Chapter 11
"Well, this is goddamned fucking wonderful," Gordie commented stormily later that night. They'd all been lying awake in their cots in the Pimpmobile for hours talking about what they had just seen.
"Maybe it wasn't Chris," Justi suggested. "I mean, it could have been like his evil twin or something-"
"Yeah, and winged monkeys'll fly out of Teddy's ass!" Gordie roared.
"Now that's happened," Teddy said into the darkness. The cryptic comment hung in the air for a little while until Gordie, unable to keep the smile out of his voice, said, "Care to elaborate, Teddy?" "No, not really. It hurts. It's a stoner thing," he added. "Wonderful." Vern rolled over on his side to look at Gordie, in the cot next to him. "Gordie," he began, "if you can tell me what staying awake worrying all night will accomplish, I'll worry with you until winged monkeys fly out of your ass. But until then, shut the hell up." Gordie's mouth flapped open wordlessly. "Well, I, uh. . . " "Exactly," Justi said, from the other side of Gordie. "Now come on. Get some sleep, Gordie. We have not seen the last of Chris." "What?" "You didn't honestly think we were going to leave Chris alone, did you?" Teddy asked in surprise. "Besides, that redhead was hot! I'm going after her!" Vern rolled his eyes. "Whatever was going on back there, Gordie, I'm sure there's something we don't know." "Yeah, I don't think Chris went to New York to be straight," Justi agreed. "Think about it. Having a girlfriend back in Castle Rock would have helped him a lot. As it is, people remember him as that kid who left and might or might not have been gay." "Maybe you're right," Gordie said doubtfully. "Well we'll never know if you die of an aneurysm from lack of sleep, now will we?" Teddy said. "Go the hell to sleep." "Teddy, that was one of the most poorly constructed sentences I've ever heard." "And I meant every word."
Teddy's Pimpmobile, while being very good to park on the side of the highway in, was not very good for sleeping in. Teddy had left all the windows in when he and Chris had renovated, so for the second time that week, Gordie found his eyes being assaulted by light long before he wanted to wake up. "Morning, you," Justi said, smiling at him. "What the hell. Let me sleep. Go home. Walk home. Just let me sleep, dammit."
"It's six o'clock."
"That was my point. Don't use it against me."
"We've been up for hours," Teddy called from the front, and that's when it sunk into Gordie's brain that the Pimpmobile was moving. "We've got a plan."
"Eh?"
"Yes. A plan. That's what normal people do when they want something like this done."
"No it's not. Normal people grab a machine gun, raise hell, get their boyfriends from the big city, and go home."
"Gordie Gordie Gordie. Have you really been around us so long that you no longer have a grasp on the meaning of the word normal?" Justi asked sadly. "That's not what normal people do. That's what we do."
"No difference."
"Huge difference. We put our heads together and decided that while it's a fun idea to go and pump that bitch full of holes, it's a bad idea because, as you know, Vern is afraid of blood."
"Oh yeah. Dammit Vern, you spoil everything."
"I do not!"
"Do too," Teddy said lazily from the front as he swerved to avoid a passing semi.
"What's your plan? Do you have a plan, or are we just going home to barrage more waitresses with your lame-ass pickup lines, Teddy?"
"Well, that was the plan," Vern said, stretching out on his cot.
"I thought it was good," Teddy contributed.
"And, of course, when Teddy thinks something is good, it cannot be carried out," Justi added.
"Exactly," Vern agreed. "So, we came to the conclusion that one of us needs to talk to Chris and find out what's going on."
"So we bought this." Justi produced a fake moustache. "We'll get Vern to wear it along with a fedora, ask Chris if he wants to buy insurance, and tell him that there's a special rate for people with gay dark-haired lovers."
"Seriously?"
"Of course not. She just likes to wear the moustache and the hat," Vern said dismissively, pointing to Justi, who was admiring her new appearance in the mirror.
"The plan the plan the plan the plan!" Gordie shrieked. "What the hell's the plan?!"
"That pretty much was the plan if you take away the hat and moustache," Teddy called back.
"Great," Gordie said, moaning and drawing the blanket around his little chest. "I'm putting my whole life in Vern's hands."
"Not exactly," Justi corrected. "You're going to talk to Chris."
"What the hell?!" Gordie shrieked. "I don't want to talk to him! In case you're totally missing everything that happened last night, I'll recap- he left me for a girl in New York!"
