I've been TRYING to write "As the Curtain Falls." Really, I have. But I've gotten so much feedback for this fic, that I've been inspired to write the next chappie (that and I've been watching the movie at least once a day for the past two weeks... *beams*). So. Here is chapter... what chapter are we on? Oh, yeah! Four! And keep in mind that this chapter takes place a week or two after the last one. *cackles and runs off*
Disclaimers: Sita does not own any of the characters mentioned in this chapter except for Mayfly. All original newsies and Medda are property of Disney. Ireland, Chaser, Heels, Mandy, Slosh, Bebop, Colleen/Maureen, Stage, and Speed all belong to their respective owners. ^_^
Warnings: Language, eventual slash and femslash
#NOTE: I realize that in the prologue I said that Blink's dad is the best lawyer in Manhattan. However, in the last chapter, I said that Blink's never lived in New York. I completely forgot that I wrote that in the prologue... so, in the style of Funkiechick, here is Sita's Really Bad Explanation: Blink's dad, Mr. Cliffton, works in New York because... important people with money live there. But the family lives in a different state. The end. *bows*#
But I'm a Prep!
Chapter Four
Step Two sucks. A lot.
And do you know WHY Step Two sucks? No, you don't, but I'm perfectly willing to tell you.
Remember that lovely, little session with the flashcards that we had with our partners? Well, Medda recently informed us that whoever we were with then is officially our partner FOR THE REST OF OUR STAY HERE.
I am stuck with Racetrack. Racetrack.
Please, God, kill me now.
"All right, guys, get a couple of more pitches in before lights out!" David yelled.
"You throw like a girl," Racetrack scoffed before pitching the baseball back at me.
"Will you just leave me the fuck alone?" I hissed.
"Aren't we touchy tonight?" I hummed the stupid thing at his head. "Now that was a throw, Blink." He smirked and tossed it back. "Try again."
"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP?!" This time, there were practically flames shooting off of the stupid, little ball when I chucked it in his general direction. It missed Racetrack completely and proceeded to whack David in the side of the head. David then proceeded to slump to the ground.
Ding, dong, the Witch is dead.
Race gaped at me for a few seconds before grinning wildly.
"Nice shot," he said.
I think it was then that I realized that this was the first time I'd ever really seen him smile sincerely.
So, what else could I do but smile back?
You know, even though Race is a total jerk most of the time... I guess he can be pretty cool every now and then.
*~*~*
"Everyone, get up!"
I blinked blearily and sat up in my bed. It's not like I was gonna get any more sleep; Mush was banging on the door frame and grinning like an idiot.
"Aunt Medda told me to tell you guys to get dressed because you're starting on Step Three today!"
"But we're not done with Step Two yet," Snitch protested through a yawn. Mush shrugged.
"Aunt Medda said that Step Two was a..." He frowned and knitted his brow. "A... a continuous step!"
"Big words for such a small brain," Racetrack muttered. I snickered under my breath.
"That means that you're just gonna keep doing stuff for Step Two while you're going through the other ones."
"We know what 'continuous' means," Race hissed. "We're not all imbeciles like you." Mush glared.
"Don't call me an imbe- ....im-bib-simil!"
"You should be honored," I broke in. "It's French for 'one who thinks quickly, like... like the stride of a cheetah.'" Mush blinked.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Wow... okay!" He beamed and trotted off.
Good puppy.
Race grinned.
"Nice one."
"Thank you." I immediately began groping around for my shirt. "So, what's Step Three again?"
"What about Step Three?" Spot asked. He was leaning on the bathroom door frame, scrubbing his newly-washed hair with a towel (he always gets up a half an hour earlier than the rest of us to hijack the bathroom and do whatever it is that he does to his hair).
"We're starting it today," Skittery replied, calmly plucking Snitch's cap off of the floor and handing it to him.
Spot's jaw dropped.
"W-What?"
"We're starting Step Three today."
"Oh, shit... oh, shit! Shitshitshitshit!" He slid down the wall and buried his face in his hands. "Kill me now," he moaned.
"What's wrong?" Spot stared at me in shock.
"Do you know what Step Three is?! Family Therapy!"
I froze.
"Which means...?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. Our parents are coming." Spot groaned again. "Please, just kill me. Or better yet, kill my mother."
No one in the room looked too happy about this, sans Skittery who looked pretty much indifferent. Snitch was clutching his cap and nervously sucking his thumb. Spot was still groaning from his position on the floor.
And Race?
Race was frozen. Absolutely frozen. He just kind of stood there, staring off into space with a cigarette smoldering in his hand.
"You okay?" Skittery asked. Race glanced at him for a second before whirling around and marching out of the room.
"I guess he isn't," Spot said quietly. He'd given up on the dramatics, thank God. But, you know, even though Spot normally acts like a bit of a "fairy queen" (as Swifty calls him), he knows when to knock it off and be serious. "Are you okay?" he asked, directing his gaze towards me.
I blinked.
"I'm okay, I guess. My dad's pretty much an asshole, but my mom's really cool." Spot smiled bitterly.
