Closer Than We Thought
Chapter 3: Starts With a W

*****

September 13, 1996
Friday the thirteenth. Friday-the-freakin-thirteenth. It couldn't be any other day, could it? Eden Hall Warriors 9, Blake Bears 9. If they hadn't made all 9 in the third quarter when it looked like we had it won... and if we didn't have practice at 5 a.m. tomorrow because of it... and if Varsity hadn't dumped all our clothes in the showers...

Well we got back at Varsity, at least wet clothes are wearable. Frozen ones aren't. I'm a little worried about that though. I know, I'm still a new Duck and don't know the way the old Ducks work, but it seems we've all dumped Banks pretty quick. It's not his fault he's on Varsity.

Much of that's a selfish worry. It's not my fault I'm his lab partner in biology. But Charlie seems to think I'm voluntarily fraternizing with the enemy, and nobody much likes to disagree with Charlie. Even though in private quite a few of us admit he's starting to piss us off.

Especially because it was none other than our wonderful captain who kept us from winning the game. Our beloved captain who hates our coach and would never admit if he were right about anything, just as a matter of principle. Our great and mighty captain who could never admit that he's wrong.

Excuse me if I sound a little bitter in this entry. I am.

This is why I shouldn't write... Writing. Starts with a W. Lots of things that start with W really annoy me. I think I'll make a list of them.

Writing- I already explained this one. It makes me think too much. Particularly about Russ. Even more specifically, about being in love with Russ. I could write a whole paragraph on this but I'm not going to. Maybe if I ignore my crush, it'll go away.

Work- It's not that I dislike work, exactly. Coach Orion's idea of work is not 'work,' though, it's slave driving. I said I'm more open minded about him than Charlie is, I never said I liked him. Plus, also in the work category, there's Mrs. Madigan, who's just... well, she's Mrs. Madigan. Enough said.

Will- Charlie was partly right when he threw that fit in the locker room. I've got no will to play for this stuffy school that just wants us here to win and give the alumni some extra glory. Nothing like playing for the Team USA Ducks.

Waking up- ...at 4 in the morning to get to a 5 in the morning practice. I'm a teenager, I shouldn't have to elaborate on this.

Wu- My last name. Duh. The only thing I don't like about it is that it starts with a W, so I'm listing it under things that start with W that I don't like, to show why I don't like the letter W. Argh! Here I go on another bout of writing-induced thinking.

Wisdom- For one thing, school exists in the name of giving us poor uneducated children the great gift of wisdom. For another, having the wisdom to realize I'm in love with another guy, and that it'll never work, is not something I can honestly say I'm too happy about.

Hope W burns in hell.

*****

Feelings sufficiently vented, I put my journal away and try to sleep. But sleep won't come. I can't help thinking of that game. That horrible game. How could we have let it slip away? But the worst part is that the game wasn't all we let slip away. The Ducks are slipping away too.

I glance over at Russ. Oh... just please don't let anything tear us apart. My heart's aching enough now.

Mrs. Madigan stood up in front of the class and glared at us. "Today before you begin your quiz, I have an important announcement to make. We are starting an out-of-class project." Everyone knows better than to groan. Out loud. Russ and I exchange hopeful glances but there's just no way she'll let us pick our own partners. Sure enough, "You will work with your lab partners. The project is to be completed by next Monday. When you turn your quiz in I will give you the worksheet detailing the project."

She begins passing out our quizzes. Banks and I exchange glances. It's not bad enough for us to work together in class, now we're going to have to go out of our ways to spend time together! I get enough flak about this from some of the Ducks already. And I suspect Varsity's not too pleased with him either.

He checks to make sure Mrs. Madigan isn't watching, then inconspicuously scribbles on the desk, "I'll see if I can switch with Russ."

Varsity jock or no, I guess Adam's really not so bad... though I know it's survival instinct that really made the decision. The feeling's mutual. At least we can say we tried to get out of it.

Nothing else I can do right now. I quietly take my quiz, an amazingly stupid set of essay questions about DNA. Luckily, I found some time to study over the weekend, even with all the practice Coach made us do. He doesn't seem to understand the concept of hockey being just a game. (Averman's calling him Captain Blood the Second.)

Banks finishes his test and takes it up to Mrs. Madigan's desk. I can't overhear any of what's said, but he returns holding a project worksheet and looking very irritated. Guess she said no.

I finish making up the last answer and hand my test in. The project details are horrid. It basically comes down to making a DNA model (to scale) for a sequence that we have to research, then making three more models of the same strand with different defects, explaining what each of the defects means, and writing a report about it.

Is she crazy? Stupid question.

Russ waits for me after class. We walk to history in complete silence, both of us undoubtedly dreading the next week. I mean, hockey practices have been hell enough, and now this! Plus we've got a huge algebra test to study for on Friday.

I hate this school. But... I give a sideways glance at Russ. Misery loves company, right? And there's no one else I'd rather be miserable with. As long as he's around, things might not be so bad after all. Heck, they could almost be wonderful.

Wonderful starts with a W... maybe it's not such a bad letter after all.

*****

A/N- Okay, I think I've spent enough time on Kenny-reflection now. Next chapter, action occurs. ^_^