"Now, you don't know that," Justi said reasonably. "We figured we had to hear the story from Chris firsthand."
"Oh, and how would you do that?" Gordie asked sarcastically. " 'Chris, we saw you making out with a girl, and Gordie's still gay, and he'd just like to know what the fuck is going on'?"
"Now you're catching on," Vern said, smiling broadly.
"That's just what we did. You're a very bright boy," Teddy said, stopping the car.
"Where are we?" Gordie asked.
"What, it doesn't look familiar?"
"Well, yeah, but-oh no." They were parked in the parking lot of Chris's boarding house. "You've got to be kidding me. I am not going in there to talk to him. No way in hell."
"Well duh," Teddy muttered, rolling his eyes. "Never mind, Gordie. You are not a bright boy."
"Are we on time?" Justi asked, checking the clock."
"On time for what?"
"You'll see, Gordie."
"We're about two minutes early," Teddy announced. "We'll wait here a little while."
"Wait for what? What, dammit, WHAT?!?"
"Gordie! Settle down! You'll see!"
"Time for us to scatter," Teddy reported, opening the door and hopping out. The rest of them all walked down the aisle and headed out, too. Teddy waved before they disappeared behind the building.
What the hell is this? Gordie asked himself. He lay down on his cot, the same question running through his head. He was almost back asleep when a rapping at the window scared him enough to sit him up straight.
"Aaah!" But he looked over and saw only. . . Chris.
Chris was knocking on the bus door, holding a magazine. Gordie looked closer and saw that it was a teen magazine.
"Gordie, let me in."
Gordie wanted to laugh, remembering how only a little while ago, the situation had been perfectly reversed. "No," he said simply.
"Gordie, can you hear me in there? Cuz I'll say what I want to say, but I'm not wasting my breath if you can't even hear me." Gordie moved over and opened a window.
"I can hear you. But as of now, I don't want to unless this is a very, very good excuse for acting like a fucking man-whore."
"Whoa. Such language," Chris commented mildly still at the window. His nose was almost pressed against it, making a small circle of fog. Gordie wondered for a second whether he was cold, then decided that he didn't care.
"Do you have an excuse or not? Get talking!"
"Fine," Chris said, pulling the magazine up. "In this issue of Girl Today, there is a very interesting article."
"Oh really."
"Really. It's entitled Does He Really Love You?"
"Really now. You're right- that's very interesting, Chris. Does it tell you whether or not that little slut loves you or not?"
"Now, Gordie. I'd think you'd be a little smarter than that. It's not called 'Does SHE really love you'. It's called 'Does HE really love you'."
"Congratulations, Chris. You're literate."
"Indeed. Now, my hope would be that it would help me a little bit. You see, I'm not very good with stuff like this." His grin was impish, and for a second Gordie wanted to let him in, then decided to hear him out.
"Sign number one. 'He spends time thinking about your feminine charms.' Now, Gordie, this is kind of pressing, and I'm going to ask you to answer truthfully. Do you or do you not pass time by thinking about my feminine charms?"
"I used to," Gordie said, trying to sound very sarcastic and cutting. To his anger, Chris smiled.
"Good," he said, producing a small pen and making a check by Sign Number One. "Sign number two: 'He remembers to buy you a gift on your birthday.' When's my birthday, Gordie?" "December 8th." "Yup." He raised his wrist. "Now, I still wear this watch you got me. But you got it before we went out. Does that count, I wonder?"
"No," Gordie said automatically, but Chris made a small half- checkmark anyway.
"Sign number three. 'He has a picture of you somewhere in his bedroom.' Do you, Gordie?"
"Well, yeah, but only because I like the shirt I'm wearing," Gordie grumbled lamely.
Chris made another checkmark.
"Sign number four. 'He's met your parents and they love him.' Now, Gordie, here I'd like to say that if I don't date you, my mother will. So I'm going to give that two checkmarks, just because."
"Now that's cheating."
"There aren't any rules in the game of love," Chris said seriously. "Sign number five. It says that this one seems simple, but it's the most important one of all. 'He's said he loves you.' Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but you said 'I love you' first, right?"
"Meh," Gordie muttered to the affirmative.
"Okay," Chris said methodically. "Now, since that sign is sooo important, I'm going to give it two checks."
"If they wanted it to be worth two, they'd say it."