"I wish I had a cool mom. Hell, I wish I had a tolerable mom."
"Let's go grab some breakfast," Skittery said gently. I nodded and started to follow Spot out of the room. But before I got all the way out, I heard Skittery whisper, "Snitch, can I talk to you?"
I raised an eyebrow and shut the door behind me.
Could he be...?
I grinned to myself and pressed my ear against the door.
"What are you doing?" I glanced quickly at Racetrack and kindly motioned for him to shut the hell up.
"Listen." He frowned and pressed his ear to the door as well.
"... but I just didn't know how to tell you until now," Skittery was saying.
Racetrack's jaw practically hit the floor.
"He's telling Snitch?!" he hissed. I nodded. "Move over." He grabbed the door and cracked it open a bit.
I felt like such a voyeur. It was great.
Skittery stood with his arms wrapped around himself and looking generally nervous, which was odd, considering the fact that Skittery hadn't been anything but calm and collected during the past few weeks. Snitch stood on the opposite side of the room from him. He looked absolutely shocked.
"Are... are you sure you feel like that?" he asked quietly. Skittery blinked in surprise.
"Of course I'm sure."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you care about me?" Now, it was Skittery's turn to look absolutely shocked.
"Why would you ask something like that?" Snitch turned bright red and looked at the ground.
"It's just... well, ever since my mom remarried, my stepfather's pretty much ignored me, and my stepsister's been a total ass. She's always telling me that I'm worthless and that no one could ever really care about me. So, I guess that after a while... I just started believing it, you know?"
Racetrack and I gaped at each other.
"That's awful," I whispered. Race just nodded and immediately focused back on the two boys.
Skittery looked like he was completely horrified. Then again, I really couldn't blame him. I mean, every now and then, Snitch would rant about how Estelle, his stepsister, was just a total bitch, but we never thought it was this bad.
"Snitch, you've got to believe me. Estelle is full of shit, okay? She's just jealous because you've got actual friends, and her father has to pay for all of hers." I had to fight back a snicker on that one.
"Shut up, shut up!" Racetrack whispered through a grin of his own.
When we'd both stopped cackling enough to look back, the two of them seemed a lot closer than they'd been before.
I think it was then that I realized that Race was pretty much pressed up against the right side of my body.
And for some strange reason, I really didn't mind.
But I decided not to dwell on that for too long.
"So, will you at least think about what I said?" Snitch smiled shyly and blushed.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll think about it." Skittery smiled. A real, true, actually smile, which was saying something, coming from that kid; he usually acts like he's at a funeral.
"Can I... maybe... give you something else to think about?"
My jaw dropped for the ten thousandth consecutive time that day.
"He's not... is he?"
"That line's so cheesy," Race whispered back.
"I think it's cute."
"You would."
"Shut up, I think he's gonna do it." We both clamped our mouths shut and looked back at Snitch and Skitts.
"Sure," the former said quietly.
"He knows that he's gonna do it."
"No, he doesn't. Snitch is too thick to know anything about romance. He didn't even know that Skitts has been ogling him for the past month."
"I didn't know, either."
"Well, you're thick, too."
"And you're an asshole."
"Indeed I am. Glad we got that out of the way." I grinned and rolled my eyes.
The whole time that we'd been jokingly insulting each other, Skittery had been walking slowly across the room until he was approximately half an inch away from Snitch. He (Skittery, that is) looked like he was about to either piss on himself or turn and run. But, he didn't end up doing either one of them. He appeared to mentally calm himself down, then leaned forward and kissed Snitch. Snitch's eyes widened in surprise, but he closed them a few seconds later, tentatively grasped Skittery's shoulders, and leaned into it.
Race and I looked at each other and grinned.
"Let's get out of here before they get too into it," he muttered, shutting the door silently. We trudged down the hallway together towards the courtyard.
"Didn't Snitch say that he wanted to think about it?" I inquired. Racetrack snorted and shrugged.
"He did think about it. For like... nine and a half seconds." We both snickered. "By the way, do me a favor and take a big step to your left when I tell you, okay?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Okay..."
"Now." I stepped to my left just as a dart whizzed through the spot where my head had been about a second ago. It flew past harmlessly and embedded itself in the wall with a loud "thunk."
"Oops," Itey said sarcastically as he walked by. "Sorry." He pretty much shoved me into the wall as he walked out into the courtyard.
I stared at him.
"He just chucked a dart at my head."
"Yes. Yes, he did."
"Is there a reason why he just chucked a dart at my head?"
Now, if there's one thing that I've learned in the past month or so, it's that Dean "Racetrack" Higgins has the most impeccable poker face I've ever seen. So, when he turned bright red and started stuttering, I knew that there was something seriously wrong.
But I let him think I didn't suspect anything when he sputtered out an, "er, I-I dunno."
Letting him know that I'm more observant than I look might disturb his macho-man complex.
*~*~*
"Scoot over!"
"Shut up, Swifty!"
"Yeah, Swifty!"
