Okay. *clears throat*
I. Am. So. Sorry.
*Nods* Right. Anyway, I'm really sorry for not updating in... well, many moons. Problem is, I've been the victim of (A) severe writer's block, (B) college applications, and (C) general boredom with this story. But hey! You guys keep reviewin' it, telling me how much you love it, so I must be doing SOMETHING right!
Also, a few of you (meaning my CC goils) are making the scene in this chappie, so keep your eyes peeled for that!
So anyhow, now that I have found my muse (who is currently typing her toga off), I bring to you the third installment of "Fast Times At Duane Street High." Enjoy, children!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~FAST TIMES AT DUANE STREET HIGH~
Chapter THREE: Home Game
For some high schools, football goes unnoticed-- a meaningless ritual of guys in helmets trying to smother one another over an odd-shaped ball. But for Duane Street High, football was practically the Sabbath. The varsity team were viewed like gods-- having been undefeated for the eighth year in a row-- and acted as such.
"Let's kick some ass!" was the battle cry for the Duane Street Devils as they strutted proudly onto the field that night, much like a parade of peacocks that flaunted their jerseys like plumage.
Oscar Delancey, however, stayed behind momentarily to go to the sidelines, where Sarah was leaning against the fence. A sly smirk crossed his face.
"Ain't you gonna wish me luck?" he demanded with a grin.
She smiled. "Shut up, Oscar!" she said in a hiss. "He's supposed to be here any second!"
"So?" He shrugged with typical indifference. "Let that little wuss of a boyfriend come here and see you." He seized her around the waist teasingly, pressing his lips against hers.
Sarah's face broke out into a satisfied grin. "Go get 'em, Oscar." As they pulled apart, she checked over her shoulder, searching for Jack, as if nothing happened at all.
***************
Stagey dodged in and out of the insane crowds of people, on her way to finding a seat in the bleachers. Why did she even bother to come tonight? It wasn't like she really knew anyone there. Then again, Jack DID ask if she was going to be there... But why would Jack's opinion matter to her? It shouldn't have. But it did.
In the crowds, Stagey was bombarded by two eager girls with sparkling eyes. They both had arms loaded with one of everything from the concession stand. In the collision, a few nachos spilled onto the sidewalk.
"Oh, sorry!" the shorter of the two exclaimed. She tucked a strand of her short brown hair behind her ear nervously. "Didn't see you there."
Stagey shrugged. "Um, it's all right... Sorry about your nachos."
The other girl laughed, sapphire-blue eyes twinkling. "It's all good! We were just on our way to deliver this..." She indicated the array of snacks.
When Stagey was about to ask who was receiving all of these saturated fats, she saw Racetrack peer over the edge of the bleachers. He waved to Stagey, then turned to the other girls.
"Mayo! Sapphy! You think you're takin' long enough?" he barked in mock exasperation. "My stomach's been growlin' for fifteen minutes already!"
Much to Stagey's amusement, the two girls battled their way to Race, trying to be the one to get there first. She couldn't help but snort out a laugh. "Okay if I sit here?" she asked.
"Only if you got some food for me," Race demanded. As Stagey reached into her purse to find something, he laughed, adding, "I'm jus' kiddin'! Don't worry about it! I got my goils to do that kinda stuff for me." He indicated the two eager girls on either side of him. "This is Mayo an' that's Sapphy. Goils, this here is Stagey, fresh outta D.C."
"Heya!" Mayo greeted excitedly. "Uh, welcome to Duane Street!" She edged closer to Race.
Sapphy snorted out a laugh. "Here; you can sit on this side," she offered, moving a jacket out of the way.
"Thanks." Stagey grinned appreciatively, sliding in. She silently observed Mayo and Sapphy with amusement as they took turns flirting with Race: getting him some more nachos, laughing melodiosly at his jokes, and finding a motive to physically contact him in one way or another. It wasn't stupid, really; it was actually pretty interesting.
Stagey elbowed Sapphy in the ribs a few minutes later. "Race sure has the two of you wrapped around his finger," she whispered with a grin.
"Aw, it's okay," Sapphy insisted, grinning. "It's just fun to flirt, that's all! Besides, Mayo's pretty much my best friend. We don't REALLY fight over Race. Right, Mayo?"