"Sometimes you have to read between the lines with these magazine quizzes, Gordie," Chris said gravely. He counted up the checks. "Okay, I have six and a half checkmarks. It says here that if you have five checkmarks, your relationship is 'steamy. You two were obviously destined to be together! Invite us to the wedding!' I kid you not," he added, catching sight of Gordie's face. "That's what it says. See?" He shoved the article in Gordie's face. "Now let me in, you steamy sex machine, you."
Gordie muttered something and yanked the lever that opened the bus door.
"Thank you," Chris murmured, coming onto the bus. His breath hung in the air before Gordie shut the door again.
"Now, I've always kind of questioned the accuracy of those damned magazine quizzes," Chris said, moving closer to Gordie. "So I want you to help me figure out whether they're right or not." He put his hands on Gordie's shoulders and stood at arms' length. "Do you love me or not, Gordie?"
"I love you," Gordie said, unable to lie to eyes that blue.
"I love you, too, Gordie," Chris said. "And the redhead?" "A friend of mine. Very Justi-like. I have not yet told her I am. . . er, unavailable." "Amazing, the power you have over women for being such a. . . man's man." "Absolutely amazing," Chris agreed, and pulled Gordie in for a kiss. Outside the bus, Teddy, Vern, and Justi cheered.
End of Chapter 11
I like the way this turned out. I think it's a lot cuter than I could have expected. Eh, whatever. . . I love fluff, but I'm trying to keep a lot of OOC fluff out. Lemme know if you didn't appreciate the "Chris sweetness", as it's been dubbed.
Fanfiction.net, by the way, HATES my mom's computer with a vengeance, so updates are few and far between, as the only place I can ever post something is at the library or my dad's. So I think what I'm going to start doing is getting like three chapters written out on Microsoft Word, saving them onto a floppy, and then posting them three or four at a time like once every two weeks (that's when I go to my dad's). Sorry for the inconvenience.
And last but not least, thank you SOOOOO much for all the nice reviews. I hit twenty the other day! This is so great! My goal is fifty by the time the story's over. (But if it doesn't pick up, that's one hell of a long story, so. . . goal changing in progress.)
Goodbye, happy trails, and GO SEE DICKIE ROBERTS. The Corey Feldman cameo makes it ALL worth it.
"Well, this is goddamned fucking wonderful," Gordie commented stormily later that night. They'd all been lying awake in their cots in the Pimpmobile for hours talking about what they had just seen.
"Maybe it wasn't Chris," Justi suggested. "I mean, it could have been like his evil twin or something-"
"Yeah, and winged monkeys'll fly out of Teddy's ass!" Gordie roared.
"Now that's happened," Teddy said into the darkness. The cryptic comment hung in the air for a little while until Gordie, unable to keep the smile out of his voice, said, "Care to elaborate, Teddy?" "No, not really. It hurts. It's a stoner thing," he added. "Wonderful." Vern rolled over on his side to look at Gordie, in the cot next to him. "Gordie," he began, "if you can tell me what staying awake worrying all night will accomplish, I'll worry with you until winged monkeys fly out of your ass. But until then, shut the hell up." Gordie's mouth flapped open wordlessly. "Well, I, uh. . . " "Exactly," Justi said, from the other side of Gordie. "Now come on. Get some sleep, Gordie. We have not seen the last of Chris." "What?" "You didn't honestly think we were going to leave Chris alone, did you?" Teddy asked in surprise. "Besides, that redhead was hot! I'm going after her!" Vern rolled his eyes. "Whatever was going on back there, Gordie, I'm sure there's something we don't know." "Yeah, I don't think Chris went to New York to be straight," Justi agreed. "Think about it. Having a girlfriend back in Castle Rock would have helped him a lot. As it is, people remember him as that kid who left and might or might not have been gay." "Maybe you're right," Gordie said doubtfully. "Well we'll never know if you die of an aneurysm from lack of sleep, now will we?" Teddy said. "Go the hell to sleep." "Teddy, that was one of the most poorly constructed sentences I've ever heard." "And I meant every word."
Teddy's Pimpmobile, while being very good to park on the side of the highway in, was not very good for sleeping in. Teddy had left all the windows in when he and Chris had renovated, so for the second time that week, Gordie found his eyes being assaulted by light long before he wanted to wake up. "Morning, you," Justi said, smiling at him. "What the hell. Let me sleep. Go home. Walk home. Just let me sleep, dammit."
"It's six o'clock."