"Asshole..."
"God, he really is."
"Can you guys not bring your personal problems into this?" Heels hissed. Bumlets and Pie Eater immediately looked at each other and settled for glaring at Swifty.
Perhaps I should explain before this goes any further.
Over the last month, Swifty and Pie had started seeing each other. Then, Swifty and Bumlets had started seeing each other. However, what no one realized was that Swifty was seeing Bumlets and Pie at the same time.
Not a good move. At all. Especially not since everyone eventually found out.
So, that's why it was very uncomfortable for the three of them to be obnoxiously close to one another... like they were now. But, hey, it's not like we had a choice. Bumlets, Swifty, Pie, Itey, Heels, Spot, Chaser, Race, and I were all attempting to peek through the windows of the Training Building where the first session of "Family Therapy" was occurring. Said first session included the parents of Slosh, Mayfly, Mandy, and Speed.
"Crack the window," Chaser hissed. "The Bitch is talking to Speed's parents."
"Why do you care about what she's doing to Speed?" I asked curiously. Chaser looked at me like I was an idiot.
"Duh. I only have the biggest crush in history on her." Racetrack raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't know that? Holy crap, you really are dense!"
I glared at them both.
"I despise you."
"Shh!" Heels snarled. "She's talking to Mandy." Swifty nudged the window open a bit so we could all hear. I turned my attention to the rather large, muscular man sitting on Mandy's right and the tall, thin, wisp of a woman on her left.
"... think of your niece's disgusting habits, Mrs. Garrett?" Mandy bit her lip and looked sadly at the ground. I heard a growl from somewhere to my left.
"Calm down, Heels," Race whispered.
"I'm gonna fucking kill her. I'll kill that bitch for doing that to Mandy."
"Doing what?"
"She made her cry!"
"There's nothing we can do about it," I said quickly. Heels' head snapped around. Her rather pretty blue eyes were narrowed into slightly evil slits, but I held my ground. "Jumping in the room and beating the shit out of Medda isn't gonna do anything." Heels glared at me for a few more seconds before nodding reluctantly and turning her attention back to the room.
The woman, apparently Mandy's aunt, had started to speak.
"I don't particularly find anything that Amanda does disgusting," she replied, beaming serenely. Mandy smiled brightly.
"Thank you, Aunt Tee." Medda didn't look like she liked that answer.
"So you don't find anything wrong with your niece's homosexuality?" Mandy's Aunt Tee blinked in surprise.
"Amanda, you're a homosexual?"
I had to fight against the overwhelming urge to slap my forehead. Duh, woman.
"Erm... yes, Aunt Tee."
"Ah. Well, that's all right, I suppose. After all, it isn't my place to judge you. That's God's decision and His decision only. But I still love you no matter what." She beamed brightly.
"I've never met a Catholic I liked, but I think that me and this lady could get along all right," Heels muttered.
"You could get along with anyone who'd stand up for Mandy," Pie chimed in, nibbling on the end of his Snickers bar.
"What about you, Mr. Garrett?" The big man grunted.
"Is she fixed yet?"
"We're working on it."
"That's all I need to know." Medda smiled and turned towards a very stiff-looking man and woman on either side of Slosh. Slosh did not look happy. She was rolling her eyes and sucking on her flask of Lortab.
"Mr. and Mrs. Johansen, Kylea blames her homosexuality on the fact that you two never show any affection to one another," Medda said, glancing sharply at Slosh. "How do you feel about this?"
"Excessive affection would make our daughter weak and unable to think independently. That is the last thing that she needs in a world such as this," Slosh's father said in a monotone voice. Her mother nodded. It was like these two were robots or something; it was a bit freaky.
Swifty started to hum the theme from "The Twilight Zone."
"Morons," Slosh muttered to herself. Her parents, apparently, didn't hear her. They just sort of stared off into space and didn't blink.
Medda looked a little freaked out herself, so she moved on to a rather cheerful-looking, chubby woman and a nervous-looking man. Mayfly sat in between them, looking generally happy. Then again, she usually did.
"Mrs. Bennett-"
"Please, call me Diane."
"All right, Diane, how do you feel about your daughter's homosexuality?" Mrs. Bennett sighed and shrugged, smiling all the while.
"Whatever makes her happy." Medda frowned.
"So you're saying that even though her disgusting, inappropriate behavior will probably get her sent to hell, you're fine with it as long as she's happy?" Mrs. Bennett frowned.
"I don't think my daughter's going to hell."
"Neither do I," Mr. Bennett chimed in. "To be quite frank, we're only here because my sister's husband is... uh... how should I put this?"
"An asshole?" Mayfly chimed in.
"Watch it, Ashleigh," Mrs. Bennett warned in a motherly fashion.
"A dirty redneck?"
"Works for me."
"I like her mom," Chaser said cheerily.
"So, my sister's husband insisted that she be sent here. He paid for it and everything. I'm just trying to keep the peace in my family."