Mayo sat back down, passing out sodas for everyone. "Oh, sure!" she chirped in reply. "Who wouldn't want a piece of this scrappy li'l Italian?" She pinched Race on the cheek affectionately.
Race turned beet red. It was clear he was enjoying all this attention. "Damn right!"
***************
Behind the bleachers, Spot Conlon reigned surpreme, presiding over the rebels of Duane Street... or at least any of them that had even the shred of school spirit to show up. He consistently wore his "screw authority and anyone else that disagrees with me" smirk.
"So remind me why we're here again?" Michelle Beaufont, known as Raven to everyone else, leaned against a wall and lit up a cigarette evasively. She checked over her shoulder, making sure a cop wasn't patroling nearby.
Spot fixed his intense, often scary gaze on Raven. "Why not? Ain't you havin' a good time?" He motioned to the game on the field. "Bunch of steroid boys scrambling around, makin' idiots out of themselves." He took a drag from his own cigarette. "Sounds like a good time to me." He paused. "So where the hell are all your drama freaks?"
"We're not any more freakish than you are, Conlon!" Raven snapped back good-naturedly, exhaling a puff of smoke. "Ah, they're probably around somewhere..." She scanned under the bleachers, seeing a familiar face. "Jack!"
Jack walked briskly to Raven and Spot's hangout. He was different enough to be accepted there, but he was too much of a follower to be welcome for very long.
He smiled briefly upon seeing Raven. "What's goin' on, Rave?" He immediately looked around him, in search of someone. "You seen Sarah anywhere? She left her ring in my car this afternoon."
Jack displayed the ring: a white gold band dazzled by a few tiny diamonds. "It's crazy... She never took it off since I gave it to her for Christmas!" He dismissed his insecurities with a shrug. "Maybe she just forgot it."
"Maybe," Raven offered, shrugging as well. "Hey, I think she's over by the sidelines. You could check there."
"Thanks," he said quickly, immediately heading toward the field's sidelines.
***************
In the twilight, Jack saw Sarah several yards away, leaning against a fence. He paused for a second, twirling the ring between his thumb and forefinger fondly. Sarah Jacobs was about the best thing that happened to him. Everything about her-- her smile, her touch, the way her hair fell in her face when she was studying-- was so special in his eyes.
His meditations were interrupted as an unwelcome face entered the seemingly perfect picture: Oscar Delancey. Jack grumbled some curses under his breath. Ever since elementary school, Oscar had always been one-up on everything. He defeated Jack in fourth grade for class president, creamed him in junior high wrestling, and got a scholarship to NYU-- Jack's dream school.
Jack heaved a somewhat satisfied sigh, though. At least Oscar couldn't have dominion over the one person Jack truly cared about. Besides, Sarah would never go for Oscar. Not in a million years.
Jack's face clouded over with worry, however, when he watched Oscar talk with Sarah from his perch on the bench. Sarah never gave Oscar the time of day before. What was going on?
He remained in the distance, no more noticeable than a fly on the wall, watching the scene play out. Jack's hands crunched up into fists with anxiety with every teasing smile and hair flip that Sarah gave Oscar. He wasn't a control freak with any of his girlfriends, but this situation scared him.
Oscar leaned over, whispering indistinct words in Sarah's ear. She giggled melodiously. Then, to Jack's horror and torture, Oscar leaned further into Sarah, smashing his lips against hers. He SMASHED them against hers. It wasn't a kiss. Kisses were supposed to be tender, loving, gentle-- at least that was how Jack always kissed her.
He couldn't take it anymore. With the two of them still in a liplock, Jack strode over to them boldly, still hidden in the darkness behind them.
Sarah laughed loudly, pulling away. "Not so crazy, Oscar!" she hissed with a broad smile. "Jack's gonna see us!"
Jack just stood there, tears creeping into his eyes. "Too late."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
...Perhaps I should have changed the title of this chapter to "Sarah's A Cheating Whore"? Hmm.
Anyhow! PLEASE send me some reviews! I greatly appreciate it, guys!
SOON TO COME: CHAPTER FOUR!!
(And I swear on all things "Newsies" that the next chapter won't take HALF as long to put out as THIS one!)