"That was my point. Don't use it against me."
"We've been up for hours," Teddy called from the front, and that's when it sunk into Gordie's brain that the Pimpmobile was moving. "We've got a plan."
"Eh?"
"Yes. A plan. That's what normal people do when they want something like this done."
"No it's not. Normal people grab a machine gun, raise hell, get their boyfriends from the big city, and go home."
"Gordie Gordie Gordie. Have you really been around us so long that you no longer have a grasp on the meaning of the word normal?" Justi asked sadly. "That's not what normal people do. That's what we do."
"No difference."
"Huge difference. We put our heads together and decided that while it's a fun idea to go and pump that bitch full of holes, it's a bad idea because, as you know, Vern is afraid of blood."
"Oh yeah. Dammit Vern, you spoil everything."
"I do not!"
"Do too," Teddy said lazily from the front as he swerved to avoid a passing semi.
"What's your plan? Do you have a plan, or are we just going home to barrage more waitresses with your lame-ass pickup lines, Teddy?"
"Well, that was the plan," Vern said, stretching out on his cot.
"I thought it was good," Teddy contributed.
"And, of course, when Teddy thinks something is good, it cannot be carried out," Justi added.
"Exactly," Vern agreed. "So, we came to the conclusion that one of us needs to talk to Chris and find out what's going on."
"So we bought this." Justi produced a fake moustache. "We'll get Vern to wear it along with a fedora, ask Chris if he wants to buy insurance, and tell him that there's a special rate for people with gay dark-haired lovers."
"Seriously?"
"Of course not. She just likes to wear the moustache and the hat," Vern said dismissively, pointing to Justi, who was admiring her new appearance in the mirror.
"The plan the plan the plan the plan!" Gordie shrieked. "What the hell's the plan?!"
"That pretty much was the plan if you take away the hat and moustache," Teddy called back.
"Great," Gordie said, moaning and drawing the blanket around his little chest. "I'm putting my whole life in Vern's hands."
"Not exactly," Justi corrected. "You're going to talk to Chris."
"What the hell?!" Gordie shrieked. "I don't want to talk to him! In case you're totally missing everything that happened last night, I'll recap- he left me for a girl in New York!"
"Now, you don't know that," Justi said reasonably. "We figured we had to hear the story from Chris firsthand."
"Oh, and how would you do that?" Gordie asked sarcastically. " 'Chris, we saw you making out with a girl, and Gordie's still gay, and he'd just like to know what the fuck is going on'?"
"Now you're catching on," Vern said, smiling broadly.
"That's just what we did. You're a very bright boy," Teddy said, stopping the car.
"Where are we?" Gordie asked.
"What, it doesn't look familiar?"
"Well, yeah, but-oh no." They were parked in the parking lot of Chris's boarding house. "You've got to be kidding me. I am not going in there to talk to him. No way in hell."
"Well duh," Teddy muttered, rolling his eyes. "Never mind, Gordie. You are not a bright boy."
"Are we on time?" Justi asked, checking the clock."
"On time for what?"
"You'll see, Gordie."
"We're about two minutes early," Teddy announced. "We'll wait here a little while."
"Wait for what? What, dammit, WHAT?!?"
"Gordie! Settle down! You'll see!"
"Time for us to scatter," Teddy reported, opening the door and hopping out. The rest of them all walked down the aisle and headed out, too. Teddy waved before they disappeared behind the building.
What the hell is this? Gordie asked himself. He lay down on his cot, the same question running through his head. He was almost back asleep when a rapping at the window scared him enough to sit him up straight.
"Aaah!" But he looked over and saw only. . . Chris.
Chris was knocking on the bus door, holding a magazine. Gordie looked closer and saw that it was a teen magazine.
"Gordie, let me in."
Gordie wanted to laugh, remembering how only a little while ago, the situation had been perfectly reversed. "No," he said simply.
"Gordie, can you hear me in there? Cuz I'll say what I want to say, but I'm not wasting my breath if you can't even hear me." Gordie moved over and opened a window.
"I can hear you. But as of now, I don't want to unless this is a very, very good excuse for acting like a fucking man-whore."
"Whoa. Such language," Chris commented mildly still at the window. His nose was almost pressed against it, making a small circle of fog. Gordie wondered for a second whether he was cold, then decided that he didn't care.
"Do you have an excuse or not? Get talking!"