"Her uncle really is an ass," Spot said quietly. "Mayfly and me were best friends in grammar school. I remember him. A complete redneck, racist, homophobe."
Medda nodded slowly.
"I think that I should have a private chat with the two of you. I don't think you quite understand the seriousness of your daughter's condition." Mr. and Mrs. Bennett exchanged a look and shrugged as Medda moved on to Speed's family. Speed was sitting a good foot and a half away from the very proper-looking woman to her left. The man on her right was staring out the window and whistling under his breath. "Mrs. Anders, do you accept your daughter's condition?" Speed's mom gasped.
"Absolutely not! How could anyone possibly tolerate this abnormality?"
Medda smiled like she'd just been declared ruler of the universe... which I'm sure would make her happy.
"I really hate this woman," Swifty muttered.
"Who, Medda or Speed's mom?"
"Both of them."
"They're probably going to be finished in a sec. We should get out of here before the Closet Case Club notices us," Spot said quietly, gesturing to Mush and David who were off playing football.
Without another word, we all trudged away from the window, secretly dreading the latter part of the day when we'd be trapped in there.
*~*~*
Many eventful things happened that day.
God, that sounds like the first sentence of some cheesy high school essay, doesn't it?
Anyway. Major things did happen that day, though. David and Mush never really made us do anything, and Medda was too busy with Family Therapy. So, everyone just sort of ended up goofing around all day. Colleen/Maureen had another schizo fit and smashed up most of the windows in the girls' dorm. Medda swears that this time she's sending her off to an asylum. Heels freaked out during her session and said some things to her mother that I'd rather not repeat. Spot and Ireland bonded further over a love for ballet.
And me?
I had a chat with Mayfly.
Yeah, yeah, don't look at me like that. You're giving me that, "why are you talking to the psycho" look. She's actually not a psycho.
I was kinda bored. It was right about when Dave, the random guy who lives in Q's basement, had decided to wander around and sniff the flowers, so it was somewhere in the middle of the third session. I noticed everyone's favorite non-violent nutcase (as opposed to Heels, who is a violent nutcase) sitting on a picnic bench outside. So, being the nice guy that I am, I decided to go talk to her.
"Hey!" She looked up at me. I was smiling happily, waiting for the slightly evil, semi-psychotic grin that I'd dubbed "the Mayfly grin." It never came.
"Hey," she said quietly. I raised an eyebrow.
"You okay?" She sighed.
"I hate watching Medda make my parents feel like shit. They don't care if I'm a lesbian. They really don't. As long as I'm safe and happy, they're happy."
"I didn't think parents like that existed any more."
"Mine are like that." She smiled sadly and looked at the ground where Delilah, her beloved clarinet, had been abandoned. "This is all my uncle's fault..." She turned to me suddenly. "Do me a favor and just keep talking. If I just keep talking, everything is gonna be okay."
I blinked.
"Erm... uh... you never did say how Bumlets got his nickname." Her entire expression changed. She immediately melted into the same, old diabolical Mayfly that I'd grown accustomed to.
"As you've probably noticed, Bumlets is a bit of a space case. Well, that first day, Spot was making fun of Skittery because he used to live in London. He said something about crumpets and scones. Well, Bumlets wasn't really listening, so he turned around and said, 'what about bumlets and bones?' It really wasn't that funny, but it was so incredibly random that we couldn't stop laughing." She grinned, and I couldn't help but grin back.
"So, what about your nickname?"
Her grin faded.
"Hoo, boy." She sighed. "I try not to let people see that I have a serious side, but I suppose you're gonna be one of the few to see it. Blink, do you know what a mayfly is?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"Can't say that I do."
"Of course you don't. No one does." She chuckled bitterly. "A mayfly is a bug. A very small bug. It only lives for twenty-four hours because it's born without a mouth. So, every last one of them starves to death." She hadn't been looking at me, but she turned to face me then. "Can you imagine living your entire life in twenty-four hours?" I shook my head slowly. "Neither can I. And that's my whole thing, you know? I wanna do one great thing before I die. I want to be remembered. And I feel so sorry for these little things, because there's no way in hell that anyone will remember them if they've only got twenty-four hours to make something of themselves. So, I took up the name Mayfly because... well, if I don't remember them, who will?" She gazed up at the noontime sun and smiled sadly as the light reflected off of her glasses. She looked quickly back at me. "Don't tell anyone that I have actual brain cells, okay? It's so much easier when people just think I'm a good-natured lunatic."
"Your secret's safe with me."
"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got world domination plans to work on." With a diabolical smile, she pulled a half-frozen eggroll out of the pocket of her skirt and chucked it at Chaser's head.
"MAYFLY, YOU DIRTY BITCH!"
I grinned and shook my head.
You know, everyone always told me that appearances can be deceiving, but I'd never believed it until that conversation.
"Session four is beginning!" I heard Ireland yell.
With a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I trudged towards the Training Building with the last four boys: Snitch, Skittery, Spot, and Race.
Oh, God, I was gonna die.
*~*~*
The five of us sat nervously in various chairs around the room.