I. Am. So. Sorry.
*Nods* Right. Anyway, I'm really sorry for not updating in... well, many moons. Problem is, I've been the victim of (A) severe writer's block, (B) college applications, and (C) general boredom with this story. But hey! You guys keep reviewin' it, telling me how much you love it, so I must be doing SOMETHING right!
Also, a few of you (meaning my CC goils) are making the scene in this chappie, so keep your eyes peeled for that!
So anyhow, now that I have found my muse (who is currently typing her toga off), I bring to you the third installment of "Fast Times At Duane Street High." Enjoy, children!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~FAST TIMES AT DUANE STREET HIGH~
Chapter THREE: Home Game
For some high schools, football goes unnoticed-- a meaningless ritual of guys in helmets trying to smother one another over an odd-shaped ball. But for Duane Street High, football was practically the Sabbath. The varsity team were viewed like gods-- having been undefeated for the eighth year in a row-- and acted as such.
"Let's kick some ass!" was the battle cry for the Duane Street Devils as they strutted proudly onto the field that night, much like a parade of peacocks that flaunted their jerseys like plumage.
Oscar Delancey, however, stayed behind momentarily to go to the sidelines, where Sarah was leaning against the fence. A sly smirk crossed his face.
"Ain't you gonna wish me luck?" he demanded with a grin.
She smiled. "Shut up, Oscar!" she said in a hiss. "He's supposed to be here any second!"
"So?" He shrugged with typical indifference. "Let that little wuss of a boyfriend come here and see you." He seized her around the waist teasingly, pressing his lips against hers.
Sarah's face broke out into a satisfied grin. "Go get 'em, Oscar." As they pulled apart, she checked over her shoulder, searching for Jack, as if nothing happened at all.
***************
Stagey dodged in and out of the insane crowds of people, on her way to finding a seat in the bleachers. Why did she even bother to come tonight? It wasn't like she really knew anyone there. Then again, Jack DID ask if she was going to be there... But why would Jack's opinion matter to her? It shouldn't have. But it did.
In the crowds, Stagey was bombarded by two eager girls with sparkling eyes. They both had arms loaded with one of everything from the concession stand. In the collision, a few nachos spilled onto the sidewalk.
"Oh, sorry!" the shorter of the two exclaimed. She tucked a strand of her short brown hair behind her ear nervously. "Didn't see you there."
Stagey shrugged. "Um, it's all right... Sorry about your nachos."
The other girl laughed, sapphire-blue eyes twinkling. "It's all good! We were just on our way to deliver this..." She indicated the array of snacks.
When Stagey was about to ask who was receiving all of these saturated fats, she saw Racetrack peer over the edge of the bleachers. He waved to Stagey, then turned to the other girls.
"Mayo! Sapphy! You think you're takin' long enough?" he barked in mock exasperation. "My stomach's been growlin' for fifteen minutes already!"
Much to Stagey's amusement, the two girls battled their way to Race, trying to be the one to get there first. She couldn't help but snort out a laugh. "Okay if I sit here?" she asked.
"Only if you got some food for me," Race demanded. As Stagey reached into her purse to find something, he laughed, adding, "I'm jus' kiddin'! Don't worry about it! I got my goils to do that kinda stuff for me." He indicated the two eager girls on either side of him. "This is Mayo an' that's Sapphy. Goils, this here is Stagey, fresh outta D.C."
"Heya!" Mayo greeted excitedly. "Uh, welcome to Duane Street!" She edged closer to Race.
Sapphy snorted out a laugh. "Here; you can sit on this side," she offered, moving a jacket out of the way.
"Thanks." Stagey grinned appreciatively, sliding in. She silently observed Mayo and Sapphy with amusement as they took turns flirting with Race: getting him some more nachos, laughing melodiosly at his jokes, and finding a motive to physically contact him in one way or another. It wasn't stupid, really; it was actually pretty interesting.
Stagey elbowed Sapphy in the ribs a few minutes later. "Race sure has the two of you wrapped around his finger," she whispered with a grin.
"Aw, it's okay," Sapphy insisted, grinning. "It's just fun to flirt, that's all! Besides, Mayo's pretty much my best friend. We don't REALLY fight over Race. Right, Mayo?"
