows me around
like as dog on a chain
Every single moment
increases my shame
She hangs onto my every word
She worships me as a god
Puts me up on a pedestal
Thinks I can do no wrong
What would she do
if she knew the truth?


There were a million others just like this one. All of them acknowledged
Jackie's feelings, but enfored the idea that she didn't know who or what he
really was.

Francis closed the book softly and replaced it beneath the pillow. He had a
lot of thinking to do.


NOTE: The poem is mine. I realize that it sucks and does not sound at all
like something Hyde would write, but I though it up in under thirty seconds.
Sorry... I wasn't much up to poetry tonight . Oh, and I'm sorry this took so
long. It got accidently deleted once, so I tried to make it up by making it
extra long. So... Whose next?