"Hell, boys," Medda said cheerfully. "Your parents will be coming in one by one, so please introduce them." As if on cue, the door opened.
A man was standing in the doorway. His dark hair and hazel eyes were nearly identical to Snitch's, as did his rather large teeth. He locked eyes with Snitch, and they both gave each other twin smiles.
"Hi, Damien."
"Hey, Dad."
"Are you going to stand in the door all day, Ruben, or are you going to let us in?" Snitch's smile froze on his face. Mr. Baxter immediately stepped out of the doorway and bowed to a rather small woman with blue eyes and glasses.
"I apologize, Trisha," he spat.
"At least the property is nice," muttered the oddly familiar blond man behind the woman that I assumed was Snitch's mother. "Not as nice as my beach house in Cancun, but nice nonetheless." Snitch's smile was obviously forced now.
"Everyone, this is my dad, Ruben Baxter." Mr. Baxter smiled and waved at us all. "This is my mother, Trisha Benson, and my stepfather, Marcel Benson."
Marcel Benson... wasn't he on that cheesy soap opera, Affaires Risquées?
Oh. So that's why he looked so familiar.
"Lovely to meet you, Mr. Benson!" Medda gushed, grabbing his hand and shaking it vigorously. "I absolutely adore your work." Benson flashed her a cheesy smile and thanked her "modestly."
Yeah, right. I had a feeling that this guy didn't know the meaning of the word "modesty." Except maybe as a brand of cologne.
Snitch's father sat on one side of him, his mother and stepfather on the other. I don't know how Snitch was able to stand it; hell, I was about to snap from the tension, and I didn't even know these people.
"Paul Spencer Conlon, I sincerely hope you've made some progress!" a voice boomed.
"Oh, damn," Spot groaned. He winced in the general direction of the angry brunette standing in the doorway.
"Jesus Christ, Justine, leave the boy alone," another voice muttered. The woman walked in followed by another woman. This lady looked to be somewhere in her mid-sixties, but she was dressed like a twenty-year old. I could already tell that I was gonna like her.
Spot didn't even try to smile at his mother, but he practically tackled the woman that I assumed was his grandmother.
"I missed you, Tanya." I raised an eyebrow. He called his grandmother "Tanya?"
"Missed you, too, kid. Now make with the introducing." Spot pointed quickly at his mother. "My mom, Justine Conlon. And this," he said, gesturing proudly to the older woman, "is my grandmother. Tanya Mitchell. I command you to love her." Tanya grinned and ruffled her grandson's hair.
"Are we late?" a quiet voice asked. My jaw practically dropped at the sight of the woman who'd walked nervously into the room. I may be gay, but I know enough to know that that woman was absolutely gorgeous. Wavy blond hair, bright green eyes... she was beautiful. Skittery smiled and got to his feet.
"No, Mom, it's okay."
Did he say MOM?! This lady was his MOTHER?!
"I had to bring Nick and Alex; I hope you don't mind." She gestured behind her where a boy and a girl, both with orange-red hair, were staring longingly at Skittery. Without a word, they both raced forward and gave Skittery a massive hug. Skitts looked up and smiled.
"Everybody, this is my mom, Abigail Sloane. This is my little brother and sister, Nicholas and Alexandra, usually shortened to Nick and Alex." Nick grinned at everyone, and Alex and Skittery's mother gave identical tiny smiles.
"Isaac."
At the sound of my name, my blood froze.
I leaped to my feet and stood straight like the good, little, neo-Nazi that my father had trained me as.
"Hello, Father."
"Yo, Blink!" My jaw dropped as Izzy and Iris appeared behind my father, grinning and waving.
"What are you guys doing here?"
"Mom wouldn't come," Iris said, sighing in an exaggerated way. "So, she sent us instead." She suddenly noticed Skittery and waggled her eyebrows. "Hey there, cutie. ... oh, damn, you're gay, aren't you?"
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"No problem." I grinned.
"Guys, this is my father, Hernan Cliffton. And these are my twin sisters, Isabel and Iris." Medda beamed and clapped her hands together.
"Great! Now that everyone's here, we can begin."
I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Racetrack, who was sitting in the corner by himself. I opened my mouth to say something, but he caught my eye and shook his head quickly.
So, I just sat back and prepared for the ride of my life.
*~*~*
Our session was probably the longest one.
Let me rephrase that. It was the longest one.
How could it not be?
We had Snitch's mom screeching at his dad the whole time while his dad shot dirty looks at Mr. Uber-Special TV Star. Spot's mom spent most of the session glaring at her son and, in turn, being glared at by Tanya (yes, even I called her Tanya; we all called her Tanya; how could you not?). My father acted like I wasn't even there while Izzy and Iris commented, rather loudly, on how cute Spot and Skittery were. The only people who acted normally were Skittery's mom and siblings.
And Race. But, then again, his family wasn't there to cause any trouble.
"Miss Sloane, how could you not find your son's behavior disgusting? I simply can't comprehend that." Medda leaned forward and stared sternly at Skittery's mother, who sighed.