"Fine," Chris said, pulling the magazine up. "In this issue of Girl Today, there is a very interesting article."
"Oh really."
"Really. It's entitled Does He Really Love You?"
"Really now. You're right- that's very interesting, Chris. Does it tell you whether or not that little slut loves you or not?"
"Now, Gordie. I'd think you'd be a little smarter than that. It's not called 'Does SHE really love you'. It's called 'Does HE really love you'."
"Congratulations, Chris. You're literate."
"Indeed. Now, my hope would be that it would help me a little bit. You see, I'm not very good with stuff like this." His grin was impish, and for a second Gordie wanted to let him in, then decided to hear him out.
"Sign number one. 'He spends time thinking about your feminine charms.' Now, Gordie, this is kind of pressing, and I'm going to ask you to answer truthfully. Do you or do you not pass time by thinking about my feminine charms?"
"I used to," Gordie said, trying to sound very sarcastic and cutting. To his anger, Chris smiled.
"Good," he said, producing a small pen and making a check by Sign Number One. "Sign number two: 'He remembers to buy you a gift on your birthday.' When's my birthday, Gordie?" "December 8th." "Yup." He raised his wrist. "Now, I still wear this watch you got me. But you got it before we went out. Does that count, I wonder?"
"No," Gordie said automatically, but Chris made a small half- checkmark anyway.
"Sign number three. 'He has a picture of you somewhere in his bedroom.' Do you, Gordie?"
"Well, yeah, but only because I like the shirt I'm wearing," Gordie grumbled lamely.
Chris made another checkmark.
"Sign number four. 'He's met your parents and they love him.' Now, Gordie, here I'd like to say that if I don't date you, my mother will. So I'm going to give that two checkmarks, just because."
"Now that's cheating."
"There aren't any rules in the game of love," Chris said seriously. "Sign number five. It says that this one seems simple, but it's the most important one of all. 'He's said he loves you.' Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but you said 'I love you' first, right?"
"Meh," Gordie muttered to the affirmative.
"Okay," Chris said methodically. "Now, since that sign is sooo important, I'm going to give it two checks."
"If they wanted it to be worth two, they'd say it."
"Sometimes you have to read between the lines with these magazine quizzes, Gordie," Chris said gravely. He counted up the checks. "Okay, I have six and a half checkmarks. It says here that if you have five checkmarks, your relationship is 'steamy. You two were obviously destined to be together! Invite us to the wedding!' I kid you not," he added, catching sight of Gordie's face. "That's what it says. See?" He shoved the article in Gordie's face. "Now let me in, you steamy sex machine, you."
Gordie muttered something and yanked the lever that opened the bus door.
"Thank you," Chris murmured, coming onto the bus. His breath hung in the air before Gordie shut the door again.
"Now, I've always kind of questioned the accuracy of those damned magazine quizzes," Chris said, moving closer to Gordie. "So I want you to help me figure out whether they're right or not." He put his hands on Gordie's shoulders and stood at arms' length. "Do you love me or not, Gordie?"
"I love you," Gordie said, unable to lie to eyes that blue.
"I love you, too, Gordie," Chris said. "And the redhead?" "A friend of mine. Very Justi-like. I have not yet told her I am. . . er, unavailable." "Amazing, the power you have over women for being such a. . . man's man." "Absolutely amazing," Chris agreed, and pulled Gordie in for a kiss. Outside the bus, Teddy, Vern, and Justi cheered.
End of Chapter 11
I like the way this turned out. I think it's a lot cuter than I could have expected. Eh, whatever. . . I love fluff, but I'm trying to keep a lot of OOC fluff out. Lemme know if you didn't appreciate the "Chris sweetness", as it's been dubbed.
Fanfiction.net, by the way, HATES my mom's computer with a vengeance, so updates are few and far between, as the only place I can ever post something is at the library or my dad's. So I think what I'm going to start doing is getting like three chapters written out on Microsoft Word, saving them onto a floppy, and then posting them three or four at a time like once every two weeks (that's when I go to my dad's). Sorry for the inconvenience.
And last but not least, thank you SOOOOO much for all the nice reviews. I hit twenty the other day! This is so great! My goal is fifty by the time the story's over. (But if it doesn't pick up, that's one hell of a long story, so. . . goal changing in progress.)
Goodbye, happy trails, and GO SEE DICKIE ROBERTS. The Corey Feldman cameo makes it ALL worth it.