Mayo sat back down, passing out sodas for everyone. "Oh, sure!" she chirped in reply. "Who wouldn't want a piece of this scrappy li'l Italian?" She pinched Race on the cheek affectionately.
Race turned beet red. It was clear he was enjoying all this attention. "Damn right!"
***************
Behind the bleachers, Spot Conlon reigned surpreme, presiding over the rebels of Duane Street... or at least any of them that had even the shred of school spirit to show up. He consistently wore his "screw authority and anyone else that disagrees with me" smirk.
"So remind me why we're here again?" Michelle Beaufont, known as Raven to everyone else, leaned against a wall and lit up a cigarette evasively. She checked over her shoulder, making sure a cop wasn't patroling nearby.
Spot fixed his intense, often scary gaze on Raven. "Why not? Ain't you havin' a good time?" He motioned to the game on the field. "Bunch of steroid boys scrambling around, makin' idiots out of themselves." He took a drag from his own cigarette. "Sounds like a good time to me." He paused. "So where the hell are all your drama freaks?"
"We're not any more freakish than you are, Conlon!" Raven snapped back good-naturedly, exhaling a puff of smoke. "Ah, they're probably around somewhere..." She scanned under the bleachers, seeing a familiar face. "Jack!"
Jack walked briskly to Raven and Spot's hangout. He was different enough to be accepted there, but he was too much of a follower to be welcome for very long.
He smiled briefly upon seeing Raven. "What's goin' on, Rave?" He immediately looked around him, in search of someone. "You seen Sarah anywhere? She left her ring in my car this afternoon."
Jack displayed the ring: a white gold band dazzled by a few tiny diamonds. "It's crazy... She never took it off since I gave it to her for Christmas!" He dismissed his insecurities with a shrug. "Maybe she just forgot it."
"Maybe," Raven offered, shrugging as well. "Hey, I think she's over by the sidelines. You could check there."
"Thanks," he said quickly, immediately heading toward the field's sidelines.
***************
In the twilight, Jack saw Sarah several yards away, leaning against a fence. He paused for a second, twirling the ring between his thumb and forefinger fondly. Sarah Jacobs was about the best thing that happened to him. Everything about her-- her smile, her touch, the way her hair fell in her face when she was studying-- was so special in his eyes.
His meditations were interrupted as an unwelcome face entered the seemingly perfect picture: Oscar Delancey. Jack grumbled some curses under his breath. Ever since elementary school, Oscar had always been one-up on everything. He defeated Jack in fourth grade for class president, creamed him in junior high wrestling, and got a scholarship to NYU-- Jack's dream school.
Jack heaved a somewhat satisfied sigh, though. At least Oscar couldn't have dominion over the one person Jack truly cared about. Besides, Sarah would never go for Oscar. Not in a million years.
Jack's face clouded over with worry, however, when he watched Oscar talk with Sarah from his perch on the bench. Sarah never gave Oscar the time of day before. What was going on?
He remained in the distance, no more noticeable than a fly on the wall, watching the scene play out. Jack's hands crunched up into fists with anxiety with every teasing smile and hair flip that Sarah gave Oscar. He wasn't a control freak with any of his girlfriends, but this situation scared him.
Oscar leaned over, whispering indistinct words in Sarah's ear. She giggled melodiously. Then, to Jack's horror and torture, Oscar leaned further into Sarah, smashing his lips against hers. He SMASHED them against hers. It wasn't a kiss. Kisses were supposed to be tender, loving, gentle-- at least that was how Jack always kissed her.
He couldn't take it anymore. With the two of them still in a liplock, Jack strode over to them boldly, still hidden in the darkness behind them.
Sarah laughed loudly, pulling away. "Not so crazy, Oscar!" she hissed with a broad smile. "Jack's gonna see us!"
Jack just stood there, tears creeping into his eyes. "Too late."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
...Perhaps I should have changed the title of this chapter to "Sarah's A Cheating Whore"? Hmm.
Anyhow! PLEASE send me some reviews! I greatly appreciate it, guys!
SOON TO COME: CHAPTER FOUR!!
(And I swear on all things "Newsies" that the next chapter won't take HALF as long to put out as THIS one!)