"Honestly, I don't think that there's anything wrong with homosexuality, personally. It's just that... well, my brother was gay, and I saw the torture that people put him through. I don't want Jared to have to go through that." Medda frowned for a few seconds before a tiny smirk appeared on her face.
"Miss Sloane, what is your occupation?" Skittery's mother blinked in surprise.
"I beg your pardon?"
"What is your occupation? What do you do for a living?"
"I... I hardly find that necessary to-"
"It's a simply question, Miss Sloane. Answer it." She bit her lip and sighed before looking up and whispering something. "I'm sorry?"
"I'm a prostitute."
My jaw dropped.
Well. That would explain why Skittery didn't look anything like his brother and sister.
Skittery sort of stared at the ground. It looked like he was too ashamed to look anyone in the eye.
"Skitts," I heard Snitch whisper quietly.
Medda glanced around the room with a triumphant smirk.
"Jared, that is most definitely your root. You have no respect for your mother, so you have no respect for any women! Now, I-"
"That's not true!" Skittery snarled. He got to his feet and shoved his finger directly in Medda's face. "Look, we're not the richest family in the world, okay? And my mom does what she has to do to help her kids survive. I can't count the number of times that she's gone without dinner to buy a doll for Alex or a pair of shoes for Nick or some stupid thing that I wanted and didn't really need! And fuck you, because you don't even know her! So don't sit here and tell me that I don't respect my mother, because that's total bullshit! I have all the respect in the world for her!"
Everyone stared, dumbstruck. That's all we really could do. I mean, Skittery had never done anything like this the whole time we'd been here. He'd always been so calm. But now... well, he looked like he was about to snap Medda's head off.
"Watch what you say, Jared," our oh-so-wonderful instructor said coolly. "That temper of yours is going to get you into a lot of trouble some day." She shot Skittery and icy glare before beaming brightly at everyone. "Moving right along! Mr. Cliffton, how do you feel about your son?" My father sat up straight and smoothed down his mustache, like he always did when he thought he was about to say something important and/or intimidating.
"I think it's a load of crap. And it's a weakness, in my eyes. How does he ever expect to get a decent job? Doctors and lawyers aren't faggots."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop fifty degrees as everyone stared icily at my father. Spot looked like he was about ready to rip my dad's head off, and I heard a faint "that fucker" from outside where the rest of my friends were undoubtedly watching (it sounded an awful lot like Q).
But Race took it the worst.
He jumped straight to his feet, stalked over to my dad, and shoved his finger in his face, a la Skittery. And my father is not used to being defied. He didn't know how to take it, so he just sat there and gaped.
"That was a shitty thing to say," Race snarled. "This is your son, you stupid fucker. It shouldn't matter to you if he's gay or straight or asexual or whatever. Ever heard of 'unconditional love?' You should thank your lucky stars that whatever god you believe in let you have a guy this great as a son. You got me?" He looked up sharply and glared at the rest of the parents. "And that goes for all of you." After a moment of complete silence, Race stormed out of the building, muttering angrily in Italian the whole way.
After a few seconds, I swallowed my pride, scrambled to my feet, and went after him.
*~*~*
He was gone.
Not physically. Physically, we were both sitting on the grassy hill near the outskirts of the TD property. Physically, he was smoking a cigarette and looking generally pissed off while I was twiddling my thumbs nervously since we'd been sitting there for about ten minutes and he hadn't said a word to me.
He was gone mentally. The Race that wasn't an asshole. The Race that had been slowly but surely becoming my friend over the past week or so. The old Racetrack that had always hated me was back in place. And that annoyed me.
I finally decided to say something.
"I can't believe they haven't sent someone to get us."
"They don't give a shit about us," he replied flatly. I sighed and stared upwards at the sun that was just beginning to set. Okay, if idle chatter wasn't going to work on him, I'd try humor.
"You know that song Medda made me write a little while back?"
"Yeah."
"I did it as a cheer." Race slowly turned his head and stared at me, his eyebrow raised.
"A cheer?" I grinned.
"Yeah!"
"... why?"
"My girlfriend was a cheerleader." I frowned. "Well, soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, I guess." Racetrack rolled his eyes and smirked. "It was so incredibly stupid. How did it go? Uh... 'two, four, six, eight, God is good-'"
"'God is straight?'" he suggested. I grinned again.
"Something like that." We sat in comfortable silence and stared at the empty road.
"Your dad's a dick."
"I noticed. Where were your parents?" Race stopped in mid-yawn. He looked at me for a few seconds before sighing and snuffing out his cigarette.
"My dad used to have a toy factory. A big-ass one. We were filthy, stinkin' rich, and I loved it. Then, he disappeared. Don't know where he is, don't know if he's even alive. My mom remarried this Jesus freak, Ernest. He kept trying to turn me Catholic, which I'm definitely not. One day, he snapped. Stabbed my mom about six times. She's dead, and he's in jail." He smiled bitterly at the shock on my face. "To make a long story short, I live in a sort of a halfway house. They weren't pleased when they caught me fucking one of the other guys, so they sent me here.."
"Race... I'm sorry."
"Why? It ain't your fault."
"I know. But it's the obligatory thing to say at times like this."
Another silence. This time, it was more awkward.
"Were you in love with him?" Racetrack glanced sharply at me.
"Who?"
"They guy that they caught you with." He stared at the ground for a second, his face blank. Then, he gave me a sad kind of smile.
"Does it matter?" He got to his feet, but there was no way I was letting him go after a cryptic answer like that.
I went to grab his arm and caught his hand instead.
And we just looked at each other. Just looked. Kinda like that look he'd given me when I told him that I wasn't good at reading people. Anything that I could have said would have caught in my throat, so I just didn't say anything. But, my God, I wanted to. I don't know what I wanted to say, but I wanted to say something, anything.
This only lasted a split-second. Then, the look disappeared from Race's eyes.
"Careful," he whispered. "I can report you for that." He turned and started walking back towards the boys' dorm, his fingers slipping slowly from my hand.
Was it then? Yeah, it was.
It was then that I discovered that I'd fallen hard for one, Dean "Racetrack" Higgins.
End Chapter Four
I. Love. This. Fic. I NEVER get chapters out this fast. And, yes, this is fast for me. I'm no Dakota Jones; I can't write faboo chapters uber-fast like that. ^_^ I feel bad for making Mush such a moron; I'm sorry if I offended any Mush fangirls. Or fanboys. *stares pointedly at Twitch* So, yesh. This thing is already seventeen pages. WHY ARE MY FICS SO LONG?! Ah, well. One to the shout-outs!
Shot Hunter: WHEEEE! TIAEAIS! I heart it. A lot. *beams* College will be fun, I think. Not exactly sure where I wanna go, though. Maybe Fordham, maybe Washington and Lee, maybe Tisch, maybe the College of Santa Fe... and, no, not just for the Newsies factor. ^^ Or, I may stay in-state and go to Tulane, but I'd rather not do that. Or maybe I will. They have a good theater program there. *shrug* Okay, enough college babble. Tankies for the review!
Tabloid: *reluctantly returns PianoMan!Snoddy* I can borrow him for ATCF, though, right? *begs* *raises an eyebrow* Sita-Pita? *blinks* That's a new one. Anyway. Glad you like, dearie. *flying tackle glomps* And buena suerte on... well, "Buena Suerte!"
kellyanne: YAY! *feels special* But, yesh, Natasha Lyone has no facial expressions. At all. And her "kill the Rangers!" line in the very beginning could NOT have been any cheesier. But maybe it was supposed to be that way... I LOVE GOTH!ITEY! He's so much fun to write! WHEE! So, yesh, glad you liked it! *beams* And thanks for reviewing!
Gothic Author: Isn't he fun? *grins and dances* But there's a reason behind Race's asshole-y-ness! *beams* And he stops later on. *grins* Does this answer your question? *giggles* Yes, and SexyRake!Mush makes me smile as well. *grins and huggles* Syankuu for the loverly review!
H.W.O: *pokes* You must write that original fic. Now. Or I will be sad. *cries* Ahem. Anyway. *glomps* Did I send you the rules to Mafia already? I forget. ^_^;;; So. I LURVE YOU! *glomps again* Tankies, tankies for reviewing-ness and whatnot!
Ireland: *beams* Half of the guys would date you if they were straight! Tee-hee! Hmmm... I dunno! He might have a wittle, bitty cwush! (Race: SHUT UP! *runs*) Heheheheh... I checked out your LH, but I've never joined one before, so I dunno if I'd be any fun... ^_^;;; But, tanytway, I heart you, and thanks for the luuuuurvely review!
Colleen: WHEEE! *huggles* Wow, I feel kinda bad about making fun of the guy now... ah, well, we can just make fun of Liz... though I feel bad about that, too. But, woo! I heart you. A lot. And I heart you even more for reviewing. ("It's still the beeeeeeeest-whoa-whoa-whoa!" "... what the HELL was that?!")
Seraph: YAY! I'm glad you liked it! *grins* And thanks for reviewing!
studentnumber25601: BLINK OBSESSERS OF THE WORLD, UNITE! *high fives* He's my favorite, too! (Blink: .... *cries*) Hmm... Blink/Race... *whistles innocently* Maaaaaybe... EEP! I'm muy feliz that you enjoy it, especially since I adore your writing. *feels vewy, vewy, special* So, yesh. Thank you SO much for the lurvely review! ^_^
Cerridwen: People tend to like SexyRake!Mush. Maybe I should auction him off... (Davey: MINE! *snatches SexyRake!Mush and runs off*) ... or not. Ahem. Anyway! Uber-happy that you liked it! And tankies for reviewing!
Pyromaniacal Llama (Flare): EEP! I'm sorry! I used to say "confuzzled" all the time... *cries* BUT YES! TELL THE DICTIONARY PEOPLE! BWAHAHAHA! Ahem. I learned how to play Mafia from Tabloid. That was fun. *beams and dances* It's kinda confoozing (woo!), but it's fun. Race is an ass... for a reason. *evil grin* WHEE! Gracias for the reviiiiiiew!
Raven: WHEE! CHOCOLATE-COVERED BLINK! *glomps Ravy* I luffle yoooooou! Syankuu for the review, darlin'!
Artemis-chan: I heart you, too! WHEE! I'd just read MegaTokyo before I wrote that, so I HAD to fit L33T in there somewhere. ^^ Anyway! FOOTBALL! *shudders* FOOTBALL IS THE DEVIL! Ahem. But tankies for the review!
Stage: Yesh. Very sick. And Sinead, one of the girls in the movie? She has a pain fetish, and she has a crush on Grahm (Race). So, at night, she takes her taser and one of Grahm's socks and.... ahem. Yeah. *tackles back* I LUFFLE YOU MORE!
Glimmer Conlon O'Leary: *beams brightly* *sends many thanks* *dances* *does a backflip* *falls flat on her face* *cries* *sends more thanks* *sends even MORE thanks* *agrees that it is indeed fun to type completely in actions* *runs off, humming the "Batman" theme song*
Lute-face: MY LOVE! *glomps* Wait, you like Snitch/Skitts? Wow! You learn something new every day! ^_^ Kidding, dearie. Ahem. Anyway. I can see Mush/Blink, and it's fun to write them every now and then, but I like Blink and Race more. They're more... I dunno. They seem more real. The majority of Blink/Mush fics are all chocolate-covered and filled with sunshine and happy bunnies. Or something. *shrugs* And would you believe me if I told you that I completely didn't do the Spot thing on purpose? I actually wanted to use either Dutchy or Mush, until I realized that Mush fit better as Mary's (Medda's) little in-denial protege. And then I got a better idea for Dutchy (he's coming in later). So, I picked a name and got Spot. *beams* But, yes, I've noticed that, too. Flamer!Spot is SO fun to write! We should just re-name him Outkasts!Spot. *nods* Sort of like how I'm thinking of renaming UberGoth!Itey BIAP!Itey. *beams* *huggles Itey* Anyway. I luffle you, my dear. *flying tackle glomps* Much love for the Lutells. Yesh, THE Lutells. Is there any other? *grins*
Twitch: *points* Your FACE is Mafia! Anyway. I've been meaning to ask you this. When the HELL did you see the movie? But, yesh, they need to make out more. A lot. *nods* "ExCUSE me? The LAST thing I need is some FRUIT who just proved he's straight telling MY ass how sexy I am!" Must keep that line... *grins* I heart you, sweetling. *huggles*
Mush's Skittles: *feels uber-special* Being crazy is good though! WHEEEE! *cackles and runs in a circle, screaming about communist alpacas* See? I just need to let it out every now and then. *twitches* "Fantasmagorical?" WOOOOO! I LUFFLE THAT WORD NOW! *dances* Anyway. Syankuu for the loverly, loverly review-ness!
hilaRyB: ..... wow. I haven't had a review that fun since the anime section. *beams and huggles* I love your musies. Especially SweetGoth!Dutchy. I may steal him... *shifty eyes* And BrooklynIsQueeah!Spot is right: all girls are psycho. I mean, look at all of us. Not that being psycho is a bad thing... *cackles* Well, many tankies for reviewing! And your husband would like a ring made completely out of earthworms and Hershey's dark chocolate.
Quimby: Did I send you the rules to Mafia? I keep forgetting who I've sent them to and who I haven't. *frowns* SQUIRRELS! WOO! And hooray for getting groped by lesbians! WOOHOO! *dances* THE LOST BOYS! I LOVE THAT MOVIE! Life doesn't get much better than sitting in your bed at three in the morning with a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and watching a movie about vampires with mullets. *beams* Tankies for the luuuurvely review!
The Jack Loving Misfit: Oh, yay-ness! Uber-glad that you like it! *beams cheerily* I know how you feel... especially when you get UNGODLY addicted to a story, and it ENDS... *glares in Lute's general direction* *beams* So, whee! Hooray-ness! And muchas gracias for reviewing!
Liams Kitten: *gasp* YOU MUST SEE THE MOVIE! Soooo funny... it's worth it just to see RuPaul dressed like a man. *beams brightly* This fic has NOTHING on the actual movie. The girl who plays Megan (Blink) kinda sucks, but everyone else is incredible. *giggles and dances* Thanks for the review-y-ness!
Aura: David/Mush is quite fun, isn't it? And Prancing!Spot is a fun, fun boy. YAY, BUT I'M A CHEERLEADER! *high fives* Thank you soooooo much for reviewing! ^_^
Okay, that's all from me today. But the good stuff starts happening in the next chapter. *grins* And two people leave True Directions! *gasp* WHO COULD IT BE?! You'll just have to wait to find out. *grins* Though, if you review, the chapter might come faster... *whistles innocently and points to the "Submit Review" button*